Mauthausen

'Never forget.' These two words reverberate through the spaces of Mauthausen. 'Never forget,' cry the granite walls, built by the hands of prisoners who hewed the stone and carried 50 kilos of granite on their backs, emaciated, weakened by illness and cruel treatment. 'Never forget,' screams the grey roster place where thousands of prisoners stood in the searing heat in summer, biting cold in winter, waiting for the pistol shot which would answer the slightest infraction of the rules, the missing cap, the sick and 'useless' appearance at roll call. 'Never forget,' say the memorials from groups and countries all over the world who call on our collective memory to honour those persecuted and killed by National Socialism and to prevent it ever happening again. 'Never forget,' says the museum where we learn stories of individuals in Mauthausen and of the rise of Hitler and his Nazi policies, National Socialism. 'Never forget,' moan the thin wooden walls of the barracks, each built for 300 people, but where up to 2000 people in each building struggled to find sleep, a meagre respite from the day's tortuous work.

'We will not forget,' whisper the visitors, who, like us, walk through the spaces of Mauthausen in the glowing 41° heat of midday in near silent witness to the horrors of this concentration camp above the Danube and pay humble homage to the victims. 'We won't forget.'