A Poignant Day of Reflection Deep in Bavaria

Melissa and I went to a funeral today; our first together and so too our first here in Germany. More specifically, the funeral was deep in the heart of Bavaria in a small town about 30 minutes south of Munich (where they're all small). A father of a friend of ours died. I knew nothing about the man before and learned by attending his funeral that in 1958 he helped to found the Bavarian Red Cross (Bayerische Roten Kreuz). We didn't know how old he was when he died, but speculated that he must have been at least 30 in 1958. This would mean that he likely saw a few interesting things in deep Bavaria during the 1940's and perhaps even the 1930's or 1920's, depending on how old he was; he and also some of the attendees at his farewell, who were contemporaries.

The funeral was much like any other; as we walked into the cemetery chapel a priest was addressing the attendees. I understand not a lot of German, but enough to snatch the gist of addresses like these and it seemed to be a litany of the man's life. Standing off to the right was an honor guard holding two or three flag standards of the local Red Cross. Later when we filed outside to the graveside, the honor guard stepped forward one by one and dipped the flag down toward the urn containing the man's ashes that had just been lowered into the ground and covered with a few spadefuls of Erde (earth) by his son and daughter in law.

It was a beautiful warm day deep in the heart of Bavaria and the Alps were shining as we approached the small town where the cemetery was located. We had passed a small monument on the left side of the road, barely noticeable. The monument in greening copper looked to have been over 50 years old, set possibly about the time that the man we were on our way to honor was founding the Bavarian Red Cross. The monument was a sculpture of a group of sad and tired looking emaciated men, maybe tied together, shuffling along single file.

I knew what it commemorated before we stopped after the funeral to read the inscription. At the end of World War II two division of the U.S. Seventh Army were advancing through southern Germany. At the Dachau Concentration camp the Commandant ordered the camp evacuated and those prisoners that could walk were to be marched south, toward the Alps with no specific location in mind other than to keep ahead of the Americans. The camp inmates were marched along a canal that still runs through the camp until they reached the Wurm River, followed the Wurm down to Lake Starnberg and on toward the Alps, passing through the location of the monument that now commemorated this one of dozens of death marches that took place around Europe at that time.

Knowing all of this, the omission on the commemoration of any mention of Jews was notable. Notable, but not surprising for the time. It took 20-30 years for Germany and the rest of Europe, and the world for that matter to recognize and address the magnitude of the war crimes and human brutality we know as The Holocaust. People of my generation have grown up in the era of expiation and it is surprising, I think to us, that the Shoah was not a part of common knowledge of the war throughout the 50's and 60's. Many concentration camp survivors themselves did not want to talk about it, wanted to forget it and melt back into their new societies. So it was not surprising that this commemorative monument of at least 50 years ago did not mention Jews specifically. That consideration of the monument now included Jews specifically was clear from the several smooth clean stones that sat on the top.

Bavaria was Catholic and Conservative and remains so today. The Bavarian countryside in particular was very pro Hitler, pro Nazi and supplied much of the political base that allowed him to gain power in Munich before ascending to the presidency of Germany in 1933. As a preface to the final section of this post, I must say that of all the countries of Europe, Germany has done the most to come to terms with the behavior of its society and citizens during the War and to atone. It's taken many years and it's ongoing, but it's real and Germany is of course a completely different society today (Austria, on the other hand, has done the least to address these issues and is much the worse for it today as a society).

So with all of this in mind it was incredibly poignant when the very Jewish Daughter in law of the man in the urn stepped forward and began reading (in German, of course) a passage from the Jewish faith. It provided a wonderful emotional moment to the service. That it was absolutely free of any irony is pure testament to the distance, the hard distance these people from this beautiful small region in deep Bavaria have marched in a couple of generations, away from some really hard times of which they were not without culpability. We were blessed to be part of this on this day.

My heart goes out to my friend and my admiration for his wife has grown.

I will ask our friends for a translation of the passage and post it here, with their permission. I didn't bring my camera today (always a bad idea) and so will have to return and will post a photo of the monument here later.