My earliest memory concerning the Holocaust was of a man named Peter who lived on the same street as my grandparents. 

Of the memories I can recall of this man he was kind, he spoke with a strange accent, which I now know to be Polish in origin; but most vividly he had a series of numbers tattooed on his forearm. 

Last week I accompanied over two hundred sixth formers from across the North West, including students from Wirral schools, on a day visit to the death camps of Auschwitz. 

The visit was the second stage of a three-part project organised by the Holocaust Educational Trust. 

Alex Maws, Education Co-coordinator for the Lessons in Auschwitz project explained: “The project is based on the premise that seeing something is different than hearing or reading it from a text book.”

“We give sixth form students from around the country the opportunity to visit Auschwitz Birkenau and see for themselves the consequences of racism, prejudice, discrimination and anti Semitism and really consider how those lessons apply to they’re lives and to our society.”

One of the first and most iconic features we encountered at Auschwitz I is its gate.  Arbeit Macht Frei, a German phrase that means “work shall set one free,” adorns the entrance to the camp in large iron letters.  Thousands of prisoners passed underneath this hollow promise, a lie that begins immediately to sum up the tone of such a place. 

For the prisoners of Auschwitz, work did not set one free.  As our guide led us between the quiet streets, we walked beside tall, dark, brick buildings lined with miles of electrified fencing and barbed wire.  We began to see for ourselves how nobody who entered here could be set free.

The rooms of the buildings now house a collection of exhibits that tell the story of the Holocaust.  They succeed in bringing a humanist approach to the incredible numbers and figures that illustrate the scale of the people that died. 

The most shocking and poignant of these exhibits is a long, room full of human hair.  Two tons of hair.  After being murdered in the gas chambers or on arrival at the camp the hair was roughly cut from the heads of the prisoners.  It was then packaged, sold to companies and made into cloth.  When the Russians liberated the camp seven tons of hair was found.

The weather added to the dramatic impact of the day and by the time we arrived at the nearby camp of Auschwitz II, the thin mist that had lingered throughout the day descended into a thick fog.  

There are many notable differences between the two camps.  Auschwitz II was thoroughly harsher in its appearance and application.  Built specifically for its purpose the camp covers a considerably larger area than Auschwitz I.

Birkenhead Sixth Form student, Kyle Armstrong observed: “The thing that struck me about Auschwitz II was the sheer size of it.  How could such a big place be ignored for so long?”

The train tracks that connected Auschwitz II to the farthest reaches of Europe, led one final journey through the imposing ‘gatehouse of death’ and into the camp.  The tracks that brought trains crammed full of thousands of men, women and children often straight to their deaths or at least for a cruel wait, enveloped in work and misery; cuts a harsh line of iron through the snow, before losing itself in the mist.

Our guide continued the tour as the day slipped into night and with it the temperature dropped considerably.  Stood inside what can only be described as a shed, offering little protection for its inhabitants from the cold.  We learnt the prisoners would be wearing nothing more than clothing that resembled pyjamas.

One of the most evocative parts of the day for all who attended was the memorial service that concluded the visit.

In view of the destroyed gas chambers the students read poems by survivors of the Holocaust and Rabbi Barry Marcus led the group with a prayer in Hebrew to remember the victims of Holocaust and genocide everywhere. 

Jess Rummery from Birkenhead High School summed up the feeling the prayer left with everyone.  “Although we don’t understand Hebrew, we all interpreted it to be what we felt it should be and that made it a really personal experience.”

Before we left the memorial at the end of the railway line, everyone placed a small candle along the track.  As we somberly walked our way back to the waiting coaches, the glow of the candles gradually faded into the mist and darkness.

After a long day, I felt extremely humble and very grateful to be able to board the coach and make it safely back to my family and warm, comfortable home. 

So many didn’t get this chance.

The man from my grandparent’s street died a number of years ago and now obviously, I am unable to learn his story first hand.  This is why it is so important to learn, while we still can, the lessons from such a dark, yet recent time in history.