Hansard

I wish that I was not here to give this speech today on the inhumanity of humanity. I speak in the hope that we can all ensure that history does not repeat itself.

I would like to recall some events that might help us to remember. In 1983, I joined my regiment in Germany. I was 22 years old, full of enthusiasm and purpose, and was following a well-trodden route. However, those that did so in 1944-45 might have gone to the same area, but they did so in very different circumstances. The war was coming to an end and the full horror and barbarity of the genocide were only just coming to light.

My base was close to Bergen-Belsen—originally a Soviet prisoner of war camp—which will be my focus today. In 1943, parts of the camp were taken over by the SS to be a holding and exchange camp housing Jewish inmates who could be traded for Germans who were being held outside Germany. The conditions, although harsh, were not as bad as those of other camps, such as Auschwitz or Buchenwald, simply because the Jewish inmates were viewed as tradeable assets.

By the end of 1944 control of the camp was taken over by the commandant of Auschwitz, and the size of the camp dramatically increased to 60,000 people. Many Poles and women were sent there, including Anne Frank, who was to die there in February or March 1945. There were no gas chambers at Belsen: death occurred by bullet, disease, starvation or—as a last resort—transportation to the gas chambers at Auschwitz.

Suffering was acute and it was estimated that more than 50,000 people were killed in the camp during the Nazi tyranny. In 1945, as the allies neared Bergen-Belsen, orders were given that all inmates were to be executed. Thankfully, that was ignored and, on April 15 1945, the camp was handed over voluntarily to the allies. However, that was no humanitarian gesture; it was a gesture that was driven by the wish of the Nazis to prevent the spread of a typhus epidemic to the local population.

When the British troops moved down the mile-long road to the camp, they passed decaying corpses. When they got to the camp, they were ill prepared for what met them. Brigadier Glyn Hughes said:

“The conditions in the camp were really indescribable ... there were various ... piles of corpses lying all over the camp, some in between the huts. The compounds themselves had bodies lying about in them. The gutters were full and within the huts there were uncountable numbers of bodies, some even in the same bunks as the living.”

Chaplain Hardman described prisoners dying where they stood, and prisoners’ clothes being so full of lice that they appeared to move of their own accord. While the handover was taking place, murder was still going on: unobserved, Hungarian guards who had replaced the SS were shooting inmates. British troops tried to instil some semblance of order. Camp guards were ordered to bury corpses and the local Wehrmacht barracks were converted into hospital wards.

Some 29,000 prisoners moved through those wards during April and May 1945 alone. Not all the guards were helpful and many still viewed the task of caring for those whom they had tortured as being below them. Sadly, the kindness of the liberators also contributed to the death of some inmates, with the rations that they freely handed out proving to be too rich for the starving inmates.

The main buildings in the camp were so contaminated by disease and lice that all of them were burned, which removed the physical evidence of suffering, but not before evidence was assembled to try the perpetrators. The subsequent trial resulted in the execution of 16 people, including the commandant, the head female guard and the doctor, who had carried out hideous experiments on inmates.

Presiding Officer, you may well ask why I have picked this story to recount today. I do so because in 1983, 37 years ago, I deliberately traced the route that the British forces took as they moved into the camp. I did so in order to understand fully the horrors that had occurred there. On my way to the camp, I went through the very woods that in 1945 were littered with corpses. The map at the entrance of the camp shows the layout of the camp as it was and the location of the mass graves, which can clearly be seen as mounds that cover the corpses. Now, the only buildings on the site are the museum and the document centre, but there is also a stone memorial.

The camp’s site might not look as it was in 1945 and it might be quiet, but it still felt cold, ominous and evil—and it was. During my entire visit, I never heard a bird sing; it was as though all life had been sucked from the earth and sky. I will never forget what I saw. If we are to prevent what happened there happening again in the future, it is vital that we never forget how inhuman humans can be. We must always be vigilant. We must stand together, for often those who seem to be most human can be the most inhuman.