Dr. Dr. h. c. Alfons Gorbach

For days, a sweet odour has fed the camp, 2,800 uninvited corpses lay in front of the crematorium. A stroke of 800 Jewish inmates who had died to 24 in the last few days due to lack of food stood on the industrial track before the wire cluster. A longing rose to heaven: “Lord, redeem us!”

But no longer far beyond the paths of the merciful heaven rolled the ointments of American artillery. In our senses a thought lived: what will happen to us? Our worries were confirmed in gloomy reasons. In the last hour, a secret command of Himmler had received the following wording: “After the inmates of the Beech Forest camp had been cruellyhaved to the population of Weimar after their liberation, the instructions were not given to letting an inmate live in the hands of the enemy. The margins are to be evacuated immediately.” The net with which the camp command turned around was no longer as dense as it was. Soon everyone knew what the ruler of the SS had in mind with us. There were still some execution commands and an important number of guards in the camp.

In a shaky longing, our eyes penetrated through the mesh of the mesh. Would the execution commands act according to Himmler's command? The answer came mute, but dreadful and redeeming: From the main guard rose on 29.4. 1945 the white flag high. The pliers of the American and French armed forces were to close around wide areas of Bavaria, Dachau and Munich were in the boiler. More and more intensely, the fighting noise. Balls whipped over the roofs. We lukewarm in an enormous tension, still forced away from the lurking fear, an unforeseen event could destroy the unprobable of our near happiness. Since at last – an unforgettable moment – he remains in the rigid number of words – it was two minutes after half a six o'clock in the evening – a small American battle car snaps through the grid gate to the appeal square. The language cannot sign the shrine which is above the death of the roofs of Dachau sounded! Thousands, tens of thousands cried to him, a cry of joy, as a urn of new life hope from years of spilled fountains of the heart. From the barrack doors, the stream of the tortured and deprivationed had swelled;five, ten, and eleven years ago some had suffered, mental and physical torture. Now hastened, stumbled, they cried out into life, which once again wanted to offer themselves to them in a sudden inclination.