TESTIMONIALS

Student Testimonials

Watching images and hearing reflections on places of immeasurable suffering and destruction is not easy. And you wouldn't be surprised to hear me say, that this couldn't come close to the brutal experience of actually being in those places - of humbly bearing witness to their very existence.

But if we are going to remember the destruction, we must also remember that for a thousand years before the Shoah, Jews lived rich Jewish lives in Poland, and we honour our history by choosing to live active Jewish lives today.

The more time that passes since the Shoah, the fewer survivors there are who are able to return to these places where they can retell their stories of life before the war, the suffering of the Shoah, and their miraculous survival. And so it was an incredible privilege to share this journey with them. They made this experience painfully real.

To deal with this, day after day, place after place, is tremendously confronting. And I want to share with you something you won't hear the March attendees themselves say today - and that is, that throughout this journey, our students conducted themselves with a great deal of dignity, respect, & sensitivity. In these places, many of our students stood up and shared their family's most painful memories, and I believe they were able to do that because they felt the genuine support of their peers.

You need to know that the Australian March of the Living distinguished itself this year, as it has done many times before, as being a particularly mature and a particularly respectful delegation. And this is due to the students themselves, and the remarkable program that prepared and guided them. And so for me, it was a great honour to be a part of this, and I think each of us should feel much pride in our March students of 2010.

Thank you.

Rabbi Shamir Caplan

Our first destination in Poland was not the death camps or ghettos as some of us may have expected, it was the beautiful city of Kracow. Some of the most meaningful moments that I spent on MOTL were in the city of Kracow discovering the rich Jewish life pre-war Poland. Jewish people had been living in Poland for hundreds of years and it was amazing to see the mark the Jewish people had left in Poland and especially Kracow. Whilst walking down the streets of Kracow we saw marks on the ridges of doors. When someone asked the tour guide what the holes in the doors were, they told us that they were holes where Mezuzahs used to be. Those Mezuzah's symbolised jewish life and the life that was.

We also went to Jewish cemeteries that dated back hundreds of years. It was weird going to a cemetery and not having negative emotions or feeling saddened but rather I was overwhelmed with a feeling of content. These were generations of Jewish people who weren't murdered and I imagined to have had full and rich lives which made me realise how long Jews prospered and lived in Poland.

I think it's so easy to go to Poland and to only go to the death camps or the ghettos and see the destruction that occurred in Poland but it's harder to see how much life and happiness was spent in Poland too.

I personally was not expecting to go to Poland to see all of the life that was but only now do I realise how important it is to visit the past in order to be able to understand the destruction that occurred.

Although I still can't comprehend the atrocities of the Shoah I think that going to Kracow really helped me understand the depth and enormous scale of the Shoah.

Ashleigh DeWinter

It is hard to believe 4 months ago we were beginning a momentous journey to Poland and Israel. The impact it has had on me has made me reflect to the beginning about why I wanted to go on MOTL. I didn't just go on March of the Living to meet Jewish people. I also went on MOTL to have a closer connection to my Jewish heritage. To find out what made me, me.

Yes, we had learnt about the Holocaust in school and from my family, but the only way to learn about such a horrible ordeal is to go to the place where it happened and to witness firsthand the places and see the memorials to the 6 million Jews that perished in the Holocaust. I wanted to teach and educate people about my experience, and hopefully be able to talk to people about the horrors that the Jews went through during the Holocaust, highlighting man's inhumanity towards man, and warning of the dangers if tolerance and acceptance is not part of the society that we grow up in. Being at a school like Ravenswood it was very important for me to be in an environment of other Jews, who all have a shared knowledge and understanding of what had happened to our families during the Holocaust. It was important for me to be able to connect with other Jews.

The other things that I wanted to experience was being part of an environment where I had a sense of belonging, without having to feel different or explain who I am. However in saying that, I am very fortunate in being accepted by my friends and teachers at Ravenswood as they take a great interest in all things Jewish.

I am happy to say that this trip was everything that I had hoped for as far as experiencing a wonderful connection with other Jewish people of my age as well as having a deeper and more emotional understanding of how the older generation had gone through such hardship.

I have no regrets for going on this trip as it has made me a stronger and more accepting person.

MOTL has given me the best of both worlds, as far as having friendships that will last forever and an understanding of my heritage. I felt and still feel that it is a duty and responsibility of mine to help facilitate understanding, respect and tolerance amongst our people and people from other religious groups

By going on MOTL it is part of my journey to hopefully achieve these goals as I go through my life as a proud Jew.

Bianca Block

The bus ride to Auschwitz 1 was terrifying in its own right.

Through the glass windows, I could see only large swathes of tall trees. It was as if the trees were haunted, each one staring back at me in all its mystery and knowledge. I couldn’t help but wonder what they had been doing 70 years ago? Had their height and shadows offered an escape and resistance?

Had they complied and revealed secrets? Or had they too been victims, surrounded by the smells of death and Nazism, yet rooted so deeply into the outskirts of Auschwitz that they had no choice but to be bystanders.

And yet, endless forests of trees were staring back at me all these years later – still breathing life into an area that represents death and tragedy.

It was a confusing paradox.

Once we arrived at Auschwitz 1, I began to shake.
I wasn’t sure if it was because of the cold or because of all the emotions that I felt at once
We walked to a former gas chamber.
My friends offered me to walk with them, but for some reason I chose to walk alone, as if to experience it by myself.
As we approached the small brick building, a friend whispered to me, “If you need to cry, you can cry on me.” I couldn’t remember the last time I cried, and thought I would be the one comforting others not the other way around.
We were now just meters away from the entrance of the gas chamber.
All of the understanding I had gathered about the Holocaust up until now – my grandparent’s stories, Sue Hampel’s Holocaust studies, dates, facts– nothing could prepare me for the moment I reached the opening of the chamber.
At that moment, in particular, I imagined Saba’s family walking possibly the same path as I was. Scratch marks, blue stains and confined walls were disgusting, but at the same time somehow comforting, because they spoke the truths of the Holocaust. It was as if I turned to these truths for answers, and to feel closer to the people who were gassed.
I was the last kid to leave the chamber. But obviously I didn't get any answers.
In that room nothing made sense.

Rachy Alter

In this forest the trees have eyes
and they saw it all
they had no ears to hear the screams or the crying
no nose to smell the sickly stench of death
no hands to reach out and pull the children to safety
no legs to run away and never look back
they had no lips to cry out "stop, please, don't!"
but if these trees did have lips, what would they say?
for in this forest, the trees have eyes
they were forced to watch it all
they saw mothers clutch their children and beg for their lives
they saw the children crying in bewilderment
they saw those soldiers with the red spiders on their arms
the guns in their hands.
as the bodies fell on top of each other
the trees cried
they saw the pain, the fear, the horror, the sorrow
the look in a young girls eyes and she whispered to them "remember me"
and they do remember
they still stand in that place
the only innocent witnesses, rooted forever
in this forest the trees have eyes
and they will always remember what they saw.

Delilah Schwartz

Auschwitz. If there is one thing all of us Jews have in common, it is that this word is able to strike a world of emotion within any who understand its meaning. As we neared our most feared destination, the atmosphere on the bus grew dull and cold. The fact that this was reflected in the weather seemed more than a coincidence. We stepped off the bus and congregated under the infamous words of Arbeit Macht Frei. Work Will Make You Free. As I stood beneath the sign I was overcome with anger as I thought of those who were so cruelly deceived. We were addressed by the survivor who accompanied us, Max Zilberman, who may I now just commend on the strength he showed in returning to all of these horrible places. I know I speak for the entire group when I say we are eternally grateful.

We moved together towards the lone standing gas chamber and crematorium. In small groups, we walked into this factory of death. Scratch marks on the wall. The small, disgusting hole of the crematoria. The blackened concrete stained with memories of screaming, naked bodies. Albeit confronting, these are not the most powerful memories I gained that day. I looked to my left. The face of my friend, my usually strong, fun loving friend, was tainted with tears. At that point, I was so overcome distress and rage that I wanted nothing more then to tear down the walls around me. Instead I hugged him and told him he would be alright. Only now can I understand the importance of my peers that surrounded me that day.

The rest of the day at Auschwitz seemed almost more like an educational experience. The towering barracks which were used to brutally imprison innocent people have long since been replaced by what felt like small exhibits. The tour was finished by a heart-breaking memorial at what was known as the death wall where innocent men, women and children were shot for no good reason. Here we commemorated the dead through prayer and a few emotional speeches.

Two days later, the bus made its way towards the concentration camp which would be our starting point. We were handed small wooden plaques. On these we wrote a small message. These were to be placed on the railroad tracks that lead into Birkenau. Mine read, “The flame of your memory, will burn inside of us forever”. The sun was out. It was no longer hiding behind the clouds. For me this meant warmth and pride. I do not believe that this weather was a coincidence. The bus slowed and eventually came to a stop.

We entered Auschwitz not as prisoners, but as free men and women. Together, we made our way around the barracks and into the positions assigned to our country. In rows of eight we stood and awaited the beginning of the March. In my row, stood seven of my closest friends. These were the boys who I have grown up with, and have had a huge influence in shaping the person I am today. These boys are special to me, and the fact that I was able to share this moment with them gave me strength. I looked around me. Tied to the backs of the people around me were flags. Some Australian, some Israeli. The familiar sound of the Shofar signalled that it was our time to leave.

Arm in arm, we made our way out the camp. Out of respect, I walked with my head bowed. But in truth, my head had never felt any higher. As I thought of those who had walked this path before us, I was filled with immense pride. I looked back, only to see that 11,000 blue jackets were walking behind me. The Jews had been through the darkest period of world history, yet we were still here. I was still here. To be a small part of this filled me with so much passion. It was a long walk, but there were 6 million souls who walked with me every step of the way. I could not have stopped if I wanted to.

The mood changed when finally we were met by the huge guard tower that stood in front of Birkenau. I placed my plaque in the ground, surrounded by hundreds more that had already been placed. Birkenau itself was a very surreal place for me. Whether it was the wind blowing through the trees or the setting sun, the place almost seemed to be at peace. This, along with the houses that were not 300 metres from what was once a factory of death left me feeling uneasy.

Ellie Wiesel states that “the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference”. Are we becoming desensitised to the Shoah? Is all this death and destruction moving to the back of our minds? Is the fact that a man can see a place of pure evil from his balcony and feel nothing not a scary thought?

I knew then why I came on the march. I have pledged many times the words “never again”. However, on my way back to the bus on this emotional day I could not have meant it any more. Through mourning and memory, these people will live on, but most of all, what I have gained from this trip, is the knowledge that living my life to the absolute fullest, living the life that was taken from all of these people will in my eyes, bring them back to life. I can now say with the ultimate respect and honour that the flame of their memory will burn inside of me forever.

Thankyou.

Jonathan Felthun

The following is an excerpt of a diary entry that I wrote having visited a mass grave in the Buczyna Forest outside the city of Tarnow.

"Nature

Unlike the camps, building and people of the Holocaust, the nature remains and always will remain unchanged, standing the test of time. The trees are the same trees. The wind is the same wind, and the sky is the same sky, which watched on helplessly as 6 million of its children were brutally annihilated.

It is for this reason that when today, we visited Zbylitowska Gora, a forest outside the city of Tarnow that it had such a different, profound effect on me compared to the camps already visited. This forest was utilized by the Nazis in mass murders throughout the war. In particular, this forest bared witness to the murder of more than 6,000 Jews, children and elderly in one day.

Visiting this place we were surrounded by the same fields, trees, and grass as those who perished were subjected to, not 70 years ago. Auschwitz-Birkenau was very difficult to imagine in action, as thankfully I am unable to materialize the full extent of such horrors. The forest on the other hand provided a clear concept of how the situation occurred. It was not as difficult to conceptualize the atrocities that occurred here as it was in other areas."

This dreadful place was very different to other sites of murder visited throughout the trip in that it is functioning today as it was during the Shoah. Just as the wind blew and rustled through the leaves in those days, it continues to do so today. For me this was a stark reminder that the Shoah was not something that occurred in a far off land in a far off time. This happened recently and could very well happen again. Visiting this place was a strong reminder of the importance of social justice and taking a stand against discrimination and vilification to ensure that such atrocities never happen again.

“The fields were here
The fields are here
The fields will always be here”

Mark Velik

Travelling through the beauty of the Polish forest, I was not aware of what lay ahead.

When we arrived, I took time to observe the innocence of the surrounding environment. It seemed that it could almost be impossible that such an inhumane event occurred here.

Entering the gate of this horrid place, my world became cold and dark. Belzec was a memorialised monument, which clearly portrayed the camp's inhumanity. I struggled to picture and conceptualise how 500 000 people were murdered here in 8 months. The burnt rocks symbolise destruction and extermination.

Walking around the outside of the monument, I acknowledge the different communities that perished at this camp, so many of them. These communities were engraved on the pathway. They will never be forgotten. The wire sticking out of the boundary of the monument symbolised the barbed wire which imprisoned so many people. I started to feel something indescribable, something I wish not to feel again.

Belzec was a death factory.
Many came in, however no one went out.
The only forms of life during the time of the camp were the villainous German murderers. Unlike Birkenau, there were no barracks built for inmates, only gas chambers and crematoriums. Why were there no barracks?
There was no need for life at Belzec, The purpose was death. Belzec was truly hell's place on Earth.
My Belzec experience had a great, powerful impact on me. The atrocities occurred in that tragic place and the souls that were lost will never be forgotten.
I had a personal connection with Belzec, which will never make me forget.

Gidon Kangisser

THE MARCH

On Yom Hashoah, April 12th, we embarked on the signature experience of March of the Living. With arms linked, marching in utter silence, the Australian group joined tens of thousands of Jews, young and old, in marching from Auschwitz 1 to Auschwitz 2, better known as Birkenau.

Weighing on everyone's emotions was the enormity of our shared history, our pride, fear, anguish, sorrow, and hope. Here we were, living, thriving, and surviving Jews, united in telling the world that we did indeed emerge victorious. But we were also commemorating the harrowing destruction of our past, the annihilation of Jewish children, parents, siblings and lovers. A people, our people, slept in the barracks we could now see, were annihilated in the gas chamber we could now touch, went up in smoke in the crematoria that we could almost taste and smell.

The following is a poem I wrote after the March:

Close your eyes.

Consider that it is a freezing winter, not a chilly spring.

Imagine that loose stones lay scattered, not sealed roads.

Consider that your shoes are thin and full of holes, not closed, not comfortable. Perhaps you don't have shoes at all.

Imagine the lifeless souls who surround you, who have been bound together for no true reason, and share little in common. Open your eyes ever so slightly and know that your comrades share purpose and history; proud, they are here this time for a reason

Consider that you cannot stop, cannot sip water, that any sign of weakness is met with fear and then death, where instead you can walk at leisurely pace, drink, and eat.

Imagine that you are marching day upon endless day, with no end in sight and little motivation to continue without prospect of a future, and then realise that your own journey spans 3 kilometres, not 500, and that your journey will end and you will wake in a comfortable bed tomorrow morning.

Consider that you are arriving to die, not entering, observing, leaving.

Open your eyes. Dignify and Commemorate. Consider and Imagine.

Max Kausman

Approaching Majdanek Death Camp, I bore in mind that this particular camp had a reputation of being the hardest camp to experience. This was most definitely the case for me.

Throughout the whole day one thought pervaded - that this camp could be up and running within 24 hours. Stepping through the camp gate and entering the gas chamber took less than 5 minutes. Straight from life to death in a matter of 5 minutes.

This was the first time the concept of so much life lost hit me and I was deeply disturbed. The gas chamber had an attached room where the Nazis watched the people being killed through a window. It was literally unbelievable, conceptually disgusting.

Barrack after barrack with photos and tributes for all those who perished. Entering the barracks felt strange and out of place, especially walking into one filled top to bottom with old shoes. The aged smell penetrated the room and made me imagine small children being forced to rip off their shoes in the freezing cold winter. It all seemed so real, too real. It was hard to imagine, but once your mind enabled you to, it was almost inescapable.

The next section of the camp was the crematorium. The ovens all lined up in a row were daunting. In another room there were big wheelbarrows used to carry dead bodies from the gas chambers to the crematoriums. I just stood there staring at it, trying to envisage the murdered bodies piled onto each other, but it was not conceivable. Living in such a different world, it is difficult to conceptualize that kind of mass extermination.

At the far end of the camp there was a site of grass pits where the Nazis carried out a mass shooting of 18 000 Jews over just 2 days. Over and over again I said to myself; ‘you are standing exactly where people’s lives were shattered within the split second of a gunshot.’ It was almost impossible to believe that this happened at the very spot where my feet were planted in the ground. I stood there for a long time and slowly took the whole day and experience in. I wept for the murdered millions.

Before leaving we had a ceremony on steps leading up to a big dome which had the remains of all the ashes and soil under it. When we had time to walk up the steps and see the ashes, I felt short of breath, like I was being consumed. It was such an overpowering feeling. The huge mountain of ashes was the only thing left of the unfortunate sufferers.

But now something else remains; their memory in our hearts.
This was an extremely impactful day and the sadness couldn’t escape me.

Jessica Singer

Birkenau

Marching through the gates of Birkenau with 10 000 people marching beside me instilled a sense of pride in me.

To know that 70 years later, these 10 000 are making it their responsibility to remember. However, sitting here outside the gas chambers at Birkenau, my pride has diminished, replaced with emptiness that accompany my heavy tears.

The vastness of the camp amazes me.

To think, that at full capacity, this place was overloaded with prisoners unknown to their fate.

Walking through the barracks, my feet could feel the footsteps of the unfortunate ones, who were hidden from the world in this death factory.

As I'm staring at the ruins of the gas chambers, I know that 1 million innocent civilians walked down those steps, through the entry surrounded by those brick walls, and exited through a chimney, as particles of thick, black smoke.

How many particles did those million make, the ones who entered this place yet never exited?

Ali Pinch

Dr. Mengele's Twin Experiments

Growing up, one gets asked a lot of questions. Throughout all of these frequently asked questions, I was always asked one particular question more often than any other question: “What’s it like being a twin?” Why is this relevant?

Being a part of March of the Living, I am confronted by the fact that had I been living an odd 70 years ago, I would not just have been asked 'what’s it like to be a twin' I could have potentially been a candidate for the lottery that no one wants to win.

Eva, a survivor of Joseph Mengele’s experiments, is one such twin who won such a lottery.This is how she recalls her and her family's arrival at the Aushwitz railhead.

‘When the doors to our cattle car opened, I heard SS soldiers yelling, “Schnell Schnell!”, and ordering everybody out. My mother grabbed Miriam and me by the hand. She was always trying to protect us because we were the youngest.

Everything was moving very fast, and as I looked around, I noticed my father and my two older sisters were gone. As I clutched my mother’s hand, an SS man hurried by shouting, “Twins! Twins!” He stopped to look at us. Miriam and I looked very much alike.

“Are they twins?” he asked my mother.

“Is that good?” she replied.

He nodded yes.

“They are twins,” she said..

Once the SS guard knew we were twins, Miriam and I were taken away from our mother without any warning or explanation. Our screams fell on deaf ears. I remember looking back and seeing my mother’s arms stretched out in despair as we were led away by a soldier. That was the last time I saw her ...."

Both Eva and her twin sister Miriam were put through many extremely brutal surgeries and experiments by Mengele. As adults, Eva and Miriam suffered serious health problems. Eva suffered from miscarriages and tuberculosis. Her son had cancer. Miriam’s kidneys never fully developed and she died in 1993 of a rare form of cancer, probably brought on by the unknown experiments and injections which she was subjected to at the hands of Joseph Mengele.

Approximately three thousand twins passed through Auschwitz during WWII until its liberation at the end of the war. Only a few of these twins survived the experiments and it was very rare for both of the two twins to have survived.

Reading about Dr. Mengele’s experiments evoked emotions in me which I had never felt before. A mix of anger, sadness and questions filled my mind.

I could not imagine ever losing my twin, the closeness I feel towards her is unique. How could I ever live if she was taken away from me? I cannot imagine the feelings of hurt and distress Mengele’s twins had to go through.

Sapir Turkenitz

Fairytales, they do come true but where was my happy ending?
My name is Chana, Chana Mendel, I lived in a castle, in a far away land
There was a dragon, an evil dragon. Everyman bowed to him and every woman loved him
But my people, my people were slaves to him.
My beautiful castle was set on fire
My horse and carriage became a cattle, my pink puffy dress was torn into shreds and my gold locks
Were cut and pulled.
Where was my prince charming?
When was he coming to save me?
I waited stranded for days hoping and praying, but I received no answer.
How alone I felt, my mother and father, I missed them so dearly,
My brothers they were gone.
Where are you?
I hated him and his wicked sisters.
They spat on me they laughed at me they murdered my everything.
What was my name again?
Where did I live?
Oh help me prince, I do not want to be forgotten to rot
Here in my fairytale.
Where is my happy ending?
You down there remember me
My name is Chana, Chana Mendel

Daniella Abraham

On what was meant to be our last day in Poland, we were in Warsaw where we visited the last remaining remnants of the ghetto wall, the Gensia cemetery and Mila 18. Mila 18 was one of the most inspirational parts of my March of the Living.

Mila 18 was a bunker on 18 Mila Street in Warsaw and acted as the headquarters for the ZOB, the Jewish underground fighting movement of the Warsaw Ghetto. The ZOB was organised by Mordechai Anilewicz in 1942, who was only 23 years old at the time. In 1942, there was a mass deportation of Jews from the ghetto, leaving only 60,000 inhabitants out of 350,000.

Rumours began to circulate around the ghetto of the death camps and the possibility of total liquidation, Anilewicz and his friends believed that the time had come in which there was nothing more to lose. With the help of the Polish underground movement, the ZOB were supplied with guns, pistols and food.

On the 27th of Nissan, Anilewicz and his friends began to fire on the Nazi’s in the ghetto. This was the beginning of the Warsaw ghetto uprising, which saw a group of 300 young Jewish fighters up against the strength of the German military.

The ZOB consisting of 300 Jews lasted 4 weeks, which was 4 weeks longer than the entire Polish army did against the Nazi’s.

Anilewicz’s final words were “My life’s dream has come true; I have lived to see Jewish resistance in the ghetto in all its greatness and glory”.

The visit to Mila 18, where today all that remains is a stone monument commemorating the names of the fighters who lost their lives, was a very meaningful part of my March of the Living experience. To me, Mila 18 marks the site where the destruction and devastation that the Nazi’s set out to achieve on the Jewish race, reached a point where no more could be tolerated. The uprising occurred, because Jews in the ghetto realised that their lives could not get any worse, and that they would rather control their fate, than leave it in the hands of the Nazi’s.

Mordechai Anilewicz is a hero to me as he represents a young man, who at the time of the uprising was only a few years older than me. He was a man, who took a stand in what he believed was the right thing to do. Some may say that he led 300 young Jews to their death. I say he led 300 Jews to their dignity, integrity and most importantly self-pride.

Dean Zinn

A camp unlike the others we visited, does not exist anymore, but in its place stands a beautiful memorial that spans the same length and the width of the original complex.I chose to speak about Belzec tonight, as this was the camp I felt most confronted by. Our visit to this camp began with a tekes but unlike the other ceremonies we had previously, We were taken into a massive concrete room that lay underground. As we walked in you felt the air go cold and we realized that there were no lights. We walked in silence to the sounds of one of our educators playing the didgeridoo. Eventually we all found our individual place within the large room and sat down in silence.

During this time we listened to two songs, one being a song just written a day before we went to Belzec and the other a song written long, long ago. This tekes for me will never be forgotten. It is now one of my most memorable moments of the trip, let alone my life, due to the pure emotion of the music and lyrics.

After the ceremony we all went our separate ways and explored the monument. As seen in photos, the pathway proceeds down as walls of concrete and steel surround you. The further you proceed into the camp the more surrounded and enclosed you feel personally. As I reached the end of the pathway I got to a small clearing where hundreds of names of Belzec victims were etched. After I spent a few minutes reading the names of the victims I chose to keep moving. To the left and right of the clearing there are stairs that travel back up to normal ground level, so I chose to go right and keep walking. But as I got to the top of the stairs I realised I was standing at the back of the camp and discovered how big the camp really was. From where I was standing I could see the real picture and portrayal of the monument. Hundreds of rocks of different shades that cover a massive area. The shades of these rocks symbolised the exact place of the gas chambers throughout the camp. Unlike other death camps at the time, which would maintain a large number of labourers, Belzec was built to serve one purpose. Extermination.

When the train arrived at the station the victims were instantly instructed to go straight into gas chambers, a process where victims were only given 400 meters of walking to realise their fate.

After we were given time to walk around the memorial we held another ceremony. During this ceremoy I read a poem about how every man has a name and how every name has a value no matter who you are. After the song we were told a horrific story of a young boy who survived a gassing due to being resuscitated only to be thrown back into the gas chamber by the doctor who saved him.

Belzec is a camp where over 450,000 Jews perished within 9 months. A camp where only 2 people survived. And a camp thus mustn't be forgotten under any circumstances.

Lev Shani

Issy: A three week trip in which memories are created and remembered, tears are shed, and friendships are made. Such a journey is not complete without the survivors. Knowing that we are one of the last generations who are able to be accompanied by such strong and hopeful people is confronting. Seeing their resilience and composure whilst walking through the camps where they came close to being murdered, where family members were seen for the last time really put everything into perspective. As emotional as the camps were, and how incredible it was being able to see where such terrible things happened, this doesn't quite compare to seeing how the survivors endure such painful memories. If anything they were guiding us, helping us through it all, and offering us support.

Kelsey: The three survivors that accompanied us on the journey were Max Zilberman, Rita and Bill Ross. Each had their own moving story of an incredible survival, and the composure they stood with as they repeated their stories to us was admirable. They walked with us, helped us, and offered us all of the support we needed. They were someone we could talk to. Max, whose life was saved due to his physical strength despite a lack of nutrients, sleep and warmth, was sent from Auschwitz to a labour camp where he was later liberated. To be able to walk through the exact places with Max where his life saving decision was made was mind-blowing. Despite walking through the same grounds where members of his family were murdered, Max showed courage and determination, and never has he let the terrible past affect the great life he lives today.

Issy: Max's story of courage and determination was similar to the other survivors, Rita and Bill, who had done the March in previous years. We were given the opportunity to meet the family who saved Rita. A loving and accepting family hid Rita and her family during the Shoah, as well as hiding another family. They risked their own lives to save 8 others. It made you think, if just a few more people held out their hand to help those that were being targeted for no other reason than their religion, many more generations would still be living today.

Bill, Rita's husband, was from Germany. He left his home at a young age with some of his family. Bill left his childhood home, many belongings and most importantly his family in order to escape the racist actions that would soon follow. Unlike many, Bill's family predicted what was coming. This in turn saved him, and many like h

im.

Kelsey: The Survivors created positivity and comfort. It's their stories we remember and they will continue to live on with the flame of memory, this memory we pass on. We are all lucky to be able to have been presented with the opportunity to be able to take the memory of the people who perished in the Holocaust with us. We carry the flame inside us, and carry on life with their memories, and with their spirits, and the flame of their souls that will never fade.

Kelsey Lew and Isabella Sceats

Having survivors accompany us on the March of the Living Experience was a true honour. Max, Rita and Bill all helped us through our journeys, each with a different approach and different pieces of advice. They were always ready to enrich our knowledge of the Holocaust, inspire us with personal stories, and of course, comfort us with a warm and loving hug. Max, Rita and Bill made everything we had learnt and everything we were witnessing true. They are the evidence of the tragedy that took place in Europe. They are the witnesses, and by them accompanying us – we, therefore, became witnesses of the witnesses. The presence of all three of our survivors on our trip was a gift, and I cannot imagine what it would have been without them. I know that all the participants of March of the Living Australia agree that they added an imperative quality and each, personally, touched us. I fear the time that no survivor will be able to attend this trip, for it will suffer greatly and lose an important personal touch.

On behalf of every participant of MOTL Australia - students and facilitators – I would like to thank Max, Rita and Bill for their pure courage and their ability to help us remember the lives that were lost. I would like to dedicate this poem I wrote, to the lost lives of the Shoah, and to the family members of Max Rita and Bill, lost in the Shoah:

For the children, innocent and shy
For the mothers, nurturing and caring
For the fathers, protectors and guiders
For the sister, loving and trusting
For the brothers, admirable and honourable
I am here to remember you, all 6 000 000 of you
who were not merely 6 000 000
who were not merely numbers but:
one – Mindla Blutsztejn, perished in Treblinka
and one – Ester Gutmann, perished Skierniewice
and one - Perec Perelman, perished in Warsaw
and one – Abram Cyngel, perished in Majdanek
I, along with the Jewish nation,
the living, thriving Jewish nation
am here to remember you. Each one of you.
for each had a life,
each had a family,
and each had future.
As David Berger said in his last letter“...i should like someone to remember that there once lived a person named David Berger”

Mikayla Freedman

“Dozens of students have finally arrived home after being trapped in Poland for a week on a trip they say they’ll never forget.” Quoted by Peter Hitchener on Nine News.

We were told that we were going to be woken up at 5am on the morning that we were to leave for Israel. At 7am, we heard the knock on the door. We were told that a volcano in Iceland had erupted and that our plane was delayed as a result. We impatiently waited around the lobby of the Novotel hotel in Warsaw for what felt like a lifetime until we finally were given the devastating news that we were in fact stuck in Poland. At first, we were told that we would only be trapped for one or two days until the volcanic ash cloud had passed. The one or two days turned into five days of constant disappointment and crushed hope. Our final and only attempt at escaping Poland came on the fifth day when we set off on an 8 hour bus ride to Budapest. The charted plane at Budapest airport waited to fly us to our longed-for destination – Israel.

During our time in Poland, we experienced our own kind of emotional rollercoaster. Many tears were shed, hands were held and hugs were needed. However, being stuck in Poland was not all bad. In fact, many of the experiences that we gained from those five extra days were unforgettable. We got to sleep in every morning and go shopping to the large shopping malls in Warsaw, we visited old towns and Jewish cemeteries, I met my first Hippopotamus in the Warsaw zoo and we had our own mini celebrations and parties at the Novotel hotel. Together, as a very close group, we supported one another every minute of the day, and as a result, we made friendships that will last a lifetime.

Our March of the Living experience was not ruined because we were stuck in Poland. We may have missed out on exciting events in Israel, but at least we gained new learning experiences – such as improving our Polish, learning that eating white bread rolls for every meal of the day is a great way to put on weight, discovering that Polish men and women generally don’t enjoy smiling and Smoka 3D is definitely the coolest movie going around. Ultimately, the greatest lesson that we learnt was that not even Eyjafjallakoekull could stop us from reaching the Promised Land.

Millie Fayman

That fateful day when we were told that we were finally, after many attempts, leaving Poland was an experience of its own. The long bus ride, allowed us all to grasp what we had just experienced, and to try to understand the importance of the trip. Filled with mixed emotions of sadness and confusion, we mulled over the last few days. The camps brought out everyone's true feelings, forcing us to deal with them in our own way. For some this meant through tears and the comfort of a good friend, others preferred to cope alone. This was, however, a heavy and intense time for us all. During the last, unexpected days in Poland, regret at missing out on the many parties and fun times we were supposed to have experienced in Israel was evident, however, one cannot deny that these days allowed us to experience the life of Polish people today, in a way that made Poland, as a country, more real, as opposed to, only the place where the horror of the Holocaust took place.

The small town of Kazimierz, the Warsaw Zoo, and shopping, highlighted that Poland is still a functioning place, with people who are unconnected to the atrocities which occurred over 60 years ago.

On the bus, to Budapest, I found myself questioning how people can bare to live in a place which has a history as awful as Poland, but at the same time, remembering the unsuspecting beauty which many areas of the country portrayed. As we reached the airport, any feelings of sadness and dismay, were quickly replaced by happiness and excitement, as we prepared to enter the Promised Land. For many this would be their first time in Israel, and despite being disappointed at not having more time to explore our homeland, we were very much willing to make the most of what we had. Poland had taken a lot out of us emotionally and we were exhausted. But the last few days allowed us to get to know each other better and strengthen the bond between the group. With this behind us we prepared for the final step in our March of the Living journey, Israel.

Danit Saks

Reflections on being in Israel After many meltdowns, tears, Sam’s speeches that nearly gave us nervous breakdowns….and more bread rolls, we finally boarded the bus for our fourteen hour ride across Europe to get to Budapest.

Arriving at the airport, about to get on a flight to Israel, my personal experience was that.. i thought i was going to die.. so for the whole duration of the flight i was hyperventilating. But when the pilot announced ‘We are now landing in Israel’ mine and everyone else’s hearts filled with excitement and the plane broke out in cheer.

It was amazing to get to Israel!

Arriving in the Promised Land is a feeling that is impossible to express. We were so grateful to be in Israel and being stuck in Poland made getting to Israel one hundred times more special. It was my first time in israel, so i kissed the ground, as you do, and landed up with a mouthful of gravel. Being there with the group was one of the most amazing feelings ever.

We were jam packed with wonderful activities. Shopping, floating in the Dead Sea, crashing Belgium’s rooftop party (no biggie), riding camels in the desert, eating in Bedouin tents and having Shabbas in Jerusalem. These were all experiences we will never forget. Singing, dancing, partying, our bus rides, jamming with guitars in the hallways till all hours of the night, being with our muds and our discussion group talks are all the things that made our trip so special. Going to Save a Child’s Heart was one of the most touching experiences. Connecting with kids of all cultures with major health problems and making them smile was one of the most fulfilling feelings.

After being through the remains of the Holocaust, being in Israel, surrounded by Jews, made us so proud to be Jewish, and it truly reflected the importance of Israel, and how amazing it is. The food helped.

Our group bonded so much over the three weeks, and our 'mads' were beyond amazing and I think I can speak for all of us when I say that being in Israel, whether it was your first time or seventh, being there together was a special experience that we will never forget.

Micaela Chait

Although our time in Israel was shorter than expected it was still as significant as the remainder of our experience and was definitely a time to remember, especially for those who had not been to Israel before!

After travelling for several hours on a long bus route and then finally flying on the aeroplane we were all dreaming about, we eventually arrived in the beloved Holy Land and were glad to strip off the layers and soak up the sun. As our stay in Israel was a lot shorter than expected, our days were jam packed and we were constantly moving and travelling throughout each day. We were fortunate enough to be able to see many of the main sights in Israel and experience things and places we had all longed and wished to share with each other. Some of these include shopping at the markets in Tel Aviv, visiting Rabin Square, visiting the children at Save A Child's Heart in Jaffa, having a beautiful lunch in a Bedouin Tent in Kfar Hanokdim, climbing the snake path at Masada during the early hours to watch the sunrise, floating in the Dead Sea at Ein Gedi Beach and enjoying the beautiful views, visiting the Kotel, a nice Shabbat and the hotel Prima Kings in Jerusalem. The list goes on and on!

The organisers did a really amazing job of making sure we had the best possible experiences in such a short time. There was not a dull moment as we rode camels (and donkeys) through the dessert, relaxed on Shabbat in the beauty of Jerusalem and still managed to fit in a somewhat unexpected rooftop party with the Belgium and American Marchers. Israel was the perfect way to end a pretty unbelievable trip. There is no feeling like climbing Masada at four in the morning to watch the sunrise with such a fantastic group of people and there is no one that I would have rather shared those memories with.

We will never forget the memories we have created within these places as well as the many things we have learnt and taken away from them. We looked forward to each day with a new sense of excitement and constantly had a smile on our face. The friendships we had created before the trip and had developed throughout Poland continued to flourish as we shared these fun and lighter times with each other. Israel was where we got to see our people praying, dancing, and living. It was here that made me think of the 6 million whose lives were lost. They tried to kill us, wipe us off the face of the earth, but we are still here, still strong, still very much alive and as Bill Ross said that is the greatest revenge we can have.

Gia Singer and Alex Popper

Why we went on MOTL I felt like it was important to go on MOTL to learn about the history of Poland for it is an integral part of Jewish history. My Zaida was a survivor of the holocaust and was born in Poland. I wanted to use MOTL as an opportunity to see the country where my family came from, to see the place where my Zaida grew up. Before Poland was tarnished by the tragedy of the holocaust and evil of the Nazis, it was once a country where Jewish life prospered and thrived. I though it was important to learn about pre-war Poland.

I was extremely interested in learning about the Holocaust during year 10 and chose to do Holocaust Studies as an elective. However, learning the facts from a book didn't seem like enough. It felt like a story, making it hard for me to imagine or understand the magnitude of the suffering of the Jewish people. March of the Living seemed like the perfect opportunity to turn the facts into a tangible reality.

As young Australian teenagers, we have so far lived sheltered and privileged lives and have not been exposed to true hatred or evil. MOTL teaches us about the detrimental and devastating effects of indifference, racism and baseless hatred. We felt it important to see the darkness of humanity and the evil human beings are ultimately capable of, so we could learn from the mistakes of the past. We can only hope that many more students choose to participate in programs such as March of the Living, so that genocides, like the Holocaust will always be remembered and will never ever happen again.