American troops liberated Dachau concentration camp 70 years ago Wednesday. Scores of survivors and World War II veterans are gathering there to commemorate the event, the biggest ceremony of which will be on Sunday.

Located in a wooded patch north of Munich, Dachau opened in 1933 as the Nazis' first concentration camp, not long after Adolf Hitler came to power.

The original plan was to house 5,000 political prisoners there, but SS leader Heinrich Himmler extended Dachau's mandate to forced labor, the imprisonment of Jews and warehousing prisoners of war. The camp ended up including nearly 100 satellite facilities, which were mostly work camps.

A Survivor Who Stayed

Max Mannheimer was stricken with typhus and weighed maybe 100 pounds when he was rescued from one of these work camps, an ordeal he barely survived.

The 95-year-old author and artist says Dachau was less evil than other camps he experienced. His first wife, Eva, his parents and all but two siblings were gassed at Auschwitz. He still bears the serial number tattooed by a Roma prisoner onto his arm at Birkenau — 99728.

Mannheimer says his younger brother and only surviving sibling, Edgar, oozed optimism when they arrived at Dachau in August 1944, even though many of the 90 people with whom they were crammed into a box car were crushed to death during the nine-day journey there.

"He said you will see the Americans are so close, the Russians are so close. In two months we'll be free," Mannheimer recalls.

But the deliverance took nine months, during which he was pushed to his physical and mental limits. One of his last camp details was to haul away the corpses of fellow prisoners.

Most camp survivors left Germany as quickly as they could. But not Mannheimer, who settled near Munich at the request of a German Resistance fighter — who later became his wife.

"She was a heroine. I fell in love — that happens sometimes — and she assured me that Germany would become a democracy after all that had happened here," he says. "And I believed her."

For the past 30 years, Mannheimer says, he has tried to strengthen that democracy by speaking to German schoolchildren and church groups about the Holocaust. He's also expected to speak at the Dachau ceremony Sunday.

A Survivor, Returning With Dread

Wolf Prensky, a fellow prisoner, returned to Dachau earlier this week. It's a trip he has made only a few times in the past 70 years.

The SS sent a teenage Prensky to a Dachau sub camp in 1944. His only relative there was an uncle, Oscar Jason, who was a kapo, one of the hated concentration camp prisoners assigned by the SS to keep other prisoners in line.

Prensky, now 85 and a retired scientist who lives in Germantown, Md., says he wouldn't have survived without his uncle.

"He lost his whole family," Prensky says, fighting back the tears.

Prensky says his uncle provided him with rare medicine when he developed meningitis after he got a rifle butt to the head in April 1945.

"I was in the infirmary, but it wasn't safe for me to be in the infirmary very long, because in our camp it was a work camp," Prensky recalls. "If you are in infirmary for more than five days, they put you in another camp where you were left to die."

He looked pensive and oblivious to the rain drenching his cap as he entered the gate at Dachau. Prensky sums up what he feels being here in one word — dread.

"The place hasn't changed," he says.

He recalls being marched with other prisoners to the main camp at Dachau from his labor camp to evade the advancing U.S. forces.

"Later on, we found out they were taking us further south to kill us," Prensky says.

He and a few dozen others eventually ended up in a large building in the hamlet of Bad Toelz, when the Americans stumbled upon them and they were finally free.

The Liberators

Those streaming to Dachau this week aren't just the survivors. They are the liberators too. Among them are American World War II veterans such as Hilbert Margol, 91, of Dunwoody, Ga., and Frank Burns, 91, of Seattle.

Burns went back to the camp for the first time since 1945 this week. It will also be Margol's first time in 70 years when he visits the site in the coming days.

Burns was a high school senior in Honolulu when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. He was drafted in April 1944 and ended up in France roughly four months later. He later joined the 42nd Infantry (Rainbow) Division and says he was soon part of a long march into Germany.

On April 29, 1945, his unit was approaching Munich ahead of what was a general attack planned to take the concentration camp. But the German forces had left before the Americans arrived, Burns says, so they just "roamed around the area."

He says they talked with British POWs but no U.S. ones. German civilians in the area also said they had no idea what the concentration camp really was. Burns was incredulous.

"We thought they should at least have smelled the crematorium," he says, adding he has found out since that "crematoriums don't emit the same smell as people killed in combat."

The smell is also something seared into his and his twin brother Howard's memory, says Hilbert Margol. They, like Burns, were with the 42nd Infantry Division.

Their unit's objective on April 29, 1945, was Munich, when they were ordered to pull over to the side of the road, set up their howitzers and fire a few rounds in the city's direction, Margol says.

Suddenly, "everyone noticed a strange odor in the air, a very strong odor," he recalls. "One of our jeep drivers came by and said it must be a chemical factory."

But his brother said it smelled more like when his mother would hold freshly killed chicken over the gas flame in the kitchen to burn off the pinfeathers. The twins decided to go into the woods to investigate.

"The first thing we saw was a line of railway boxcars," he says. "We looked in one of the boxcars and there were just bodies strewn around inside."

They took pictures of the horrors they saw, some of which now hang in the U.S. Holocaust Museum. But Margol says it took years for the gravity of what had happened at concentration camps like Dachau under the Nazi regime to sink in.

Copyright 2015 NPR. To see more, visit http://www.npr.org/.

Transcript

RENEE MONTAGNE, HOST:

The name Dachau still generates a sense of horror - 70 years ago, after the German concentration camp was liberated by American troops. Those who first encountered each other on this day in 1945 - survivors of the camp and U.S. Army veterans - are gathering at the site on the outskirts of Munich for a commemoration ceremony this weekend. NPR's Soraya Sarhaddi Nelson met with two survivors who reflected on their experiences at the Nazi's first concentration camp.

SORAYA SARHADDI NELSON, BYLINE: Wolf Prensky looks grim as he enters the sprawling Dachau memorial site, oblivious to the rain soaking his cap. The 85-year-old sums up how it feels to be back here in one word.

WOLF PRENSKY: Dread. The place hasn't changed.

NELSON: He is a retired scientist from Germantown, Md. But seven decades ago, Prensky was one of thousands of Jewish prisoners herded by the SS to Dachau's large, open square called Appellplatz during the camp's final week of operation.

PRENSKY: We were in a crowd. We were a lot of people - at the same time, very alone, very, very isolated from anybody.

NELSON: Not that he felt much like talking to anyone, as Prensky was deathly ill with meningitis at the time. He says he got sick after receiving a rifle butt to the head at one of Dachau's satellite camps.

PRENSKY: It was not safe for me to be in infirmary very long because in our camp, it was a work camp. If you were in the infirmary more than five days, they took you out and put you in another camp where you just were left to die.

NELSON: His uncle, Oskar Jason, who was a hated kapo, assigned by the SS to keep other prisoners in line, took care of him, even though compassion was something no prisoner could afford.

PRENSKY: He saved us all. And he lost his own family.

NELSON: Prensky also tried showing kindness at their Dachau sub-camp when he was 14. He invited a group of freezing prisoners to warm up next to the fire he was assigned to stoke. But afraid he would get caught, he soon asked the men to leave. They refused, so he pushed them.

PRENSKY: And it was like pushing a bunch of weeds out the door. They had no strength, and I was surprised that I could do that. Five men - grown men - that incident actually taught me an awful lot about who we were over there.

NELSON: It was important not to draw attention to yourself, says fellow prisoner and Holocaust survivor Max Mannheimer. Dachau was the last of a series of concentration camps he and his younger and only surviving brother, Edgar, were sent to. Most of their family was killed at Auschwitz.

MAX MANNHEIMER: (Speaking German).

NELSON: The 95-year-old author and artist recalls scores of people dying on the nine-day trip to Dachau that summer in 1944. He describes how many were crushed to death in the freight train.

MANNHEIMER: (Speaking German).

NELSON: Yet Mannheimer says his brother was optimistic when they finally arrived at Dachau. He says, "Edgar kept telling me the Americans are so near, the Soviets are so near. I prayed for deliverance under my blanket in the barracks." That deliverance didn't come for nine months, during which Mannheimer reached his physical and mental limits. Before he was stricken with typhus, one of his last assignments at the camp was to haul away the corpses of fellow prisoners. But unlike most camp survivors who left Germany as quickly as possible, Mannheimer married a German resistance fighter and settled near Dachau.

MANNHEIMER: (Speaking German).

NELSON: Mannheimer explains, "she was a hero when I fell in love with her. She convinced me that after all that happened here, Germany would become a democracy." Mannheimer says for the past 30 years, he's tried to strengthen that democracy by speaking to German schoolchildren about the Holocaust. Soraya Sarhaddi Nelson, NPR News, Dachau. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.

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