On a marrow-chilling, wind-blasted day, I took the S-Bahn and bus to the Dachau Concentration Camp Memorial Site. A tremendous way to learn about the ineffable reality of the place. In the museum, I learned about the many groups singled out for imprisonment, torture, and death, or all three -- political prisoners from Yugoslavia, for example.
Wind savaged my umbrella, which flapped like a kite. Rain and hail fell viciously on the assembly ground and before the
barracks, but a sliver of sunlight appeared as I left the grounds.