I first heard about Buchenwald before I started kindergarten. My parents were talking in the living room late at night and they didn't realize I was in the hallway listening. My uncle was the Army photographer (in the Signal Corps) who accompanied the troops as they liberated Buchenwald. This film, for all of it's merits, seems like a whitewash. It didn't even scratch the surface of the horrors of Buchenwald. When the troops arrived there were human beings, still alive though just skin and bones, stacked like cordwood (i.e. layer upon layer of human beings, stacked in alternating directions). Not just one stack, there were many, many stacks lined up and prepared to be moved into the ovens. When he visited the home of the camp commander he photographed lamps with shades made from human skin, skin with tattoos. My father spoke of drums using human skin. There were other things. These images have polluted my mind from my youngest years. I barely knew what tattoos were...only because of Popeye the Sailor man, and when the drums were mentioned, I had the image of bongo drums because I heard these things in '61 or'62 and bongo drums were all the rage. I remember these things though I just heard them once. My uncle's photographs are in the Library of Congress. He never took another photograph in his life, never smiled, never visited the mountains, never visited the snow, and never spoke of what he had witnessed except once in 1961 or '62 in a special meeting with his father, his brothers, and his brother in law. The film is a good story, but the scenes of the camp and the prisoners seem like a Sunday picnic versus the reality. It felt more like history was being covered up than illuminated by this film.
