Spandau Prison

I witnessed Spandau Prison, at the time located in West Berlin, during a helicopter tour of the city in 1986. Rudolf Hess was the lone prisoner and unbeknownst to me or anyone else at the time, he had a year to live -- and the demise of the prison would soon follow as well.

After his death, Spandau Prison was demolished as a means to prevent it from becoming a Neo-Nazi shrine. But the West Germans did not stop there. To further ensure its erasure, the site was made into a parking facility and a shopping center, and all materials from the demolished prison were ground to powder and dispersed into the North Sea.

I'm a bit sad -- it was a magnificent structure, even as a prison. Built in 1876, it initially served as a military detention center and later housed civilian inmates. After the Second World War, it was administered by the Allies to house Nazi war criminals after the Nuremberg Trials -- the seven which had escaped the death penalty.

Ultimately, Spandau Prison itself could not escape its association with its Nazi past. Erased.

Zeughaus

Graz. If this name sounds familiar, you must either have visited Austria’s second largest city or you know that Arnold Schwarzenegger is one of Graz’s more famous sons. Or perhaps you may recall that its football stadium was once named after him. Once. That was until the city's assembly condemned the California governor's refusal to grant clemency and halt the execution of a convicted murderer. Literally overnight, they had the large letters spelling his name pulled from the arena. Capital punishment is illegal in Austria. Am I sensing a degree of passion -- or testosterone? Governor Schwarzenegger subsequently returned by post the honorary ring the city had presented to him. Now, now.

For many other and better reasons, Graz is unique. Its old town is one of the best-preserved city centers in Europe -- it somehow avoided the mass destruction of Allied bombing raids during the Second World War. This is most fortunate since Graz had been the resident city of the younger Austrian line of the Habsburgs, beginning in the 14th century. They lived in Schloßberg castle and from there ruled Styria, Carinthia, portions of Italy and Slovenia. Later, Italian Renaissance artists and architects contributed to the city's planning and design. Located between Italy, the Balkan States, with Central Europe to the north, Graz over time absorbed various influences from these neighboring areas -- from Gothic to Modern.

Graz is situated in the Austrian federal state of Styria (Steiermark). The older German interpretation of the word mark literally refers to an area of land utilized as a defensive frontier. In these areas the local population was trained to organize and fight against invaders. Given its location, Graz was often assaulted -- by the Hungarians (1481) and the Ottoman Turks (1529, 1532). Unsuccessfully, mind you. In fact, its fortress was one of only two fortifications in the region which never fell to the Turks. The city also withstood two occupations by Napoleon's army (1797, 1809). Ironically, though the Austrian forces within Schloßberg were outnumbered and repelled numerous attacks by the French, their emperor, Francis I, ordered their surrender after Napoleon overwhelmed Vienna. Unfortunately, the Treaty of Schönbrunn (1809) imposed harsh terms on Austria, to include the destruction of Vienna’s and Graz’s fortifications. Schloßberg was demolished; though its Uhrturm clock tower was spared by ransom.

Naturally then, Graz is home to the region's provincial armory, the Landeszeughaus. The strategic importance of Graz required its armory to be a vital arsenal for the Habsburg Empire on its south-eastern flank. Completed in 1645, its Baroque entrance is guarded by Mars (god of war) and Minerva (goddess of war). The Landeszeughaus now houses an impressive collection of pikes, pistols, rifles, swords, coats of mail, and various forms of armor.

When I wandered through the Landeszeughaus, exploring the world's largest historical collection of Baroque weaponry, I literally stepped back in time. The armory consists of five floors, with different types of military hardware arranged by historical period. I was struck by the armory’s pristine state of preparedness -- it was as if it was still standing ready to outfit an entire medieval militia, mustering to oppose an imminent invasion. I also noticed that most of the armor appeared to have small battle scars or dents. A curator pointed out that they were not marks left by conflict, but were “tests” to insure the proper strength of the metal. Aha -- medieval armor making was an exacting life or death craft.

There are certain situations in which we must erase all doubt.

The Landeszeughaus also has a few of the last surviving sets of horse body armor. I was captivated. I had to touch, feel -- with the requisite protective gloves on, of course. But I could not stop there. Blades, swords. Several of the swords I handled, to include a long two-handed sword, or Zweihänder, were amazingly light to wield. The Zweihänder was apparently used by specialized swordsmen to reach beyond the front line spears, hewing through the difficult barriers which spearmen and pikemen presented. My mind drifted into visions of charging brigades, brandished swords, flanking cavalry -- the chaos of swift deadly thrusts, slices, cuts.

Brutal. Blood, sweat and tears.

I'm pleased that we've seemingly progressed. But I can't help but wonder if we've become oblivious to the cost of employing lethal force -- even in defense. Penetrating and blunt force trauma. Devastation -- pestilence occupies the ensuing void. Mortal combat has always been horrific. History becomes legend, then myth -- and we forget. But what if we're ignorant of history in the first place?

The Landeszeughaus is history.