Ort ohne Erinnerung

Kaisersteinbruch, an unassuming town in eastern Austria. You drive past a wall. A poster promotes “Our Army.” A sign reads “Military Restricted Area. Risk of Death.” One wouldn’t immediately think of one of the German Empire’s largest prisoner-of-war camps, which was located here. The complex and tragic past stretches from the imperial quarries, whose stones were used to build castles and palaces, through the camps of the world wars, all the way to the present. It lies underground, as scattered wall remnants, fences, and buildings show, covered by a new history that does not erase the old one—a place languishing in obscurity, struggling to survive. People don’t talk much about it. Nor do they speak of the fact that soldiers from eighteen different nations were imprisoned here, many of whom perished or were murdered. Even today, their descendants regularly search for remains and visit the cemetery of the former camp. And what became of the women who had relationships with French prisoners of war? And what of the children born of those relationships? If these relationships were discovered, it meant the women would end up in prison or concentration camps. These family secrets persist to this day and weigh heavily on those affected. For the town’s residents, the film raises the question of how history is transformed or erased and how it shapes everyday life.