After he left Dachau, Rachel promised himself that some day he’d go to Jerusalem to visit the Holocaust memorial of Yad Vashem. He wrote: ‘The victims are in the camps, their dust, their ashes mingled with German soil and Polish soil for all eternity – it is here that I need to ask for forgiveness, here in front of the gas chambers, in front of the Krema, where my father took their lives. But at Yad Vashem I can put a name to every victim. It is important to say aloud the names of those who, to my father, were nothing more than a yellow star and a number branded on their flesh.’

He never went to Jerusalem, to Yad Vashem. If I have the money some day, I’ll make the journey for him. And for me. I’ll read the names aloud and, after every one, I’ll ask their forgiveness in my father’s name.