There is one Jewish memorial in Konin, though it is extremly hard to find. It is in the large Catholic cemetery that spreads across a steep hillside above the road to Kolo: a peaceful place, close to an old Franciscan church and monastry. Mature chestnut trees shade the well-tended graves, the simple marble crosses and extravagant family tombs. Candles flicker amid bunches of newly laid flowers. There are manyreminders of war: monuments to soldiers who fell in battle, and civilians who were "innocent victims of the Nazi terror".

An old man told us where the Jews were buried. He pointed to a path leading to the upper boundary of the cemetery where, among crosses and holy statues, we found a solitary Star of david, engraved on a simple tombstone. This is where Jewish prisoners from the labour camp - the House of Bondage" near Konin's railway station at Czarkow were interred. By the time of their deaths the Jewish cemetery was already in ruins.

Rabbi Aaronson recorded in his diary:

There a pit was dug, about twenty meters long and two meters wide. Into this pit were placed all the dead and the killed, who had previously been buried separately on a hill opposite. The work was hard as well as saddeningly painful, the more so as it was carried out under the supervision of an armed guard, who obliged the Jews to labour to the end of their strength. With his watch in hand, he allowed five minutes for the removal of each corpse to the new place. He would not allow a single minute to be spent on taking a look at the bodies of the martyrs. This was the method of removal: the bodies were lifted by garden forks poked into the eyeholes or the skull or body. Then lime was thrown onto each body before it was thrust into the pit. Those who carried out this work included relatives of the dead. They were forbidden to take the bottles containing details of each of the dead. I did manage to throw a few of these bottles into the pit without the guard noticing, but most of these bottles remained where I had first put them - though the dead, to whom they refer, do not lie there."

The memorial marking the mass grave where we stood bore the inscription: "TO THE JEWS ABOMINABLY MURDERED BY THE NAZI OPRESSORS IN THE CAMP IN CZARKOW IN THE YEARS 1941-43. Compatriots, Konin XI 1945." Thick clusters of marigolds not yet in bloom filled the long rectangular space. The grave was well cared for, and so it was a pity that the ground next to it was used as a dumping-place for rotting leaves, broken glass and litter.