Westerplatte, Poland
I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that Poland has a lot of history. From being the largest country in Europe in the 16th century, to hundreds of years of partitions between the surrounding powers and the horrors of the 20th century. One of the most significant places in all of this was the city of Gdańsk, on the Baltic coast.
Over the centuries, the city swapped hands between the Teutonic knights, Poland, Prussia and Germany before becoming a free city after the First World War. Despite the majority German population, Poland had access to the port, the post office and a small military depot on the peninsula of Westerplatte. The Poles had to prepare for war in secret as their military depot was in full view of the German positions. Somehow they managed to silently cut down trees and construct defensive positions at night without being noticed. When the attack finally came, the small force held out heroically for a week before inevitably capitulating.
Now, Westerplatte is an open air museum and the windswept peninsula feels appropriately bleak. The gutted remains of the guardhouses are still there, and a large Soviet-style memorial was built in 1966. It feels very removed from the nearby city and the rest of the world, which feels perfect for this place.
