Nick Casey

When you think of Europe, you probably think of a museum you went to on vacation or a beautiful bridge that you crossed on the Seine. You probably don't think of it as a place where you're stepping over killing fields. And yet, that's also what Europe is. It's a vast cemetery. Think of all the wars that have taken place, the last two world wars being the most devastating.

When you think of Europe, you probably think of a museum you went to on vacation or a beautiful bridge that you crossed on the Seine. You probably don't think of it as a place where you're stepping over killing fields. And yet, that's also what Europe is. It's a vast cemetery. Think of all the wars that have taken place, the last two world wars being the most devastating.

those wars left the bones of millions of people scattered across the continent. Today, tens of thousands of bodies are still being discovered in Europe every year. They're being found in people's backyards when they plant a garden, by excavators digging out basements, and alongside freeways. It's the history of war and fascism, two ideas that have become very relevant today.

those wars left the bones of millions of people scattered across the continent. Today, tens of thousands of bodies are still being discovered in Europe every year. They're being found in people's backyards when they plant a garden, by excavators digging out basements, and alongside freeways. It's the history of war and fascism, two ideas that have become very relevant today.

So what happens to these bones when someone finds them? What does it mean to go looking for them? And what happens when the bones belong to Nazis? My name is Nick Casey. I'm a staff writer at the New York Times Magazine, based in Madrid. Sometime back, I was reading headlines in France, and I came across a story about a man named Edmond Ravet.

So what happens to these bones when someone finds them? What does it mean to go looking for them? And what happens when the bones belong to Nazis? My name is Nick Casey. I'm a staff writer at the New York Times Magazine, based in Madrid. Sometime back, I was reading headlines in France, and I came across a story about a man named Edmond Ravet.

At 98 years old, he'd gone to his local newspaper to make a confession. At the end of World War II, when he was a French resistance soldier, he said his squad captured a group of 47 German soldiers, but they never brought them to a POW camp. They took them instead to the woods, had them dig their own graves, and then executed them.

At 98 years old, he'd gone to his local newspaper to make a confession. At the end of World War II, when he was a French resistance soldier, he said his squad captured a group of 47 German soldiers, but they never brought them to a POW camp. They took them instead to the woods, had them dig their own graves, and then executed them.

At the end of his life, Reveille wanted to set the record straight, and he said he knew exactly where the bones were. So who do you go to after this kind of revelation? I soon learned that there's a private organization in Germany whose mission is to go looking for those bones.

At the end of his life, Reveille wanted to set the record straight, and he said he knew exactly where the bones were. So who do you go to after this kind of revelation? I soon learned that there's a private organization in Germany whose mission is to go looking for those bones.

They're called the Volksbund, and for more than a century, they've been trying to find the bones of every German who died during the World Wars, even the Nazis, so they can give them a proper burial. When I first heard about its mission, it raised so many questions for me, like, what does it mean to go looking for the bones of war criminals? What kind of controversy does that cause?

They're called the Volksbund, and for more than a century, they've been trying to find the bones of every German who died during the World Wars, even the Nazis, so they can give them a proper burial. When I first heard about its mission, it raised so many questions for me, like, what does it mean to go looking for the bones of war criminals? What kind of controversy does that cause?

The Volksbühne is a pretty low-profile group, but they found new forms of support from people on the German right. And once I started talking to the group, they started telling me about dig sites that they were working on in Lithuania and Poland. At this point, they told me they're digging about 12,000 Germans out of the ground every year. Decades ago, it was more like 25,000.

The Volksbühne is a pretty low-profile group, but they found new forms of support from people on the German right. And once I started talking to the group, they started telling me about dig sites that they were working on in Lithuania and Poland. At this point, they told me they're digging about 12,000 Germans out of the ground every year. Decades ago, it was more like 25,000.

These numbers really shocked me. And for this week's Sunday Read, I wanted to understand what they mean right now. so I followed the Volksbund out to one of their dig sites in Hungary last year. We drove to a town south of Budapest, near the border of Serbia, where this mass grave was discovered containing close to a thousand bodies of German and Hungarian soldiers.

These numbers really shocked me. And for this week's Sunday Read, I wanted to understand what they mean right now. so I followed the Volksbund out to one of their dig sites in Hungary last year. We drove to a town south of Budapest, near the border of Serbia, where this mass grave was discovered containing close to a thousand bodies of German and Hungarian soldiers.

We pulled up to an empty lot on the edge of the road, and I saw an excavator had dug up a ramp about 10 feet deep into this very sandy earth. And at the end of the ramp, you could see a wall of human bones that went up so high, almost to the surface. In front of me was a complete jumble of bones. Leg bones, arm bones, multiple skulls with tree roots coming out of them.

We pulled up to an empty lot on the edge of the road, and I saw an excavator had dug up a ramp about 10 feet deep into this very sandy earth. And at the end of the ramp, you could see a wall of human bones that went up so high, almost to the surface. In front of me was a complete jumble of bones. Leg bones, arm bones, multiple skulls with tree roots coming out of them.

There was no way to even tell what the individual skeletons were at that point. I watched the Hungarian soldiers who were assisting the Volksbühne as they took out paintbrushes and worked very slowly and methodically to brush sand, dirt, and roots off of the bones. They tried to arrange the skeletons together in bags, one skull, two femurs, one set of hips.

There was no way to even tell what the individual skeletons were at that point. I watched the Hungarian soldiers who were assisting the Volksbühne as they took out paintbrushes and worked very slowly and methodically to brush sand, dirt, and roots off of the bones. They tried to arrange the skeletons together in bags, one skull, two femurs, one set of hips.