June 1941.

Hitler’s armies stormed into the Soviet Union.

From the Baltic Sea to the Black Sea, the largest invasion in human history was underway.

But behind the advancing German troops came another force.

A force whose mission was not military victory.

It was mass murder.

The men of Einsatzgruppe A followed closely behind the Wehrmacht.

Their orders were chillingly simple:

Find the Jews.

Find the communists.

Find anyone considered an enemy.

And eliminate them.

Within weeks, one Latvian city would become the scene of one of the most horrifying massacres of the Holocaust.

THE CITY MARKED FOR DEATH

The coastal city of Liepāja was strategically important to Nazi Germany.

It possessed a major naval base and occupied a crucial position on the Baltic coast.

German authorities wanted complete control.

And they believed the city was filled with enemies.

Soon after German forces arrived, the arrests began.

Jewish families disappeared.

Communists vanished.

People were dragged from their homes and never seen again.

THE KILLING STARTS IMMEDIATELY

Even before German control was fully established, executions had already begun.

In nearby Grobiņa, Jewish civilians were murdered during the very first days of the invasion.

Across the region, German soldiers rounded up Jewish men and shot them beside roads, fields, and bomb craters.

The killings were random at first.

Soon they became systematic.

THE CITY BECOMES A DEATH TRAP

After German forces captured Liepāja on June 29, 1941, mass executions escalated dramatically.

Soviet defensive trenches in Rainis Park were transformed into killing pits.

Hundreds of victims were marched there.

Shot.

Buried.

Then covered by the bodies of the next group.

At the same time, anti-Jewish restrictions appeared everywhere.

Jews were forced to wear yellow stars.

Their businesses were marked.

Their property was confiscated.

Their movements were restricted.

Humiliation became law.

Murder soon followed.

THE COMMANDER ACCUSED OF NOT KILLING FAST ENOUGH

The violence intensified under German commanders overseeing the city.

One officer, Erhard Grauel, ordered hostage executions and mass shootings.

Yet even he was criticized by his superior.

The accusation?

He was not killing people quickly enough.

Soon larger massacres followed.

And even more ruthless leaders took control.

THE LATVIAN COLLABORATORS

The Germans were not alone.

The notorious Arājs Kommando arrived to assist.

Working alongside the SS, the unit helped carry out mass executions.

In only two days, approximately 900 Jews were murdered.

The machinery of death was operating at full speed.

THE MASSACRE AT ŠĶĒDE

Then came December 1941.

The deadliest chapter of all.

A notice appeared ordering Jews to remain in their homes.

Many had no idea it was effectively a death sentence.

That night, arrests began.

Men.

Women.

Children.

Entire families.

They were packed into prison courtyards before being marched to the dunes of Šķēde.

Waiting for them was a massive trench over 100 meters long.

THE WALK TO THE PIT

At dawn, the victims were forced into a barn near the beach.

There they were ordered to undress.

Anyone who hesitated was beaten.

Whipped.

Dragged forward.

Groups of ten were marched to the edge of the trench.

Shots rang out.

Bodies collapsed.

Then another group was brought forward.

And another.

And another.

THREE DAYS OF SLAUGHTER

The killing continued for three days.

German executioners walked along the trench firing finishing shots into the wounded.

Collaborators kicked bodies into the pit.

Children died beside their mothers.

Entire families vanished together.

By the evening of December 17, 1941:

• 2,731 Jews had been murdered
• 23 communists had been executed

All in a matter of days.

THE HORROR CAPTURED ON CAMERA

Unlike many Holocaust atrocities, the killings at Šķēde were photographed.

Images captured the final moments of victims standing before the trench.

Women clutching children.

Families awaiting execution.

Human beings only seconds from death.

Those photographs would later become some of the most powerful evidence of Nazi crimes.

AN ENTIRE COMMUNITY ERASED

Before the German invasion, approximately 5,700 Jews lived in Liepāja.

By June 1942, only around 814 remained alive.

Most had been murdered.

The survivors were confined to a small ghetto and forced into hard labor.

Starvation.

Disease.

Exhaustion.

Death remained constant companions.

By October 1943, even the ghetto was liquidated.

The last remaining Jews were deported.

Only a handful survived the war.

THE NAZIS TRY TO ERASE THE EVIDENCE

As Germany began losing the war, officials attempted to hide their crimes.

Bodies were exhumed.

Chemicals were poured onto remains.

Evidence was destroyed wherever possible.

But they could not erase everything.

Photographs survived.

Film footage survived.

Witnesses survived.

The truth survived.

THE KILLERS ARE HUNTED DOWN

When the war ended, investigators began tracking those responsible.

Some escaped justice.

Others did not.

Franz Walter Stahlecker, one of the chief architects of mass murder in the Baltic region, was killed by Soviet partisans in 1942.

Fritz Dietrich was captured after the war, convicted, and hanged in 1948.

Wolfgang Kügler initially escaped severe punishment, but when new evidence emerged, he was arrested again. Before facing trial, he committed suicide in prison.

Hans Baumgartner was sentenced to death and executed by firing squad in 1971 after his role in thousands of murders was established.

Even collaborators faced judgment.

Viktors Arājs received a life sentence and died behind bars. Soviet courts sentenced dozens of his subordinates to death.

THE CITY THAT REMEMBERS

When Soviet troops liberated Liepāja in May 1945, only about twenty Jews remained in the city.

An entire community had been virtually annihilated.

Today, memorials stand near the dunes of Šķēde.

Visitors walk across quiet sand where thousands were murdered.

The photographs taken during the massacre remain among the most haunting images of the Holocaust.

They serve as a permanent reminder of what happened when hatred became government policy, when neighbors became targets, and when an entire community was nearly erased from existence by Nazi Germany and its collaborators.