The old KGB headquarters in the Lithuanian capital, Vilnius, is a sinister place, full of ghosts. It is a solid 19th-century neoclassical building with walls thick enough to have muffled the screams of those under interrogation. The cells in the basement are as cold and damp as they were in Soviet times and there are stone steps down to an airless, claustrophobic chamber where prisoners were executed, a thousand of them, the wall still pock-marked with bullet holes. You can imagine people hurrying by on the other side of the road in the old days, not daring to look up at the pale grey façade, knowing what took place behind it.
The building now houses Lithuania’s Museum of Genocide Victims, a monument to the one third of the country’s population killed or deported to Siberia during the-Soviet occupation. Lithuanian army recruits are taken there just as Israeli conscripts make a ritual visit to the Holocaust-museum near Jerusalem.
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