Pflegeheim Saalow
Nursing horrors in the DDR
A retirement and nursing home fades into the forgotten mists of time and world leaders who should have retired years ago wreak havoc upon the world.
If only we could shove them into Pflegeheim Saalow and watch it crumble down around them! Even that would be far too good for some of them.
Anyone visiting this DDR-era nursing home now automatically gets a peace prize – one of the serene and quiet variety, not the gaudy glittering type preferred by some.
The Maxim-Zetkin-Pflegeheim, to give it its full title, used to be the last stop in life for so many of both Germanies’ oldest citizens, and the disabled, infirm, or mentally ill.
It had its own graveyard, and a pulley under the now-abandoned church so the corpses could be lowered underneath. It’s possible to lie on the slab today if you fancy a nap. Just make sure you wake up again. Many didn’t.
According to an article from Taz in December 1990, not long after Mauerfall, the staff here used to say, "For the people who come to us, there’s no going back.”
Some 600 people lived here at the time, each in a room five meters by two, with a bed, a bedside table and “perhaps a quarter of a table,” Taz reported.
Now, I don’t know if they cut tables in four to save money, but the quarter-tables can’t have been much use with just one leg. But don’t listen to me, spoiled from a country with four-legged tables.
Despite all that, East German authorities believed Pflegeheim Saalow “to be a showcase of the exemplary treatment by the socialist state of its vulnerable members.”
Yet apparently the architects forgot about rainwater drainage. Taz said water was still leaking through the roofs of the complex in 1990, when it described horrific conditions there.
“The stench of medicine and human excrement lingers in your hair and nose for days after a visit, and the image simply won’t leave your eyes, the image of the women, half-naked and rocking in their beds, smearing themselves with feces while, just a meter away, their neighbors spoon up their lunch. The nursing staff's verdict remains as an unchangeable fate: ‘No one ever gets out of Saalow.’”
Barracks were in overcrowded wooden buildings each with 60 bed-ridden people who wouldn’t have been able to flee in an emergency, The fire department warned in 1989 that if there was a fire, they would only be able to pull out the charred corpses.
When Taz visited, they found a severely disabled young woman named Tanja clinging to a radiator for warmth.
“It wasn’t that long ago that Tanja was in a straitjacket,” staff member Hans Bugaj told the newspaper. “It wasn’t malicious intent, but we simply didn’t have enough staff to keep the young people here active so they wouldn’t pull everything apart or run away from us.”
Pflegeheim Saalow remained a showcase, a model nursing home, because it was still better equipped than any other in East Germany.
“The home had to take in anyone, with no exceptions, whom family members or local communities could no longer cope with – the severely mentally and physically disabled, brain-damaged children, alcoholics. But most were brought to this home for one reason only – because they were old, and there was, and still is, no other alternative for the elderly in the entire district,” Taz reported.
There were up to 800 unfortunates crammed into the home at its peak.
“And when someone died,” Sister Bärbel recalled, “the bed didn't go cold. The next one arrived right away.”
It all started in Saalow after the war, as so many things did, when a retirement home was established on the grounds of a former flying school in 1945. No doubt there was plenty of demand at the time. The first permanent buildings were constructed in the 1960s, according to Taz, but there are evidently older buildings with a more Nazi vibe on the site too.
Taz noted that Pflegeheim Saalow’s medical chief in 1990 was Dr. Renate Messerschmidt, yet the leftwing paper did not ask about any link between her and the former flying school. No doubt there had been loads of Messerschmidts flying about the place during the war. Are we really to believe they all just left when the geriatrics started moving in?
I couldn’t find much information on the flying school, but apparently there was a barrage balloon unit of the Luftwaffe training at the site since 1936.
Saalow is quite close to Wünsdorf, where the Germans had their army and air force headquarters during the war. It’s south of Rangsdorf, where Schenk Graf von Stauffenberg flew to end the war, just north of Kummersdorf, an army testing site, and northwest of Jüterbog, which was stuffed with army camps and an airfield. At heart through – behind all the guns, bombs and manic urge to kill – Germans are really a peaceful people.
Well, according to Wikipedia, which is about as trustworthy as your average AI chatbollocks, the barrage balloon unit was converted to a medical hospital with a training unit for medical personnel toward the end of the war – apparently it wasn’t going so well.
It didn’t end so well either. Altogether 1,033 German soldiers and refugees are buried in the neighboring cemetery after dying in the war’s final days or in the immediate years that followed. The soldiers’ barracks were used to house refugees arriving from former German territories turned Ausland in the aftermath of the war.
Don’t let anyone tell you war is good or necessary, kids. Even if warmongers give them cool names like “Operation Epic Fury” or “Operation Lion’s Roar,” they never end well. Hitler and his cronies also had a cool name, “Fall Weiß” (Case White), for the invasion of Poland, though it admittedly isn’t as cool as the Americans’ recent “Operation Midnight Hammer” to kidnap the president of Venezuela, or “Operation Absolute Resolve” when it bombed Iran the last time.
Absolute resolve closed the Maxim-Zetkin-Pflegeheim once the new reunited Germany decided its horrors were too horrible. The German Red Cross now operates its replacement, “Seniorenbetreuungseinrichtung Saalower Berg,” where you hope the residents are much better treated than they were before.
Location and access (How to find guide)
What: Maxim-Zetkin-Pflegeheim. An East German nursing and retirement home on the site of a former Luftwaffe barrage balloon training camp.
Where: Horstweg Saalow 1, 15838 Am Mellensee, Germanu.
How to get there: Hop on a train to Zossen, and either cycle 9.5 kilometers, or hop on a train to Wünsdorf and get the 706 bus to Saalow, Berg. Here it is on a map.
Getting in: Just stroll past the new nursing home – make sure to wave hello to the residents, they’d love a bit of excitement too – and turn off to your right.
When to go: Daytime is best for exploring, nighttime if you want to have a party. There have been cellar parties here already.
Difficulty rating: 2/10. Very easy.
Who to bring: Bring your boyfriend/girlfriend if decrepit buildings with horrific histories are your thing, or your friends for a party to right the wrongs of the past.
What to bring: Bring some beers or refreshments as there are no Spätis in Saalow. It’s a good idea to bring something to nibble on too. Bring a camera for taking photos and a torch for exploring cellars.
Dangers: Some floors are not stable, and if you go climbing ladders in the power station building, the heights are quite high. Just be careful. There’s no security so that’s a plus.
Many thanks to the overworked Mark Rodden for proof reading once again – if you find any mistakes, they’re his fault! Seriously though, let us know in the comments below.
Vielen Dank also to Restless Rudi for the tip! You’ll be able to read about Rudi’s adventures on the Abandoned Berlin site soon enough. They’re not restricted to abandoned buildings but encompass any sites abandoned or not that are quirky enough to be of interest to you, dear reader.
Disclaimer – As always, the use of “I” or “me” in the text above does not refer to any persons living or dead who may be sued or prosecuted for writing things that may or may not have happened. I is merely the letter after H, and me could just as well be you. Be careful what you wish for.
Filed 2/3/2026
