94 Man's Search for Meaning
moved me to tears at that time. It was the human "some
thing" which this man also gave to me—the word and look
which accompanied the gift.
From all this we may learn that there are two races of
men in this world, but only these two—the "race" of the
decent man and the "race" of the indecent man. Both are
found everywhere; they penetrate into all groups of society.
No group consists entirely of decent or indecent people. In
this sense, no group is of "pure race"—and therefore one
occasionally found a decent fellow among the camp guards.
Life in a concentration camp tore open the human soul
and exposed its depths. Is it surprising that in those depths
we again found only human qualities which in their very
nature were a mixture of good and evil? The rift dividing
good from evil, which goes through all human beings,
reaches into the lowest depths and becomes apparent even
on the bottom of the abyss which is laid open by the con
centration camp.
And now to the last chapter in the psychology of a con
centration camp—the psychology of the prisoner who has
been released. In describing the experiences of liberation,
which naturally must be personal, we shall pick up the
threads of that part of our narrative which told of the
morning when the white flag was hoisted above the camp
gates after days of high tension. This state of inner suspense
was followed by total relaxation. But it would be quite
wrong to think that we went mad with joy. What, then, did
happen?
With tired steps we prisoners dragged ourselves to the
camp gates. Timidly we looked around and glanced at each
other questioningly. Then we ventured a few steps out of
camp. This time no orders were shouted at us, nor was
there any need to duck quickly to avoid a blow or kick. Oh
Experiences in a Concentration Camp 95
no! This time the guards offered us cigarettesi We hardly
recognized them at first; they had hurriedly changed into
civilian clothes. We walked slowly along the road leading
from the camp. Soon our legs hurt and threatened to
buckle. But we limped on; we wanted to see the camp's
surroundings for the first time with the eyes of free men.
"Freedom"—we repeated to ourselves, and yet we could not
grasp it. We had said this word so often during all the years
we dreamed about it, that it had lost its meaning. Its reality
did not penetrate into our consciousness; we could not
grasp the fact that freedom was ours.
We came to meadows full of flowers. We saw and realized
that they were there, but we had no feelings about them.
The first spark of joy came when we saw a rooster with a
tail of multicolored feathers. But it remained only a spark;
we did not yet belong to this world.
In the evening when we all met again in our hut, one
said secretly to the other, "Tell me, were you pleased
today?"
And the other replied, feeling ashamed as he did not
know that we all felt similarly, "Truthfully, nol" We had
literally lost the ability to feel pleased and had to relearn it
slowly.
Psychologically, what was happening to the liberated
prisoners could be called "depersonalization." Everything
appeared unreal, unlikely, as in a dream. We could not
believe it was true. How often in the past years had we been
deceived by dreamsl We dreamt that the day of liberation
had come, that we had been set free, had returned home,
greeted our friends, embraced our wives, sat down at the
table and started to tell of all the things we had gone
through—even of how we had often seen the day of libera
tion in our dreams. And then—a whistle shrilled in our
96 Man's Search for Meaning
ears, the signal to get up, and our dreams of freedom came
to an end. And now the dream had come true. But could
we truly believe in it?
Experiences in a Concentration Camp 97
How long I knelt there and repeated this sentence mem
ory can no longer recall. But I know that on that day, in
that hour, my new life started. Step for step I progressed,
until I again became a human being.
The body has fewer inhibitions than the mind. It made
good use of the new freedom from the first moment on. It
began to eat ravenously, for hours and days, even half the
night. It is amazing what quantities one can eat. And when
one of the prisoners was invited out by a friendly farmer
in the neighborhood, he ate and ate and then drank coffee,
which loosened his tongue, and he then began to talk, often
for hours. The pressure which had been on his mind for
years was released at last. Hearing him talk, one got the
impression that he had to talk, that his desire to speak was
irresistible. I have known people who have been under heavy
pressure only for a short time (for example, through a cross-
examination by the Gestapo) to have similar reactions.
Many days passed, until not only the tongue was loosened,
but something within oneself as well; then feeling suddenly
broke through the strange fetters which had restrained it.
One day, a few days after the liberation, I walked
through the country past flowering meadows, for miles and
miles, toward the market town near the camp. Larks rose to
the sky and I could hear their joyous song. There was no
one to be seen for miles around; there was nothing but the
wide earth and sky and the larks' jubilation and the free
dom of space. I stopped, looked around, and up to the
sky—and then I went down on my knees. At that moment
there was very little I knew of myself or of the world—I had
but one sentence in mind—always the same: "I called to
the Lord from my narrow prison and He answered me in
the freedom of space."
The way that led from the acute mental tension of the
last days in camp (from that war of nerves to mental peace)
was certainly not free from obstacles. It would be an error
to think that a liberated prisoner was not in need of spir
itual care any more. We have to consider that a man who
has been under such enormous mental pressure for such a
long time is naturally in some danger after his liberation,
especially since the pressure was released quite suddenly.
This danger (in the sense of psychological hygiene) is the
psychological counterpart of the bends. Just as the physical
health of the caisson worker would be endangered if he left
his diver's chamber suddenly (where he is under enormous
atmospheric pressure), so the man who has suddenly been
liberated from mental pressure can suffer damage to his
moral and spiritual health.
During this psychological phase one observed that people
with natures of a more primitive kind could not escape the
influences of the brutality which had surrounded them in
camp life. Now, being free, they thought they could use
their freedom licentiously and ruthlessly. The only thing
that had changed for them was that they were now the
oppressors instead of the oppressed. They became insti
gators, not objects, of willful force and injustice. They
justified their behavior by their own terrible experiences.
This was often revealed in apparently insignificant events.
A friend was walking across a field with me toward the
camp when suddenly we came to a field of green crops.
Automatically, I avoided it, but he drew his arm through
mine and dragged me through it. I stammered something