90 Man's Search
for Meaning
epidemic in the camp, I estimated my own chances at about
one in twenty. But I also told them that, in spite of this, I
had no intention of losing hope and giving up. For no man
knew what the future would bring, much less the next
hour. Even if we could not expect any sensational military
events in the next few days, who knew better than we, with
our experience of camps, how great chances sometimes
opened up, quite suddenly, at least for the individual. For
instance, one might be attached unexpectedly to a special
group with exceptionally good working conditions—for this
was the kind of thing which constituted the "luck" of the
prisoner.
But I did not only talk of the future and the veil which
was drawn over it. I also mentioned the past; all its joys,
and how its light shone even in the present darkness. Again
I quoted a poet—to avoid sounding like a preacher myself
—who had written, "Was Du erlebst, kann keine Macht der
Welt Dir rauben." (What you have experienced, no power
on earth can take from you.) Not only our experiences, but
all we have done, whatever great thoughts we may have
had, and all we have suffered, all this is not lost, though it
is past; we have brought it into being. Having been is also a
kind of being, and perhaps the surest kind.
Then I spoke of the many opportunities of giving life a
meaning. I told my comrades (who lay motionless, al
though occasionally a sigh could be heard) that human life,
under any circumstances, never ceases to have a meaning,
and that this infinite meaning of life includes suffering and
dying, privation and death. I asked the poor creatures who
listened to me attentively in the darkness of the hut to face
up to the seriousness of our position. They must not lose
hope but should keep their courage in the certainty that the
hopelessness of our struggle did not detract from its dignity
and its meaning. I said that someone looks down on each of
Experiences in a Concentration Camp 91
us in difficult hours—a friend, a wife, somebody alive or
dead, or a God—and he would not expect us to disappoint
him. He would hope to find us suffering proudly—not
miserably—knowing how to die.
And finally I spoke of our sacrifice, which had meaning
in every case. It was in the nature of this sacrifice that it
should appear to be pointless in the normal world, the
world of material success. But in reality our sacrifice did
have a meaning. Those of us who had any religious faith, I
said frankly, could understand without difficulty. I told
them of a comrade who on his arrival in camp had tried to
make a pact with Heaven that his suffering and death
should save the human being he loved from a painful end.
For this man, suffering and death were meaningful; his was
a sacrifice of the deepest significance. He did not want to
die for nothing. None of us wanted that.
The purpose of my words was to find a full meaning in
our life, then and there, in that hut and in that practically
hopeless situation. I saw that my efforts had been successful.
When the electric bulb flared up again, I saw the miserable
figures of my friends limping toward me to thank me with
tears in their eyes. But I have to confess here that only too
rarely had I the inner strength to make contact with my
companions in suffering and that I must have missed many
opportunities for doing so.
We now come to the third stage of a prisoner's mental
reactions: the psychology of the prisoner after his liberation.
But prior to that we shall consider a question which the
psychologist is asked frequently, especially when he has per
sonal knowledge of these matters: What can you tell us
about the psychological make-up of the camp guards? How
is it possible that men of flesh and blood could treat others
92 Man's Search for Meaning
as so many prisoners say they have been treated? Having
once heard these accounts and having come to believe that
these things did happen, one is bound to ask how, psycho
logically, they could happen. To answer this question with
out going into great detail, a few things must be pointed
out:
First, among the guards there were some sadists, sadists in
the purest clinical sense.
Second, these sadists were always selected when a really
severe detachment of guards was needed.
There was great joy at our work site when we had per
mission to warm ourselves for a few minutes (after two
hours of work in the bitter frost) in front of a little stove
which was fed with twigs and scraps of wood. But there were
always some foremen who found a great pleasure in taking
this comfort from us. How clearly their faces reflected this
pleasure when they not only forbade us to stand there but
turned over the stove and dumped its lovely fire into the
snow! When the SS took a dislike to a person, there was
always some special man in their ranks known to have a
passion for, and to be highly specialized in, sadistic torture,
to whom the unfortunate prisoner was sent.
Third, the feelings of the majority of the guards had
been dulled by the number of years in which, in ever-
increasing doses, they had witnessed the brutal methods of
the camp. These morally and mentally hardened men at
least refused to take active part in sadistic measures. But
they did not prevent others from carrying them out.
Fourth, it must be stated that even among the guards
there were some who took pity on us. I shall only mention
the commander of the camp from which I was liberated. It
was found after the liberation—only the camp doctor, a
prisoner himself, had known of it previously—that this man
had paid no small sum of money from his own pocket in
order to purchase medicines for his prisoners from the near-
Experiences in a Concentration Camp 93
est market town.
1
But the senior camp warden, a prisoner
himself, was harder than any of the SS guards. He beat the
other prisoners at every slightest opportunity, while the
camp commander, to my knowledge, never once lifted his
hand against any of us.
It is apparent that the mere knowledge that a man was
either a camp guard or a prisoner tells us almost nothing.
Human kindness can be found in all groups, even those
which as a whole it would be easy to condemn. The
boundaries between groups overlapped and we must not try
to simplify matters by saying that these men were angels
and those were devils. Certainly, it was a considerable
achievement for a guard or foreman to be kind to the pris
oners in spite of all the camp's influences, and, on the other
hand, the baseness of a prisoner who treated his own com
panions badly was exceptionally contemptible. Obviously
the prisoners found the lack of character in such men espe
cially upsetting, while they were profoundly moved by the
smallest kindness received from any of the guards. I re
member how one day a foreman secretly gave me a piece o£
bread which I knew he must have saved from his breakfast
ration. It was far more than the small piece of bread which
1 An interesting incident with reference to this SS commander is in
regard to the attitude toward him of some of his Jewish prisoners. At
the end of the war when the American troops liberated the prisoners
from our camp, three young Hungarian Jews hid this commander in
the Bavarian woods. Then they went to the commandant of the Ameri
can Forces who was very eager to capture this SS commander and they
said they would tell him where he was but only under certain condi
tions: the American commander must promise that absolutely no harm
would come to this man. After a while, the American officer finally
promised these young Jews that the SS commander when taken into
captivity would be kept safe from harm. Not only did the American
officer keep his promise but, as a matter of fact, the former SS com
mander of this concentration camp was in a sense restored to his com
mand, for he supervised the collection of clothing among the nearby
Bavarian villages, and its distribution to all of us who at that time
still wore the clothes we had inherited from other inmates of Camp
Auschwitz who were not as fortunate as we, having been sent to the gas
chamber immediately upon their arrival at the railway station.