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It was a release to be transferred. I had not felt well in Sobibor. The lives of the men revolved around games: play cards at night, kill Jews in the day. They curse, they drink, they laugh, they murder. They spit on the corpses.
I prefer the men in Treblinka, full of purpose, full of compassion. Stricken with the horror of what they must do. of being in a world where what they do is necessary. Not flinching in the face of death, solemnly revoking the Jews´ license to live.
At night, finding consolation in the glories of German culture.