Against the urgent advice of my friends (and despite the fact that almost none of my colleagues offered their services), I decided to volunteer.
I knew that in a working party I would die in a short time. But if I had to die there might at least be some sense in my death.
I thought that it would doubtless be more to the purpose to try and help my comrades as a doctor
than to vegetate or finally lose my life as the unproductive laborer that I was then.
For me this was simple mathematics, not sacrifice.
But secretly, the warrant officer from the sanitation squad had ordered
that the two doctors who had volunteered for the typhus camp should be “taken care of” till they left.
We looked so weak that he feared that he might have two additional corpses on his hands, rather than two doctors.
I mentioned earlier how everything that was not connected with the immediate task of keeping oneself and one’s closest friends alive lost its value.
Everything was sacrificed to this end. A man’s character became involved to the point that he was caught in a mental turmoil
which threatened all the values he held and threw them into doubt.
Under the influence of a world which no longer recognized the value of human life and human dignity,
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