Rudolf Hoess - Commandant of Auschwitz

Among this mass of typical professional criminals was a great number of prisoners who could not be included in quite the same class. They were borderline cases. Some were already treading the slippery path that leads to the tempting and exciting world of crime, while others were fighting with all their strength against being enmeshed in its will-o’-the-wisp attractions. Others, led astray for the first time but weak by nature, found themselves in a constant state of vacillation between the external pressures of prison life and their own inner feelings.

The mentality of this group was made up of diverse characteristics and ranged through the whole scale of human sensibility. They often rushed between one extreme and the other.

Prison had no effect at all on men of a lighthearted and frivolous nature. Their souls lacked ballast and they lived gaily from day to day. They gave no thought to the future and would continue to amble easily through life as they had done before, until some new trouble overtook them.

It was quite different with those whose minds were of a serious bent. They tried to avoid the poisonous atmosphere of the communal cells. Most of them, however, found that they were unable to endure the rigors of solitary confinement; they were frightened by loneliness and the perpetual self-examination that it entailed, and they soon returned to the squalor of the crowded cells.

There was, indeed, the possibility of sharing a cell with two other men. But it was rare to find three men who could, for any length of time, endure living together at such close quarters. These little groups had repeatedly to be broken up. I knew of none that lasted long. A lengthy term of imprisonment makes even the best man irritable, unsociable, and lacking in consideration. In such close quarters, consideration for one’s companions is an essential.

It was not only the imprisonment itself, the monotonous sameness of the daily round, the perpetual discipline imposed by countless orders and regulations, the endless bawling and cursing of the guards over trifles, that crushed their serious-minded prisoners, but even more it was the prospect of the future and of what they were to do with their lives after they had served their sentences. Their conversation usually revolved about this. Would they be able to fit into normal life again, or would they find themselves outcasts?

If they were married as well, their families were a further cause of gnawing anxieties. Would their wives remain faithful during such a long separation? Such considerations had a deeply depressing effect on men of this kind, which not even the daily work or the serious literature that they read in their spare time could dispel.

Often their minds became deranged, or they committed suicide for no real reason. By “real reasons” I mean such as bad news from home, divorce, the death of near relatives, refusal of a petition for mitigation of sentence, and so on.

Nor was imprisonment easy for the irresolute types, the ones who could never make up their minds. They were too impressionable and easily influenced by the others. A few tempting words from some old convict, or a wad of tobacco, could be sufficient to scatter their best intentions to the winds.

On the other hand, a good book or a serious conversation would induce such men to peaceful self-contemplation and meditation.

In my opinion many of the inmates could have been brought back to the right path if the senior officials had been more human and less conscious of their official positions. Especially was this so with regard to the priests of both confessions, who through their functions as censors of correspondence as well as through their official duties were well aware of the condition and frame of mind of the men who composed their flocks.

All these officials, however, had grown dull and gray in the perpetual monotony of their work. Their eyes were blind to the needs of a man struggling earnestly to remake his life. Should such a prisoner manage to summon enough courage to ask his priest or clergyman for advice in his troubles, he was immediately greeted with the standard assumption: that he was feigning repentance in order to obtain a remission of sentence.

It is true that the officials had become accustomed to such deceptions, practiced by men unworthy of pity or understanding. Even the most cynical criminal became devout when the time drew near for his petition for remission of sentence to be examined, though there might be only the smallest prospect of its success.

On countless occasions I heard prisoners complaining to one another how grievously they felt the lack of help from the prison administration in their worries and anxieties.

The psychological effect of their punishment on these serious-minded prisoners, who genuinely wished to be better men, was far greater than that caused by physical hardship. In comparison with their more irresponsible comrades, they were punished twice over.

After the consolidation of the political and economic situation following the inflation, a broadly democratic outlook prevailed in Germany. Among many other government innovations in those years was the introduction of a humane and progressive attitude toward the purpose of prison sentences. It was believed that those who had broken the law of the state could be made into good citizens again by means of education and kindness. The theory was that every man is the product of his environment. If one gave the lawbreaker who had served his sentence an economically adequate and secure existence, this would provide him with an incentive for social advancement, and he would be saved from going astray once more. Suitable social trust would enable him to forget his asocial attitude and would prevent him from slipping back into a life of crime.

The cultural standards of the penal establishments were to be raised by educational means, such as musical performances, which would enliven the spirit, and well-chosen lectures on the basic moral laws governing human society and on the fundamental principles of ethics and other such themes.

The senior prison officials were to devote more attention to the individual prisoners and to their psychological troubles. The prisoner himself, owing to a three-degree system offering many kinds of contractual privileges hitherto unknown, could gradually advance, by means of good behavior, diligent work, and proof of a change of heart, to the third degree and thus obtain an early release on probation. In optimum cases he could obtain a remission of half his sentence.

I myself was the first of approximately 800 prisoners to reach the third degree. Up to the time of my release there were not more than a dozen who, in the opinion of the authorities, were worthy of wearing the three stripes on their sleeve. In my case all the aforementioned qualifications were present. I had never been given any kind of house punishment or even a reprimand; I had always completed more than my daily work task; I was a first offender who had not been deprived of civil rights, and I was classified as guilty of a “crime of conviction.” Since, however, I had been condemned by the political tribunal, I could only be released before completing my sentence as the result of an Act of Grace on the part of the President of the Reich, or of an amnesty.

Almost as soon as I had begun to serve my sentence, I finally realized the full nature of my predicament. I came to my senses. There could be no doubt that I was faced with the almost certain prospect of serving a sentence of ten years’ hard labor. A letter from one of my defending lawyers on the matter at last confirmed what I now knew to be the case. And I accepted the reality of this ten-year sentence. Up to then I had enjoyed each day as it came, had taken the good with the bad, and had never given a serious thought to my future. Now I had leisure enough to reflect on my past life, to recognize my mistakes and my weaknesses, and to train myself for a richer and more rewarding life in the future.