man-s-search-for-meaning

MAN'S SEARCH FOR MEANING
though it were a farewell, not for life, but from life.
Slowly I walked back to my hut. There I found a good
friend waiting for me.
"You really want to go with them?" he asked sadly.
"Yes, I am going."
Tears came to his eyes and I tried to comfort him.
Then there was something else to do - to make my
will:
"Listen, Otto, if I don't get back home to my wife,
and if you should see her again, then tell her that I
talked of her daily, hourly. You remember. Secondly, I
have loved her more than anyone. Thirdly, the short
time I have been married to her outweighs everything,
even all we have gone through here."
Otto, where are you now? Are you alive? What has
happened to you since our last hour together? Did you
find your wife again? And do you remember how I
made you learn my will by heart - word for word - in
spite of your childlike tears?
The next morning I departed with the transport.
This time it was not a ruse. We were not heading for
the gas chambers, and we actually did go to a rest
camp. Those who had pitied me remained in a camp
where famine was to rage even more fiercely than in
our new camp. They tried to save themselves, but they
only sealed their own fates. Months later, after liberation,
I met a friend from the old camp. He related to
me how he, as camp policeman, had searched for a
piece of human flesh that was missing from a pile of
corpses. He confiscated it from a pot in which he
found it cooking. Cannibalism had broken out. I had
left just in time.
Does this not bring to mind the story of Death in
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