From all social classes, too. Most are between twenty and thirty years old, but all look like very old men. Others are there simply because they were caught in a random sweep in Paris or Warsaw or some other city. But we speak as little as possible of such matters. Here the suffering is limitless and everyone shares it.
All differences fade away in the face of the common destiny.
Lost in this mass of men, there are five of us who are sons of St. Francis. While we are under way, the SS relax their vigilance. We take advantage of this to stand for a moment and take a look at the countryside through which we are passing. During the afternoon the train stops in the extensive suburbs of Leipzig, and the SS have those who have died during the journey brought out of the cars. These are quickly and unceremoniously buried beside the track.