Arbeit macht frei (“work makes you free”).
Jedem das Seine (literally “to each his own”)

Cast iron signs over your head as you enter the final solution.
The Nazis loved phrases. They were a communication power house. The irony of the wrought iron grill wasn’t lost on many of the educated that entered the camps of Auschwitz or Buchenwald.

I doubt that you know anyone from then or their. I knew only one person who had survived. I knew that only because of the tattoo on his arm. I think I told him once what I though it was. He never talked about it. By now he must have died. I hope that Max had a better life. That he got much more than what he deserved. That at last his life was set free. I hope all that while doubting it.

You may escape, but you will never be free. War takes or kills, forever, until your end.