[Above: A British officer tries to be a real tough guy getting in Rudolf Höss' beaten face. Shackled and abused, his stare is dead.]

[Above: Rudolf Höss, on the final step before God. He thinks of his wife and the son he will never see become a man. He thinks of the good days and his dedication in the NSDAP and the meteoric rise of truth. He thinks of the freedom Adolf Hitler brought to his country. His parents, his boyhood, his first kiss and lazy days in the sun. On this chilly, leafless day in April, he will never see the flowers of May.]

[Above: That hood won't hide your face from God, murderer. Don't you have the manliness to strangle him with your own hands? A normal hanging breaks the neck, what awaits Höss is a short-drop strangulation.]

[Above: Bravely, Höss waits with a clear conscience. He knew that the future would redeem his name and find the truth. Seventy some years later, you and I have found that truth.]