Chapter 5 opens with the narrator reflecting on a chilling encounter with Rudolf Hoess, the Commandant of Auschwitz, at a New Year’s Eve party in Warsaw in 1944. Hoess, somewhat envious of the narrator’s writing talent, confesses that he has incredible stories to tell, but can only do so once the war concludes. He mentions struggling with a creative block, an eerie admission given the contrast between his role as the architect of Auschwitz and the moral weight of his actions during the war. This interaction lays the groundwork for the disturbing juxtaposition between creativity and atrocity, highlighting the tension between Hoess’s personal ambitions and the horrific nature of his position within the Nazi regime. The scene is a chilling reminder of the compartmentalized mindset that many perpetrators of war crimes adopted, pushing the moral implications of their actions into the background.

The narrator reveals that he is in Warsaw at the request of Dr. Paul Joseph Goebbels, the head of the Nazi propaganda ministry. Goebbels envisions a grand pageant that will honor German soldiers who died suppressing the Warsaw Ghetto uprising, and he wants it to be staged in the war-ravaged city. The pageant is planned as an annual event, with the ruins of Warsaw serving as a dramatic and fitting backdrop for the tribute. When the narrator asks about the presence of Jews in the pageant, Goebbels nonchalantly suggests they will “ask Hoess” to “save some” since he runs a health resort for Jews. This statement, darkly humorous and chilling, reflects the Nazi regime’s warped worldview, treating human lives as commodities for their own grotesque purposes. The casualness of Goebbels’ remark about Jews highlights the moral bankruptcy of the Nazi leadership and their brutal exploitation of suffering.

As the narrator reflects on the disturbing nature of the proposed pageant, tentatively titled “Last Full Measure,” he finds himself confronting the deeper moral implications of the task. He admits that he might have written it under pressure, acknowledging that the project draws unexpected attention to the Gettysburg Address by Abraham Lincoln. In translating Lincoln’s speech for Goebbels, the narrator finds the sentiments resonate deeply with the Nazi ideology, particularly Goebbels’ view that Lincoln’s words could be adapted for Nazi funeral oratory. This conversation highlights the absurdity of Nazi leaders attempting to appropriate universal themes of sacrifice and unity, twisting them to serve their propaganda needs. The dissonance between the noble ideals of Lincoln’s address and their use in this context underscores the distortion of meaning that pervades the Nazi regime’s actions, as they sought to co-opt history and culture for their own purposes.

The conversation shifts to Lincoln’s background, where Goebbels expresses concern over the possibility that Lincoln may have been Jewish, a reflection of the deep anti-Semitism that defined the regime’s ideology. This moment reveals the extent of the regime’s irrational hatred and obsession with race, projecting their anti-Semitic views even onto historical figures, no matter how disconnected those views were from reality. Just two weeks later, the narrator receives word that the Gettysburg Address has been sent back from Hitler, with praise for its emotional impact. The speech is now seen as a symbol of unity among northern peoples, a stark contrast to the distorted, violent nationalism espoused by the Nazis. This response from Hitler reflects the regime’s attempt to appropriate anything that could be twisted to support their cause, even revered symbols of unity and sacrifice.

The chapter concludes with a deeper insight into the narrator’s psyche. Despite the political intrigue and moral conflicts surrounding him, his dreams are filled with memories of women—his wife, Helga, and her sister, Resi—rather than the tyrants and war criminals of his past. These reflections offer a poignant contrast to the dark world the narrator finds himself in, both physically and mentally. His current life in Israel is described as a form of purgatory, a limbo where he is haunted by the memories of his former life in New York, which he describes as even worse than Hell. This juxtaposition between his present reality and the ghosts of his past underscores the complexity of the narrator’s emotional state, as he grapples with guilt, longing, and the weight of his past actions. The haunting memories of women who are now absent from his life serve as a stark reminder of what he has lost, adding emotional depth to his reflection on the consequences of his choices.