The men of Block 14 were digging gravel outside the Auschwitz concentration camp in July 1941. Suddenly, the sirens began to shriek. There'd been an escape. That evening their fears were confirmed: he was from their block. Next day, the block's 600 men were forced to stand on the parade ground under the broiling sun. "At the day's end," wrote reporter Connie Lauerman, "the deputy commander, Fritsch, arrived in his crisply pressed uniform and shiny jackboots to announce the fate of the terrified men in dirty, striped prison suits. 'The fugitive hasn't been found,' barked Fritsch. 'In reprisal for your comrade's escape, ten of you will die by starvation.'"

The men slated for starvation were selected. One of them, Franciszek Gajowniczek, a Polish army sergeant, was sobbing, "My wife and my children." Then a Polish Franciscan priest, Maximillan Kolbe, pushed his way to the front as S.S. guards sighted their rifles on his chest. "Herr Kommandant," he said, "a request."

"What do you want?" barked the commandant.

"I want to die in place of this prisoner," pointing to Gajowniczek. I've no wife and no children. Besides, I'm old and not good for anything."

A stunned silence, and then "Request granted!"