Walking behind the two officers, Max Ernst admired their tilted hats. SS officers, himself included, always tilted their hats. It was a brand that distinguished them for all other German officers. Being a former marketing executive, Ernst could appreciate the value of a brand. The two officers took Ernst and his attaché into a large, unimpressive building. A building with no distinct features but those found within its four walls. They passed through a ‘waiting room’ and a ‘hair room’ until finally they arrived at a massive steel door. Beyond it lay a large room filled only with shower heads.

-“There”, said one of the SS officers. “That’s the door to the gas chamber. That’s the problem. Fix it”. The officers turned around and existed the building.

“Well?”, asked Ernst.

-“Well what?”

“Well does it look scary?”

“It’s the entrance to a gas chamber! Of course it looks scary” answered the attaché sitting down on the stairs. He then took a bite from an apple that echoed throughout the empty chamber.

“Yes, but the whole point is to make it less scary so that people gladly walk in” insisted a frustrated Ernst.

“You expect people to waltz into to a gas chamber?” asked the attaché taking another bite from his apple. The attaché was the newest recruit in the SS’s Jewish Affairs Department. Ernst was asked to ‘show him the ropes’ but wished he could show him the door.

“It’s all in the presentation”, argued the former marketing executive. “If they don’t think it’s a gas chamber they won’t mind going in”.

“Well how on earth can you mask a death trap like a gas chamber?”

“Through marketing” explained Ernst now examining the empty chamber. “That’s what marketers do. Why marketers get people into death traps like cars and trams all the time. They even get kids to go fight the Russians. What we need now is a marketing slogan, a way to get people into this particular death trap. One that already looks like a shower, albeit a cold one”.

The two men grew silent and only the echo of the apple could be heard. Ernst leaned on the gas chamber’s door while the attaché, now half way through the apple, placed his elbows on the steps and reclined comfortably.

“A sign!” yelled Ernst slightly startling the attaché. “That’s what we need. A sign. A sign you would not expect to find outside a death trap. A sign that hangs in the entrance to a shower”. Ernst picked up a pad of paper, removed a pencil from behind his ear and quickly scribbled something. He then turned the pad and, like a boy seeking validation from his father, asked “How about- Welcome?”.

-“Welcome?” repeated the attaché. “It doesn’t sound very German. Or very SS-like. Since when do we welcome Jews? Anywhere? It sounds like a hoax” concluded the young recruit with little interest. He then threw the apple stem into the chamber and used a nail to dislodge some pieces of fruit that desperately clung to his teeth. 

“Good point. What about a simple This way please”. Ernst added a small arrow to the pad of paper. ”It’s short and not too patronizing”.

The attaché paused for a moment and looked at the pad. “That’s better, I think. But this is a one way assembly line, isn’t it?”.

“Yup” replied an enthused Ernst. He was now in his element. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he sought to solve the puzzle in front of him. He relished the opportunity to exchange ideas, to try different approaches, to draft a phrase and erase it only to draft it again until finally reaching the ecstasy of a solution. “It’s a one-way assembly line. From the waiting room, to the hair room, to the gas chamber and finally to the furnace”. 

-“So it’s a redundant sign. Obviously people will ‘walk this way’. German signs are never redundant. They convey the exact amount of information necessary. Like ‘Rouse’, or ‘Schnell’ or ‘Halt’.

Ernst paced back and forth as the attaché asked “Why all the fuss? Those two officers said that these chambers has been working perfectly for months”.

-“Rumors. The Jews are expecting to be gassed. It makes them hesitant to enter the chamber. So the gassing takes longer meaning this camp doesn’t meet its daily deaths quota. That’s why we’re here and that’s why this room is no longer a scary gas chamber but a friendly, familiar, shower. A nice bath after a long train ride. See, the room is already fitted with shower heads. Just as you’d expect”.

The attaché smiled. “Is the water hot?”

-“Boiling”. They both laughed for a moment. “The shower heads look good but this entrance door to the chamber, this steel monster is too daunting. SS architects have no flair for design. Nor a mind for marketing for that matter”.

“But they get the job done quickly” quarreled the attaché hoping to go back to the hotel and get some rest. “And you have been looking at this door for an hour without making any progress”.

“You can’t rush the creative process” explained Ernst, his eyes fixed on the steel door. “Inspiration takes her time. You know how long it took us to design the ‘Go East’ campaign. Coming up with the ‘relocation to the East’ slogan and creating logos and fake map for the Jews standing in the Ghetto deportation squares. Now that was a challenge! Getting Jews to eagerly board trains headed for this very chamber. No. This door is not a challenge” he said out loud sensing the solution was nearby. “No. This door is just a roadblock. All I need is a bit of inspiration”.

-“More like perspiration. Why is it so bloody hot down here” asked the attaché no longer wearing his jacket.

“The furnace. They keep it running day and night”.

Now the attaché smiled recalling “One of the officers told me that that’s the difference between Santa Clause and a Jew. One climbs down the chimney and exits through the door while the other enters through the door and exits up the chimney. Maybe we need a sign that says ‘after shower proceed to sauna’?”

A bit thick, thought Ernst. “No. But you are right. We need something short and pithy. Something simple like ‘ice cold’ or ‘homeward bound’. Something that drives the senses or steers emotions. How about…”

Silence took root. Not an awkward silence but a tense one. The attaché could actually sense it. He could smell the change in chemistry, touch the energy now occupying the space between the two men. Finally, Ernst turned around, smiled and simply said “Watch your step”.

“Watch your step?!” blurted the confused attaché.

-“Well if you are about to be killed no one would care where you stepped”, said Ernst, sitting beside the attaché. “And if you are going to live, the last thing we Germans want is for you to get injured”. 

“But what does it actually mean? How does it drive those ‘senses’ and ‘emotions’ of yours?”

The former marketing executive laughed. This was the beauty of marketing, he thought. That even a fellow marketer fails to interpret the message at first.

“Watch your step. It means… we care about you. It means you have value. It means you are a human being. Yes…Watch Your Step. That’s what you’d expect to read in the entrance to a shower.”

-“You mean a gas chamber”.