Anguish. German soldiers—with their steel helmets, and their death’s head emblem. Still, our first impressions of the Germans were rather reassuring. The officers were billeted in private houses, even in Jewish homes. Their attitude toward their hosts was distant, but polite. They never demanded the impossible, made no offensive remarks, and sometimes even smiled at the lady of the house. A German officer lodged in the Kahn’s house across the street from us. We were told he was a charming man, calm, likable, and polite. Three days after he moved in, he brought Mrs. Kahn a box of chocolates. The optimists were jubilant: "Well? What did we tell you? You wouldn’t believe us. There they are, your Germans. What do you say now? Where is their famous cruelty?"
The Germans were already in town, the Fascists were already in power, the verdict was already out—and the Jews of Sighet were still smiling. (1.59-60)
What more can we say after that last line? Wiesel says it all. Well, if you really want our extra thought: the Sighet Jews deceive themselves with optimistic hopes for the future, blinding themselves to present danger.