Narrator: A Nazi commander, describing the women he fought against in the Warsaw Ghetto, said they were not human, but "perhaps devils or goddesses." He recounted how young women, seemingly timid and resigned, would suddenly detonate hidden grenades, taking SS soldiers with them in a final, defiant curse. This image of fierce, strategic combatants stands in stark contrast to the traditional narrative of the Holocaust, which often focuses on victimization and male-led resistance. It raises a critical question: what if a crucial part of the story of Jewish resistance has been largely forgotten? In her book, The Light of Days, author Judy Batalion unearths this buried history, revealing the untold story of the "ghetto girls"—the young Jewish women who served as the nerve center of the resistance against Hitler.

Narrator: The journey into this forgotten history began by chance. In 2007, while researching in the British Library, Judy Batalion stumbled upon a dusty, Yiddish-language book from 1946 titled Freuen in di Ghettos (Women in the Ghettos). Expecting tales of suffering and survival, she was instead confronted with astonishing accounts of Jewish women involved in sabotage, espionage, and armed combat. These were stories of women smuggling weapons, bribing guards, assassinating Gestapo officials, and leading resistance cells.

This discovery was a revelation, starkly contrasting with the Holocaust narrative Batalion had grown up with. Her own grandmother, Bubbe Zelda, had survived by fleeing Warsaw, a story of escape and endurance, not armed defiance. The women in this book were not passive victims; they were planners, couriers, and warriors. Batalion realized that a vital chapter of history had been largely erased, suppressed by a post-war world that preferred simpler narratives and often minimized the contributions of women. This book became her mission to restore these women to their rightful place in history, to tell the stories of their courage, and to show the true breadth and scope of female resistance during the Holocaust.

Narrator: Before they were fighters, they were ordinary young women. The book introduces characters like Renia Kukiełka, a teenager from the Polish shtetl of Jędrzejów. Her life was a blend of Jewish tradition and Polish culture, defined by family, school, and the Zionist youth movements that offered a vision for a different future. These movements, like Freedom (Dror) and The Young Guard (Hashomer Hatzair), were more than social clubs; they were training grounds for a new generation, instilling ideals of equality, agency, and collective action.

The German invasion in 1939 shattered this world. The Nazis systematically dismantled Jewish life, first with discriminatory laws and then with the creation of ghettos. Families like Renia's were forced from their homes into cramped, squalid "Jewish neighborhoods." Life became a daily struggle for survival against starvation, disease, and the constant, arbitrary violence of the guards. It was in this crucible of terror that the seeds of resistance, planted in the youth movements, began to sprout. The skills these women had—fluency in Polish, an "Aryan" appearance, and a network of comrades—would soon become their greatest weapons.

Narrator: As the ghettos became sealed-off prisons, a new kind of operative emerged: the kashariyot, or courier girls. These young women became the lifeblood of the resistance. Because they were not circumcised and because Nazi sexism often rendered them invisible as threats, they could more easily pass for non-Jewish Poles. With forged papers, dyed hair, and immense courage, they moved between ghettos and across the country.

Leaders like Zivia Lubetkin and Frumka Płotnicka organized this network from Warsaw. The couriers smuggled information, medicine, money, and, most critically, weapons. They were, as one chronicler wrote, "the nerve-centers of the movement." Renia, with her flawless Polish and non-Jewish looks, was a natural fit. Her missions involved sewing money into her garter belt, trekking through forests to cross borders, and navigating police checkpoints in Warsaw, all while maintaining the facade of an ordinary Polish girl. These women were the vital connectors, linking isolated pockets of resistance and bringing not just supplies, but the invaluable currency of hope.

Narrator: As the Nazi's "Final Solution" became horrifyingly clear, the resistance faced a profound moral dilemma: defense or rescue? Should they use their limited resources, like forged passports, to save a few individuals, or should they organize a collective armed defense to die with honor? This debate came to a head in the Będzin ghetto in February 1943. A handful of passports offered a chance of escape. The leadership in Warsaw even directed Frumka Płotnicka, a key organizer, to use one to leave Poland and represent the Jewish people abroad.

In a moment that defined the movement's ethos, Frumka refused. "If we must die," she declared, "let us all die together. But let us strive for a heroic death." Her decision to stay and fight alongside her community was met with relief and renewed determination. The group unanimously chose defense over rescue, solidifying their commitment to fighting for their shared fate and leaving a legacy of defiance. It was a choice to fight not for survival, which seemed impossible, but for the honor of the Jewish people.

Narrator: The decision to fight culminated in the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising of April 1943. The Jewish Fighting Organization (ZOB) transformed the ghetto into a fortress of bunkers and tunnels. When the Germans entered to liquidate the ghetto, they were met with a storm of bullets, grenades, and Molotov cocktails. Women were central to the fight. Zivia Lubetkin commanded units, and others threw acid bottles and fought in the streets. For a few days, the Jewish fighters held back the German army, a stunning act of defiance that was broadcast by the secret Polish radio.

The German response was overwhelming and brutal. Unable to win on the streets, they began to systematically burn the ghetto to the ground, building by building. The fire, Zivia later recalled, became a more terrifying enemy than the Germans. The uprising was crushed, but its impact was immense. It became a powerful symbol of Jewish resistance, inspiring revolts in other ghettos and proving that Jews would not go "like sheep to the slaughter."

Narrator: Beyond the dramatic uprisings, the book details the clandestine war fought daily by the couriers. Their work required extraordinary psychological fortitude and a mastery of deception. They had to suppress their emotions, feign lightheartedness, and constantly perform. Some, like Bela Hazan, took unimaginable risks. Posing as a Christian Pole, Bela secured a job as a translator in a Gestapo office. From this position, she gathered intelligence, warned Jews of impending raids, and smuggled information to the resistance, all while serving coffee to the very men who were orchestrating the genocide.

Other women, like Renia, became weapons smugglers. They would travel to the Aryan side to buy guns—often from corrupt German soldiers—and strap them to their bodies, hiding them under layers of clothing to get them back into the ghetto. Each mission was a life-or-death gamble, a testament to their ingenuity and their unwavering commitment to arming the resistance.

Narrator: For those who survived, liberation was not the end of their struggle. They were, as one survivor put it, "liberated from the fear of death, but not free from the fear of life." Many, like Zivia Lubetkin, were plagued by survivor's guilt, haunted by the friends and family they had lost. Others, like Chajka Klinger, battled severe depression and trauma, finding that "not everyone survives surviving."

In the post-war years, their stories were often silenced. The new state of Israel favored heroic narratives of male fighters, and many women, conditioned by their roles in the youth movements, had documented the deeds of others rather than their own. They focused on rebuilding, raising families, and trying to create a "normal" life, often shielding their children from the full horror of their past. It fell to the next generation to uncover these stories and fight for their place in history, ensuring that the forgotten strength of these women would finally see the light of day.

Narrator: The single most important takeaway from The Light of Days is the revelation that Jewish resistance during the Holocaust was far more widespread, organized, and female-driven than has ever been commonly understood. Judy Batalion dismantles the myth of passive victimhood by introducing a pantheon of heroines who actively fought back with strategic brilliance and breathtaking courage. These women were not footnotes in the history of the resistance; they were its architects and its engine.

The book challenges us to reconsider what resistance looks like. It wasn't just armed uprisings; it was smuggling a loaf of bread, forging a document, maintaining a disguise under interrogation, and preserving one's humanity in the face of absolute evil. It leaves us with a crucial question: How many other stories of strength and defiance have been lost or buried, and what is our responsibility to unearth them?