Major Yeka­te­ri­na Niki­foro­va speak­ing to stu­dents at the Cen­tral Wom­en’s Sniper Train­ing School about to be deployed, 1 April 1943, Pho­to by V. Krasutskiy

After months of train­ing at the inau­gur­al Cen­tral Women’s Sniper Train­ing School, an all-female Red Army pla­toon arrived on the 2nd Beloruss­ian Front. It was Feb­ru­ary, 1944, and these women were amongst the first female snipers to ever be in com­bat. Their male supe­ri­or offi­cers were unim­pressed. The colonel ordered the pla­toon to remain at divi­sion head­quar­ters, but Sergeant Bel­la Epstein refused, say­ing, No, we’re snipers, send us where we’re sup­posed to go.”

As a Jew­ish author, I felt a surge of adren­a­line at Bella’s for­ti­tude in the face of overt misog­y­ny, and decid­ed the pro­tag­o­nist in my new nov­el, The Night Spar­row, had to be Jew­ish, too. I couldn’t resist the irony of Jew­ish women hunt­ing Nazis, and I want­ed to explore the com­plex­i­ty for Jews serv­ing in Joseph Stalin’s Red Army, where they were not rec­og­nized as a nation, yet fought against a regime that con­sid­ered them a race to be exterminated. 

I came across Bel­la Epstein in Svet­lana Alexievich’s Nobel Prize win­ning book, The Unwom­an­ly Face of War: An Oral His­to­ry of Women in World War II. In an inter­view with Alex­ievich, Bella’s rec­ol­lec­tion of her arrival on the front gave me a vis­cer­al sense of her youth and inex­pe­ri­ence: The first time planes flew over, I crouched down and cov­ered my head with my hands, then I thought, And what about my poor hands? I wasn’t ready for death yet.”

This troi­ka of fear, inno­cence, and deter­mi­na­tion was a com­mon expe­ri­ence for many of these women in the first female pla­toon, along with their con­vo­lut­ed path to becom­ing snipers. 

Anoth­er one of these remark­able Jew­ish women was Sara Eren­shtein, whose par­ents died dur­ing the family’s escape from Riga, Latvia, to Uzbek­istan. Sara was a med­ical order­ly before com­plet­ing sniper offi­cer cours­es. Many of the 2,500 female snipers start­ed their mil­i­tary work in med­ical bat­tal­ions and par­ti­san groups, as they were expect­ed, as women, to treat injuries on the front. Sara embod­ied the brav­ery of both roles, ban­dag­ing injured sol­diers and pulling four sol­diers at a time from the bat­tle­field,” wrote her com­man­der, Zha­nis Gri­va, in an arti­cle enti­tled Sne­gurochka” (Snow Maid­en) he wrote for a mil­i­tary magazine. 

It was Feb­ru­ary, 1944, and these women were amongst the first female snipers to ever be in combat. 

Once, Sara was tasked with elim­i­nat­ing the Ger­mans who were shoot­ing at her pla­toon from a bro­ken-down tank. After dig­ging her­self into the snow, Sara shot and killed three Ger­mans, then had to stay cam­ou­flaged in the snowy ter­rain until it was dark, to avoid being shot by the enemy. 

Sara’s skills as a medic and a sniper, along with her astound­ing endurance, inspired and informed the char­ac­ters in my new book, includ­ing my pro­tag­o­nist, Ele­na. Curi­ous­ly, dur­ing her time in the pla­toon, Sara’s name was changed to a Russ­ian ver­sion, Shu­ra, pos­si­bly because of anti­semitism with­in her unit. While I didn’t find any anti­se­mit­ic inci­dents with­in the female snipers’ reg­i­ments dur­ing my research, Jew­ish women did have to tol­er­ate Stalin’s decree that they were not tar­get­ed by the Nazis, even though mass graves were filled entire­ly with Jews in the Sovi­et Union. 

A non-Jew­ish sniper, Roza Shan­i­na, was cru­cial for my under­stand­ing of how a teenag­er coped with seem­ing­ly incom­pat­i­ble desires: to expe­ri­ence love and to pro­tect the Moth­er­land. In her diary, she writes, I was very suc­cess­ful fight­ing back one of the enemy’s coun­ter­at­tacks. 15 kills for sure, as I was at close range and shot a lot…after dark went to Niko­lay and quar­relled with him about Lena — my rival from the med­ical battalion.”

To com­pre­hend the impact of front-line com­bat on female snipers, I looked to Bel­la Epstein’s rec­ol­lec­tion of an inci­dent that occurred as she rode a street­car in Min­sk after World War II. She recounts, women cried out, A man’s been killed! A man’s been killed! And I sat alone in the car. I couldn’t under­stand why every­body was cry­ing. I didn’t feel it was ter­ri­ble. I had seen so many peo­ple killed at the front…I didn’t react.”

It’s been eighty years since these proud females defend­ed their home­land. In a twist of bit­ter irony, when the war end­ed, their names and accom­plish­ments were expunged by the coun­try they fought to pro­tect. Today, as we’re expe­ri­enc­ing an alarm­ing swell of anti­semitism, along with a shock­ing ero­sion of women’s rights, these female snipers’ sto­ries are essen­tial for recon­struct­ing the past accu­rate­ly, under­stand­ing Jew­ish female fight­ers in this war, and for inspir­ing future generations. 

The Night Spar­row by Shelly Sanders

Shelly Sanders is the best­selling author of the adult nov­el Daugh­ters of the Occu­pa­tion and the acclaimed young adult his­tor­i­cal nov­els The Rachel Tril­o­gy. She began her writ­ing career as a free­lance jour­nal­ist work­ing for major pub­li­ca­tions, includ­ing the Toron­to Star, Nation­al Post, Maclean’s, Cana­di­an Liv­ing, Reader’s Digest, and Today’s Par­ent. She lives in Ontario.