Bela had a joyful reunion with her comrades （who were worried about her high-risk employment） and gave them her papers, which they spent all night copying in their “fake document office.” After a few days, Bela returned to Grodno with instructions to inform the Judenrat about Ponary and request financial help for smuggling Jews out of Vilna. She was also to meet with Freedom members and share plans for an underground revolt.
Just before leaving Vilna, Bela replaced her Jewish armband with a black ribbon of mourning. On the train, she burst into tears, crying for the destruction of the Jews. Passengers consoled her about her brother. That is, when they weren’t blaming the Jews for all the country’s problems. Back in her flat, her landlady and neighbor helped calm her down. When she returned to work, she found a sympathy card from her Nazi office mates saying how saddened they were by the loss of her brother. This, at last, made her laugh.
Bela petitioned for a special permit to enter the ghetto. She explained that she needed to be seen by a very good Jewish dentist—she got a two-week pass. At the Judenrat, she presented her information and requests. Could they spare some money for the poorest in Vilna? Would they take in refugees? But the men on the council didn’t believe her. Besides, they said, where would they put more people? And they couldn’t just give money to anybody. In the hall, Bela sobbed. One Judenrat member approached her and quietly offered to help the refugees, handing her money and fake IDs. In the basement library, she met the Freedom group. There were eighty of them—many familiar—who assembled for lectures and Hebrew lessons. She told them about Ponary and the need for the youth to rise up.
Just before Christmas 1941, Bela decorated her first tree and told her landlady that a friend would visit for the holidays. Tema Schneiderman arrived in Grodno, wearing her favored elegant but casual clothes, including fashionable black winter boots. She was known to always bring a gift—even when entering a ghetto—like wild flowers that she’d picked on the way, smuggled lemons, or an article of her own clothing.
Warsaw-native Tema （also known as Wanda Majewska） was a tall, restrained, Christian-looking courier whose gently smiling face was crowned with two auburn braids. Tema lost her mother at a young age and was independent and practical; she’d spoken Polish at home and attended public school before becoming a nurse. She joined Freedom through her fiancé, Mordechai Tenenbaum, and learned Yiddish. Earlier in the war, the two of them forged emigration documents and sent comrades to Palestine. Mordechai took her name for his fake ID; he adored Tema and sent her on the most dangerous missions. Her reports were published in underground bulletins, and she wrote an essay for a Polish underground paper meant for Germans, telling them of the war’s horrors. Tema had been working in the area as a courier and people smuggler.
Bela took Tema to her office—the condolence card was still hanging on the bulletin board. Tema also had a good laugh.
A Nazi who was enamored of Bela invited her to the office Christmas party. She couldn’t refuse. That night, Tema and Lonka were both staying in her apartment, so she brought them along. The three of them got dressed up and attended the Gestapo holiday festivities, posing for a photograph that has since become the iconic image of courier girls. Each one got a copy.
Soon after, the underground summoned Bela to Vilna. She told her boss she needed to be in the hospital for two weeks and took a train there. The passenger car was packed with Nazi soldiers, with whom she chatted—money stashed in her bra, Jewish star in her coat pocket. She entered the Vilna ghetto with a group of women workers, offering to help carry their sacks of potatoes. A few blocks felt like miles.
Soon after, Bela found herself in the Bia?ystok ghetto. There she and Lonka collaborated to smuggle in a package that concealed an infant who had been born in Grodno. Bela was so happy to be among friends, and open as a Jew, that she decided to stay. Frumka arrived in Bia?ystok to lead a three-week seminar, intent that the comrades continue to learn and think. Lonka and Bela spent days trawling the region, finding Jews to smuggle to the seminar, in disguise, and by car, train, and foot. The seminar made them feel like they were living a normal life.
Vilna, Bia?ystok, Volhynia, Kovel—Bela spent the next months traveling nonstop, evading liquidations—once by hiding in cement barrels—and finally arriving home to find her family’s house inhabited by Ukrainians, her mother’s living room decorated with images of Jesus. Bela threw out a few antisemitic remarks, then asked what happened to the local Jews.