As part of our ongoing effort to confront disinformation and reclaim historical truth, the U.S.-Ukraine Foundation is proud to present a series of powerful stories highlighting the role of Ukrainians in the Allied victory during World War II. While Russian propaganda continues to push the false narrative that the USSR—and by extension, Russia—won the war alone, history tells a different story. Ukrainians fought, resisted, and saved lives at great personal risk. From brave intelligence officers and legendary pilots to priests who sheltered the persecuted, these five individuals embody the courage and sacrifice that helped bring an end to Nazi tyranny. Their legacy belongs not to a single nation, but to all who value freedom, justice, and truth.
Ukraine’s Courageous Legacy: Andriy Sheptytsky and the Rescue of Jews During the Holocaust

Video: Metropolitan Archbishop of Philadelphia for Ukrainian Catholics in the United States speaks about Andriy Sheptytsky.
Produced for the Ukrainian Institute London — a center dedicated to Ukraine-related educational and cultural initiatives.
During the Holocaust, countless Ukrainians risked their lives to save Jews from Nazi extermination. As of 2014, Ukraine ranked fourth on Yad Vashem’s list of Righteous Among the Nations, with 2,472 recognized Ukrainian rescuers—a powerful testament to moral courage amidst terror. Among the most revered of these rescuers was Metropolitan Andriy Sheptytsky, head of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church, whom many in the Jewish community continue to call “a saint.”
At a time when many turned away in fear or hatred, Metropolitan Sheptytsky and his brother Klymentiy quietly orchestrated one of the most daring and large-scale Jewish rescue operations in Nazi-occupied Europe. With the help of priests, monks, and members of the Ukrainian clergy, Sheptytsky created an underground network centered at St. George’s Cathedral in Lviv, which became a haven for Jews—particularly children—fleeing mass murder. Under his guidance, approximately 200 Jewish children were hidden in monasteries, churches, and private homesacross Western Ukraine, often given false identities and raised by monks to avoid detection.
What made Sheptytsky’s actions especially significant was not only the scale of his operation, but his public stance in a time of fear-driven silence. Despite the dangers, he openly condemned Nazi atrocities and issued pastoral letters to his clergy, calling for compassion and solidarity with the persecuted Jewish population. His 1942 letter “Thou Shalt Not Kill” was one of the few religious condemnations of the Holocaust issued from within Nazi-occupied territories. In it, he denounced the systematic murder of Jews and urged Christians to protect all innocent lives, regardless of religion or ethnicity.
Sheptytsky’s leadership saved lives—but it also sparked a moral awakening. In an era saturated with anti-Semitic propaganda, his actions offered an alternate example: one rooted in faith, humanity, and courage. Though the Soviet regime later suppressed his legacy, and the Vatican has yet to canonize him, his memory lives on as a symbol of interfaith solidarity and moral resistance. In the words of rescued child Adam Rotfeld, who later became Poland’s Foreign Minister, “Had it not been for Sheptytsky, I would not be alive.” Today, Andriy Sheptytsky stands as a towering figure of conscience in Ukraine’s wartime history—an emblem of light in one of Europe’s darkest hours.
Ukrainians Helped Secure Victory: The Untold Story of Dutch POWs and the Ukrainian Resistance

During World War II, the Netherlands was quickly overrun and occupied by Nazi Germany. Around 2,000 Dutch officers were taken as prisoners of war and sent deep into occupied territory—to a camp in Stanislav, now the Ukrainian city of Ivano-Frankivsk.
As the Eastern Front shifted, several Dutch prisoners saw a narrow chance to escape. Two officers, Joop J. Singor and Syp van der Pol, slipped away by crawling under the camp theater’s stage. Others leapt from a moving train leaving the city—among them Edward J.C. van Hootegem, Piet de Ruijter, and Johannes Adolfbaron Bentinck.
But freedom didn’t come easily. As they crossed western Ukraine and headed for the Carpathians, they were found by local villagers—and soon after, by fighters of the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UPA), one of the largest anti-Nazi partisan movements in Eastern Europe.
Despite grave danger, Ukrainian partisans provided shelter, food, and protection to the Dutch officers. Under German occupation, such aid could mean death. Still, the UPA took the risk. Moving from farmhouse to farmhouse, the Dutch were cared for and eventually guided through the snowy mountains to safety across the Hungarian border.
Lt. Gen. van Hootegem would later recall the humanity and even humor of the Ukrainians who helped them: “Whatever the circumstances, a Galician retains his easygoing nature.”
All ten Dutch officers survived. They returned home and later became part of the Netherlands’ postwar military leadership.
This little-known episode reminds us that Ukrainians played a vital role in resisting Nazi Germany—and in saving lives on the road to Allied victory.
The Ukrainian Spy Who Saved Krakow: A Shared Legacy of Courage
Video: Project “Inform Napalm”
As Nazi Germany retreated in 1944, it adopted a scorched-earth strategy—destroying entire cities to slow the Allied advance. Krakow, rich with historical and architectural heritage, was targeted for annihilation. German forces had already begun planting explosives throughout the city: industrial facilities, key infrastructure, and even the historic city center were rigged for detonation.
But salvation came from an unlikely source: a Ukrainian intelligence group operating deep behind enemy lines.
Leading that mission was Yevhen Berezniak, a former schoolteacher from Katerynoslav (now Dnipro), who had traded chalkboards for covert operations. Under the codename “Voice,” Berezniak commanded a three-person reconnaissance unit, including fellow Ukrainian Alexey Shapovalov from Kirovohrad. They parachuted into Nazi-occupied territory near Krakow in August 1944, tasked with uncovering German defense positions and demolition plans.
Their mission did not begin smoothly. Scattered during the landing, Berezniak was quickly captured by the Gestapo—but made a daring escape just days later. Reuniting with his team, he worked closely with local resistance fighters and began transmitting detailed intelligence back to the 1st Ukrainian Front. Over the next 156 days, the group sent over 140 encrypted messages revealing Nazi troop positions and, most critically, the exact locations of the explosives planted in Krakow.
Thanks to this intelligence, Soviet sappers were able to disarm the bombs before they could be triggered. Krakow was saved from certain destruction—not by chance, but by the courage and skill of Ukrainian operatives working in deadly conditions.
The success of Operation "Voice" was not just a military achievement; it was a deeply human story. It underscores how, even in a war defined by brutality, Ukrainians and Poles could find common ground in the fight for life and heritage.
For decades, his wartime Berezniak’s mission remained classified. It wasn’t until the early 2000s that he received official recognition as a Hero of Ukraine. He passed away in 2013, his legacy quietly etched into the streets of the city he helped save.
Amet-Khan Sultan: A Crimean Tatar Who Fought for Victory—and Justice
Video: Project Crimean Tatars in English
Amet-Khan Sultan was not only one of the Soviet Union’s most decorated fighter pilots in World War II—he was also a proud Crimean Tatar, a fact he never hid, even when it placed his life and legacy at risk. Born in 1920 in Alupka, Crimea, to a Crimean Tatar father and a Lak mother, he rose through the ranks of the Soviet Air Force to become a twice-awarded Hero of the Soviet Union. During the war, he flew nearly 600 combat missions, shot down 30 enemy planes in solo combat, and helped destroy 19 more in group engagements. His courage in the skies was undeniable—but behind it was an even more defiant act: his refusal to deny his origins.
While Sultan fought against Nazi Germany with unshakable loyalty, his own people were being targeted by the very government he served. In 1944, Stalin’s regime launched the mass deportation of the Crimean Tatars, accusing them—collectively and falsely—of collaboration with the Nazis. Nearly 200,000 were forcibly removed from their homeland, packed into cattle cars, and exiled to Central Asia. Many perished from starvation, disease, and abuse. Amet-Khan Sultan, however, was spared deportation only because of his Lak maternal heritage—yet he continued to proudly declare himself a Crimean Tatar, resisting pressure to conceal or renounce his identity.
Despite his heroism, the Soviet authorities never fully trusted Sultan. His name was left out of textbooks, his legacy quietly minimized, and his people erased from the map of Crimea. He was offered high political and military posts—but only if he disavowed his Tatar background. He refused. Instead, he returned to the skies as a test pilot, where he once again risked his life to improve Soviet aviation, logging more than 100 types of aircraft flights until his tragic death in a test flight in 1971.
Amet-Khan Sultan’s story is not just one of battlefield glory—it’s one of resistance, dignity, and defiance in the face of injustice. He embodied the best of wartime heroism while standing firmly against the Soviet attempt to erase his nation. Today, he is remembered not only as a flying ace, but as a symbol of Crimean Tatar resilience and pride—a man who helped defeat fascism abroad while fighting oppression at home.
Risking Everything: How Ukrainians Helped Jews Survive the Holocaust

Video: Awaken The Saint Project in partnership with Spoke Street Media and Awaken Catholic.
During the Holocaust, thousands of Ukrainians undertook extraordinary efforts to save Jewish lives, often at the risk of their own. Under Nazi occupation, any form of assistance to Jews—including sheltering, feeding, or even speaking out—was punishable by imprisonment or execution. Yet, amidst this climate of fear and violence, many Ukrainians acted with quiet heroism. One of the most effective survival strategies was helping Jews obtain false identities through Christian “legalization”—baptism, forged documents, or assumed names that could protect them from racial persecution.
In the central Ukrainian city of Kremenchuk, Mayor Volodymyr Verhovsky took an unconventional but lifesaving approach. He arranged for over a thousand Jews to be housed in specially built barracks on the outskirts of town. To shield them from Nazi deportations, some were baptized and given Christian names, effectively camouflaging their Jewish identity within the legal and religious framework of the time. This effort, though limited in scope, was a calculated act of defiance that saved many from the ghettos and death camps.
One of the most remarkable examples of such spiritual resistance was Father Omelian Kovch, a Greek Catholic priest serving in the town of Peremyshliany in Western Ukraine. Known for his compassion and unwavering moral principles, Father Kovch baptized more than 600 Jews, providing them with official church documents in hopes of shielding them from persecution. He did so in direct violation of Nazi orders and despite knowing the consequences. Arrested in 1943, he was eventually sent to the Majdanek concentration camp, where he continued to minister to inmates of all backgrounds until his death in 1944. In 2001, he was posthumously recognized as Righteous Among the Nations by Yad Vashem.
Beyond baptism, many Ukrainians resorted to other daring acts to protect their Jewish neighbors. Some entered fictitious marriages with Jews to provide them with legal protection. Others handed over their own identity papers, allowing Jews to adopt new personas and travel more safely across the occupied territories. These acts were not only risky but often irreversible—many rescuers were forced to live under assumed names themselves or go into hiding after helping others.
These stories—once hidden in family memories or local folklore—are now being documented as powerful examples of individual courage against a backdrop of genocidal horror. They remind us that even under a regime built on hatred, there were those who refused to surrender their humanity. In Ukraine, the legacy of these quiet resisters continues to inspire efforts to preserve the memory of Holocaust victims and honor those who stood up to protect them.