The Nun Who Poisoned 50 SS Officers: The Untold Story of Resistance and Redemption

In the chilling days of March 1945, amidst the horrors of World War II, a 52-year-old nun named Sister Maria Antonyina took a stand that would shake the very foundations of the war. Known for her quiet devotion to prayer and service, Sister Maria made an extraordinary decision that would save hundreds of lives and forever mark her as one of the most unlikely heroes of the war. With a pot of vegetable soup and a vial of poison, she changed the course of history. This is the story of how she took on the Nazis—and won.

The Context of Desperation: A Silent Witness to Horror

In September 1939, Poland became the focal point of Nazi brutality. Warsaw was bombed, and the country’s Jewish population faced unimaginable suffering. Convents that were once places of refuge became occupied spaces, their sacred missions twisted by Nazi control. The Convent of the Sacred Heart in Posen, where Sister Maria served, was no exception. Initially, the nuns continued their work of charity, but everything changed when the Nazis took over. The convent was transformed into a rest facility for SS officers—those who had perpetrated some of the worst atrocities of the war.

For five years, Sister Maria and the other nuns were forced to serve these men, preparing meals, cleaning uniforms stained with blood, and listening to stories of genocide told casually over dinner. Every day, she witnessed the cruelty that these officers were responsible for—yet, she was powerless to intervene. Or so it seemed.

The Turning Point: From Silence to Action

The atrocities continued unabated. In January 1945, Sister Maria witnessed something that would change her forever. A group of Jewish prisoners, weak and freezing from exposure, were marched in front of the convent on their way to a labor camp. As one young woman collapsed in the snow, an SS officer walked over and, without hesitation, shot her in the head. It was a moment of cold indifference—one that shattered something inside Sister Maria.

For the first time, she realized that her prayers, her silence, and her obedience were not acts of faith but acts of cowardice. As she witnessed the murder of the young woman, Sister Maria understood that she could no longer remain passive. If God would not intervene, then she would. But she knew that any act of resistance would come at a great personal cost.

The Decision: To Serve Justice or Obey

By March 1945, the war was nearing its end. The Red Army was advancing from the east, the Allies from the west, and the Nazis were losing ground fast. Yet the SS officers stationed at the convent continued to indulge in lavish Sunday lunches, celebrating victories that no longer existed. They were unaware that these lunches would be their last.

Sister Maria saw an opportunity to act. Every Sunday, the officers gathered for a communal meal, and every Sunday, Sister Maria prepared the soup. It was a ritual. The officers would sit at the long oak table, eating and drinking, and she would serve them without question. This Sunday, however, everything would change.

Sister Maria had prepared her famous vegetable soup, but this time, she added something different—a poison she had sourced from the convent’s storeroom. The poison, arsenic triioxide, was fast-acting and deadly. She carefully calculated the amount to ensure that every officer at the table would consume a lethal dose. She knew the risks—if one officer refused the soup, if one suspected something was wrong, her plan would fail, and she would be executed immediately. But she couldn’t back down. She had to do it.

The Execution: Poisoning the SS

The officers arrived, unaware of what awaited them. They laughed, drank, and praised Sister Maria’s soup. One officer even asked for a second helping. But soon, the symptoms began. The first officer stood up, clutching his stomach. He stumbled out of the room, followed by more officers who began to feel ill. Within minutes, chaos erupted. The officers were writhing in pain, vomiting blood, and collapsing onto the floor. Some died within hours, while others lingered in agony for days. By the end of the ordeal, 47 of the 50 officers who ate the soup were dead.

Sister Maria, who had spent years in quiet submission, had taken control of her own fate—and the fate of many others. But the cost of her actions would be steep. In retaliation for the deaths of the officers, the Nazis rounded up 200 male civilians from the surrounding area and executed them. Sister Maria understood the gravity of what she had done. She had killed 47 officers, but her actions had led to the deaths of 200 innocent men. The guilt would haunt her for the rest of her life.

The Escape: A Quiet Hero

Sister Maria knew that she would not be spared. The Nazis would surely come for her, and when they did, they would kill her and everyone associated with her. But she had prepared for this moment. Hidden in her room was a small bundle—a set of civilian clothes, a forged identity card, and a map leading to an escape route.

Under the cover of night, Sister Maria fled the convent, her heart heavy with guilt and fear. She knew that if she were caught, she would be tortured, and the other nuns would suffer as well. She traveled through forests and fields, evading German patrols, until she reached a small farmhouse where resistance fighters had arranged for her to meet them.

The journey was perilous. Sister Maria had no survival training, no weapons, and no real understanding of how to navigate through a war-torn country. But she was determined to survive and to make sure that the world knew what she had done.

The Aftermath: The Silence of History

Sister Maria eventually made it to safety and spent time in a British field hospital recovering from the exhaustion and malnutrition she had suffered. But when she was interviewed by British intelligence, she refused to allow her story to be made public. She did not want to be a hero. She did not want to be remembered as the nun who killed 47 SS officers. She wanted to fade into obscurity.

Her story, like so many other acts of resistance during the war, was buried. Sister Maria lived the rest of her life in quiet devotion, never speaking of what she had done. But her name, once lost to history, was uncovered by a historian years later who stumbled upon a declassified report detailing her actions.

Sister Maria’s story reminds us of the quiet heroes of World War II, those who did not fight with weapons or military strategy but with the power of ordinary acts of defiance. Her decision to kill 47 officers was not made out of hatred, but out of a sense of justice—justice that was denied by a brutal, genocidal regime.

Conclusion:

Sister Maria Antonyina’s story is not one of glorified heroism, but of moral complexity, courage, and sacrifice. She made a choice to act when silence and prayer were no longer enough. Her actions, though controversial and tragic, saved countless lives, and her legacy is a testament to the power of quiet resistance. While history may have tried to erase her, the truth about her bravery and sacrifice lives on.