Protector himself.16
Although proud to be selected for such an important task, both Gabčík
and Kubiš knew that they were highly unlikely to survive their mission.
The journey to the Protectorate across Nazi-controlled continental Europe
was extraordinarily dangerous in itself and even if they arrived safely in
Prague and completed their mission, there was no escape plan. The two
agents would remain underground until they were either killed or captured
or until Prague was liberated from Nazi rule. Both chose to make their
wills on 28 December 1941, the night their flight departed from Tangmere
aerodrome, a secret RAF base in Sussex.17
The heavily laden Halifax, carrying nine parachutists and the crew,
crossed the Channel into the dark skies over Nazi-occupied France before
continuing its journey over Germany. Repeated attacks by German anti-
aircraft batteries and Luftwaffe nightfighter planes interrupted the journey,
but they finally arrived over the Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia
shortly after 2 a.m. Heavy snow on the ground made it impossible for the
pilot to identify the designated dropping zones for the three teams.
Although instructed to aim for Pilsen (Plzeň), where the parachutists
were supposed to make contact with local members of the Czech resist-
ance, the pilot accidentally dropped Gabčík and Kubiš into a snowy field
near the village of Nehvizdy, some thirty kilometres east of Prague. Their
contact addresses were now useless.
There were other problems, too: Gabčík seriously injured his ankle
during the landing and he rightly suspected that their arrival had not gone
unnoticed. Because of the lack of visibility, the Halifax had descended to
an altitude of just over 150 metres before dropping off the parachutists
D E AT H I N P R AG U E
7
and the bomber’s heavy motors had roused half the village inhabitants
from their sleep. At least two villagers saw the parachutes float down to
earth. According to all the rules of probability, the Gestapo would pick up
their trail sooner or later.18 Luck, however, was on the parachutists’ side
that day. A local gamekeeper, sympathetic to the national cause, was the
first to find them. After seeing their parachutes buried in the snow he
followed their footprints to an abandoned quarry. He was soon joined by
the local miller of Nehvizdy, Břetislav Baumann, who happened to be a
member of a Czech resistance group and who put them in touch with
comrades in Prague.19 Baumann would pay dearly for helping the assas-
sins. After Heydrich’s death, he and his wife were arrested and sent to
Mauthausen concentration camp where they were murdered.20
Shortly after the New Year, Gabčík and Kubiš took the train to Prague
where they spent the next five months moving among various safe houses
provided by ÚVOD. Their equipment, which included grenades, pistols
and a sten gun, fol owed. In search of an ideal spot to carry out the assas-
sination, they spent weeks walking or cycling around Prague Castle,
Heydrich’s country estate and the road that Heydrich used to commute
between the two. By early February, they had identified a seemingly
ideal spot for an attack: a sharp hairpin curve in the Prague suburb of
Liběn where Heydrich passed by on his daily commute to work. The
location seemed perfect as Heydrich’s car would have to slow down to
walking pace at the hairpin bend, al owing Gabčík and Kubiš to shoot
their target from close quarters. There was also a bus stop just behind the
bend where the assassins could wait for Heydrich’s car without arousing
suspicion.21
Yet the apparent ease with which the parachutists had managed to
infiltrate the Protectorate made them less cautious than they should have
been in the circumstances. Both Gabčík and Kubiš began sexual affairs
with women they met through the families that offered them shelter, thus
violating all rules of secrecy. Numerous persons and families who
Rebecca Berto, Lauren McKellar