a submachine gun and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened: the gun jammed. Kubis stepped out from the other side of the road and threw a grenade, but it fell well short of the rear of the car. Heydrich was soon on his feet, very much alive. Gabcik escaped on foot whereas Kubis got away from Heydrichs SS bodyguard on a borrowed bicycle. The bicycle was later traced to a family who would soon be sent to a place from where few returned: Terezin. A 45-minute drive north of Prague, Terezin is an 18th-century fortress town built in the shape of a star. More than 150,000 Jews and several thousand political prisoners were brought here by the Nazis. Just metres from the gate of death a short tunnel that led to the execution zone youll stumble upon a disused swimming pool, built by starving prisoners for the commandants family to enjoy. In all, about 35,000 men, women and children died in the squalid condi- tions of the Terezin ghetto, and 87,000 more including households who had sheltered the would-be assassins in the months before the attack passed through here on their way to die in other concentration camps. In the church crypt in Prague, good news reached the paratroopers eight days after the bungled assassination attempt. Horsehair from the cars back seat had entered Heydrichs body as the grenade detonated and was the probable cause of the infection that eventually killed him, on June 4, 1942. Hitlers desire for vengeance knew no bounds. The memorials and museum at Lidice, a 25-minute drive northwest of Prague and a must-see for the historically inclined, chronicle what happened next. Early in the morning of June 10 the vill- ages 173 men (defined as aged 15 and up) were put in front of a police firing squad specially selected for the task: its members had travelled 300km from Halle an der Saale, in Germany Heydrichs birthplace. Most of the women of Lidice would die in concentration camps. Eighty-two child- ren were loaded into the back of a lorry and gassed to death by exhaust fumes. Today, the faces of those children look out from heart-rending memorial statues. The Nazis destroyed the village, even removing the foundations of almost every building. After they had finished off the living, they dug up the headstones and coffins in the village graveyard. They realised, however, that there were still signs of life in Lidice: thats when they uprooted all the trees. The hill where the village once stood is now covered in grass and punctuated with memorials, including a rose garden and trees. The foundations of the church and school the only remnants of the original village make for an arresting sight. Half a kilometre away, the new village of Lidice hosts a gallery that commemorates the child victims of war through annual exhibitions of artwork by school pupils from all over the world, including China. But why Lidice? The assassins were not connected to the village. The truth is, Lidice was chosen because of illicit sex. An adulterer wrote to his lover seeking a heroic exit from their affair, so he gave the impression he was involved in patri- otic resistance activities that would force him away. The letter was intercepted and the couple arrested. Desperate to give the Gestapo, the Nazis secret police, some- thing they wanted to hear, the couple said they knew of a man from Lidice who fought in Britains armed forces. It was a false lead, but the fate of the people of Lidice had been decided. Eight days after Lidice was razed, before the sun rose on June 18, the SS surrounded the Church of Saints Cyril and Methodius. Thick bullet holes still pockmark the stonework surrounding the crypts street window. Inside, flowers and messages from all over the world adorn the beginnings of a tunnel, less than two metres deep, which the Czechoslovak paratroopers had burrowed in a frantic attempt to forge an escape route. Each paratrooper fought down to his last bullet which he saved for himself. To stand in that cool cellar today is to stand among martyred heroes from a region that provided more than its fair share. For more on the authors novel A Chance Kill, visit www.paulletters.com. May 25, 2014 Post Magazine 55 Clockwise from far left: ancient spires make up the Prague skyline; bridges, including the 14th- century Charles Bridge (centre), straddle the River Vltava; bullet holes pepper the crypt win- dow of the Church of Saints Cyril and Methodius, the hiding place of Reinhard Heydrichs would-be assassins; SS security chief Heydrich; an archway at the former Terezin concentration camp bears an inscription that translates as Work makes you free; a memorial to the murdered children of Lidice.