CZECHOSLOVAKIA: The Ordeal of Karl Horak

Karl Horak lingered longer than usual over his glass of wine in a Prague café, and because he tarried, missed the bus that would have dropped him at his home town. No matter; he could walk; it was not far. He got a lift part way, then took a short cut through the woods.

Near dawn he reached the wood’s edge, saw a German patrol. Surprised, he hid in the underbrush until the Nazis passed. Then, as the sun rose, he saw horror in the shallow valley sheltering the town. The town was Lidice, and Karl Horak saw it die (TIME, June 22-, 1942). Of Lidice’s 1,200 human beings Horak, so far as he knew, was the only one who escaped the Nazis’ savage reprisal after the killing of Gestapoman Reinhard Heydrich.

Horak got back to Prague. Underground leaders, knowing he was marked for death, and anxious to preserve history, started him on a long, dangerous journey to the Czech Government in Exile in London.

For twelve months Karl Horak wandered over Europe, working his way westward. Always the Czech Government anxiously followed his trail, while the underground strained to keep him one step ahead of the Gestapo. Last week came news that the trail had faded out three months ago, somewhere in France. Whether the Gestapo finally caught up with Karl Horak, whether his memories proved too much for him, none knew.