In order to occupy such a prestigious post, Heydrich is promoted to Obergruppenführer, the second-highest rank in the SS hierarchy—subordinate only to Himmler’s title of Reichsführer. The only rank that surpasses that is Oberstgruppenführer, and in September 1941 nobody has reached that level yet. (There will be only four Oberstgruppenführers by the end of the war.)
So Heydrich savors this decisive step in his irresistible if somewhat meandering rise. He phones his wife, who is not very taken by the idea of moving to Prague. (She claims to have said to him: “Oh, if only you’d become a postman!” But she is so conceited and complacent that it is hard to imagine her ever having such a regret.) Heydrich replies: “Try to understand what this means to me. It’ll be a change from doing all the dirty work! Finally, I will be something more than the Reich’s dustbin!” The Reich’s dustbin: so that’s how he defined his duties as head of the Gestapo and the SD. Duties, by the way, that he would continue to fulfill with the same efficiency as before.
Heydrich arrives in Prague the day that his appointment is announced to the Czech people. His airplane, a three-engined Junkers 52, lands at Ruzyne Airport around noon.
He goes to the Esplanade Hotel, one of the most beautiful in town, but he obviously doesn’t spend long there, because that same evening Himmler is able to read his colleague’s report, sent by teleprinter:
At 15:10, ex–prime minister Eliáš was arrested, as arranged.
At 18:00, also as arranged, the arrest of ex-minister Havelka took place.
At 19:00, Czech radio announced my appointment by the Führer.
Eliáš and Havelka are being interrogated now. For diplomatic reasons, I must convene a special assembly in order to bring Eliáš to justice before a popular tribunal.
Eliáš and Havelka are the two most important members of the Czech government that is collaborating with the Germans under Hácha’s presidency. They have nonetheless maintained regular contact with Beneš in London—a fact known to Heydrich’s spies. This is why they are immediately condemned to death. Although, after thinking about it, Heydrich decides not to execute the sentence straightaway. It is, of course, only a temporary reprieve.
The next morning, at eleven o’clock, Heydrich’s investiture takes place in Hradčany Castle, or Hradchine, as the Germans call it. The vile Karl Hermann Frank—the Sudeten bookseller turned SS general and secretary of state—greets Heydrich amid great pomp in the castle courtyard. An orchestra, summoned for the occasion, plays the Nazi hymn “Horst Wessel Lied.” Then Heydrich inspects the troops while a second banner is hoisted next to the swastika that flies above the castle and the town: a black flag embossed with two runic
That same day, two great leaders of the Czech Resistance are executed: General Josef Bilý and Major General Hugo Vojta. They were found guilty of fomenting an armed uprising. Before his death, General Bilý shouts: “Long live the Czechoslovak Republic! Now shoot me, you dogs!” These two men—yes, two more—do not really have a role to play in my story. But I felt it would be disrespectful not to even mention their names.
Along with Bilý and Vojta, nineteen former Czech army officers are killed, four of them generals. The crackdown begins in the days that follow. A state of emergency is declared throughout the country. All gatherings, indoors or out, are forbidden in accordance with martial law. The courts now have only two options, whatever the charges: acquittal or death. Czechs are sentenced to death for distributing pamphlets, selling goods on the black market, or simply listening to foreign radio stations. Each new law is announced by a red poster in two languages, and soon the town’s walls are filled with them. The Czechs learn quickly who their new master is.
And the Jews, of course, learn even more quickly. On September 29, Heydrich closes all the synagogues and announces the arrest of any Czechs who, in protest against the recent law forcing Jews to wear a yellow star, decide to sport them in sympathy. In France, a year later, there will be similar shows of solidarity, and anyone imprudent enough to take part will be deported “with their Jewish friends.” In the Protectorate, however, all of this is only a prelude.
On October 2, 1941, at Czernin Palace—now the Savoy Hotel—situated at the end of the castle’s enclosure, Heydrich sets out his political creed as interim Protector of Bohemia and Moravia. Standing with his hands on a wooden pulpit, his iron cross hanging over his heart, his wedding ring visible on his left hand, he addresses the leaders of the occupation forces. He wishes to educate his compatriots: