29 December 1941: When Anthropoid, Silver A and Silver B Entered the Protectorate
The story of Operation Anthropoid does not begin in Prague.
It begins in the air — inside a single aircraft flying toward almost certain death.
On the night of 28–29 December 1941, a Handley Page Halifax Mk.II bomber crossed the border of the Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia. On board were fifteen men:
- eight Czechoslovak paratroopers, divided into three elite resistance groups
- seven RAF aircrew, who volunteered to fly them deep into Nazi-occupied Europe
If the aircraft had been shot down, everyone would have died.
There was no second plane. No rescue. No margin for error.
That night, three major resistance operations shared one fuselage:
- ANTHROPOID
- SILVER A
- SILVER B
Placing all three teams on a single aircraft broke every safety principle of clandestine warfare. One successful German interception would have erased months of preparation and crippled several resistance missions in a single moment.
German anti-aircraft batteries engaged the Halifax.
Searchlights cut through cloud and darkness.
Flak exploded close enough to shake the aircraft.
The crew kept flying.
Against probability, the Halifax survived and turned back toward England.
The men who jumped from it would not.
The Aircraft and the Crew: Who Flew Them Into Occupied Europe
The drops were carried out by a Handley Page Halifax Mk.II of No. 138 Squadron RAF, the unit responsible for Special Duties flights into occupied Europe.
RAF crew on board that night:
- F/O Ronald Clifford Hockey, DFC – Pilot and aircraft commander
- W/O Wilkin
- F/Sgt Holden
- Sgt Burke
- Sgt Berwick
- Sgt Walton
- Sgt Hughes
These men knowingly flew into heavily defended airspace in winter conditions, carrying human cargo that would not be returning. Their role is often overlooked — yet without them, nothing that followed would have been possible.
One Night, Three Missions
All three resistance groups were dispatched on the same night, each with a mission essential to the wider struggle.
Operation ANTHROPOID
Members:
- Jozef (Josef) Gabčík
- Jan Kubiš
Anthropoid’s task was singular and extreme: the assassination of Reinhard Heydrich, Acting Reich Protector, head of the RSHA, and one of the chief architects of Nazi terror.
Planned drop zone: west Bohemia, near Plzeň (Ejpovice/Rokycany area)
Actual landing: near Nehvizdy, east of Prague
Wrong location.
Unknown terrain.
Enemy territory.
Nehvizdy — today a quiet village — became the first physical stage of Operation Anthropoid. This is where the mission stopped being a plan and became a matter of survival.
Operation SILVER A
Members:
- Alfréd Bartoš (leader)
- Josef Valčík
- Jiří Potůček
Silver A’s mission was to establish and maintain radio communication with London — the lifeline of the resistance.
Planned drop zone: Vyžice, Chrudim region
Actual landing: near Senice, between Poděbrady and Městec Králové (approx. 40 km off course)
Despite the failed landing, Silver A succeeded in establishing contact. Without their transmitter, the resistance inside the Protectorate — including Anthropoid — would have been isolated and blind.
Operation SILVER B
Members:
- Jan Zemek
- Vladimír Škácha
Silver B’s mission was plagued by misfortune from the start.
Planned drop zone: Ždírec nad Doubravou
Actual landing: near Kasaličky, close to Lázně Bohdaneč (almost 50 km off course)
Lost contacts, technical failures, and isolation followed. Their experience shows the brutal reality of clandestine warfare: courage did not guarantee success. Survival itself was uncertain.
Missed Drop Zones and Immediate Danger
Due to cloud cover, snow on the ground, and navigation errors, none of the three groups landed where they were meant to.
This was not a minor inconvenience.
Each team had pre-arranged couriers, safe houses, and resistance contacts waiting at specific locations. Missing them meant entering the Protectorate blind — without shelter, without guidance, and with only what they carried.
In occupied territory, this often meant capture within days.
That none of the teams was seized immediately is remarkable.
Nehvizdy: Where Anthropoid Touched Ground
After landing near Nehvizdy, Gabčík and Kubiš hid first in the landscape — fields, woods, abandoned places — before attempting contact.
Without local help, the mission would likely have ended there.
Instead, civilians chose to assist them: to give directions, to stay silent, to help them move onward. These first moments around Nehvizdy marked the transition from an airborne operation to a human one — where survival depended not on weapons, but on trust.
Today, Nehvizdy openly acknowledges its role. A parachute-shaped memorial, unveiled in 2021, commemorates the landing of Operation Anthropoid and the courage of those involved.
For visitors today, Nehvizdy is not a footnote.
It is the beginning.
The Sokol Network: The Ground That Caught Them
What saved Anthropoid after Nehvizdy was not luck, but the resistance already embedded in society.
The Sokol movement was far more than a gymnastics organization. Before the war, it was a nationwide civic network rooted in discipline, education, and trust. Under occupation, it became one of the most resilient underground resistance structures in the Protectorate.
One of the first crucial contacts was Václav Hejnský, operating under the cover name “Zelený.” Through him, Gabčík and Kubiš were connected to a wider Sokol-based network capable of providing:
- shelter
- false identities
- food and clothing
- intelligence
- access to Prague safe houses
Taking resistance paratroopers into one’s home was not symbolic bravery. It was a potential death sentence — for entire families.
And yet doors opened.
Early Safe Houses and the Moravec Family
Among the most important early safe houses was the apartment of Marie Moravcová — later remembered simply as “Auntie Moravec.”
Her home became a place of warmth, food, and temporary safety for Anthropoid operatives, long before betrayal, arrest, and tragedy followed.
At the time, none of that was known.
What mattered was that ordinary civilians accepted extraordinary risk without hesitation.
“A Belated Christmas Gift That Fell From the Sky”
For many within the resistance — particularly women active in Sokol networks — the arrival of the paratroopers carried immense emotional weight.
After months of executions, repression, and silence, these men were proof that the Czechoslovak government-in-exile had not abandoned the Protectorate.
They called the paratroopers:
“A belated Christmas gift that fell from the sky.”
The phrase was not naïve. It was defiant.
Many of the same women who welcomed them would later be executed at Mauthausen, following Heydrich’s assassination. Their joy was brief — but it was real.
What Began That Night
On 29 December 1941, resistance inside the Protectorate became physical and irreversible.
That night led to:
- months of concealment and preparation
- the tightening circle around Heydrich
- the assassination attempt on 27 May 1942
- the terror reprisals that followed, including Lidice
- and the final stand on 18 June 1942
But none of that can be understood without this beginning.
Three groups.
One aircraft.
Wrong drop zones.
And civilians who chose to help, knowing the price.
History often remembers explosions.
Resistance usually begins with a door quietly opening.