another, Lata must have done quite well. Otherwise, why write a book about her?
The race that was designed as the ultimate test of manhood has been welcoming female jockeys for more
than 80 years
Yet that isn’t the whole story; or even, perhaps, its most remarkable feature. For a few months after the
race, Lata Brandisova was the most famous woman in Czechoslovakia; the most famous sportswoman in
Europe. She was interviewed, profiled, photographed, courted by the great and good. For her threatened
nation, she was a figurehead from the same mould as Joan of Arc. Yet when I first tried to write about her,
she was forgotten: even, with a few exceptions, among Czechs and race-goers. Her story had been relegated
to a footnote in the annals of sport. Why? What happened?
The answer is: more history. The Grand Pardubice steeplechase of 1937 was the last for almost a decade. In
1938, the Munich Agreement led to Czechoslovakia’s dismemberment. Then, in 1939, came invasion and
war. Lata’s was one of the first estates the Nazi occupiers seized. She had humiliated the Third Reich’s
finest warrior-horseman, and her family had subsequently been associated with some defiantly pro-Czech
public declarations. She had to be punished.
Hitler bowls into Prague in 1939 and the Nazis
seize Lata’s land. She had humiliated his
country’s horsemen and had to be punished
(AFP)She endured the resulting hardship uncomplainingly and – while a Waffen-SS cavalry regiment based on
the Equestrian SS was committing atrocities on horseback in the East – quietly did what she could to help
the Czech resistance. In May 1945, she risked her life to tend the wounded during the fight to liberate
Prague. In short, she had a good war.
She expected a good peace, too, but she was wrong. By 1945, memories of her 1937 triumph were already
beginning to fade. Soon afterwards, the communists came to power: partially following the 1946 elections;
totally following their 1948 coup d’état. Lata was identified as a class enemy. Her property, briefly restored
when the Nazis were defeated, was once again taken away. She was evicted from her home, which was
looted, and never saw it again. Instead, for nearly 30 years, she and two sisters lived in poverty and
obscurity in a tiny cottage in the woods, without electricity or running water.
She died forgotten. Eight years later, the Iron Curtain fell, and the achievements of people like Lata could
safely be celebrated again. By then, however, a new generation of race-goers had grown up who had never
heard of her. To most intents and purposes, her story remained lost. Had I not written Unbreakable, it
would still be lost today.