Johnny Krčmař: Cold War hero and East European charmer

I knew Johnny as my assistant when I was a correspondent in Prague in 1972-74. He was the son of a Czech diplomat who was posted in London when WWII broke out, and the family stayed there for the duration. Hence his polished command of English.

Back in Prague, the new Communist regime sent Johnny to work in a steel mill to learn proletarian ways. After de-Stalinisation, he could take up work as a translator and journalist - in 1968 with CTK, the Czechoslovak news agency. When invading Soviet soldiers burst into the newsroom, Johnny fired off a last message warning the world that nothing put out from then on by CTK would be authentic.

As a bachelor around 40, handsome and debonair, women competed for his favours. During this time, I met the fiery, beautiful Petra, who deservedly triumphed in the end and became his wife. Also his redoubtable mother, who would sit in the Reuters office, microphones and all, voicing her vitriolic contempt for all things Communist.

Besides guiding me through the Czech language, Johnny was a discreet link to the surviving "Prague Spring" liberals, who were being sent to prison one after the other in sham trials. I was not allowed in the courtrooms, but Johnny would appear an hour or two later to tell me what "they say". "They" being the families of the convicted dissidents, who were allowed in. Like that, I had chapter and verse of the proceedings, all on the basis of what "they say". Hardly what one teaches in journalism schools, but heck, there's a real world out there, and I never got caught out. Thank you, Johnny.

Prague was tough for dissidents, but made enjoyable for newcomers by locals who relished showing how to trick the system. Johnny was one such.

What I did find difficult about Johnny was his surname. Five consonants and one vowel. And not Krcmar, but Krčmař. The č was easy enough = tch. But I spent all my assignment getting my tongue around ř. It's something like ... rrrzzhh. When he finally went to live in Vienna, he told me he called himself Kromar. Heck again. ■