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<h2>28-Jun-1914 - Assassination in Sarajevo - Photos</h2>
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<img src="http://www.worldwar1.com/photos/sapis.jpg" height="133" width="200"></td>
<td><font size="-1">Colonel Apis of the <em>"Black Hand"</em> (center),
in reality Colonel Dimitrijevic of Serbian military intelligence. It is
believed he provided the training and weapons for the assassination.</font></td>
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<td align="center">
<img src="http://www.worldwar1.com/photos/sgprn2.jpg" height="160" width="157"></td>
<td><font size="-1">Gravilo Princip (right) and fellow conspirator
Trifko Grabez (left) sit with a friend in Belgrade's Kalmedgan Park. The
time is May, 1914.</font></td>
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<td align="center">
<img src="http://www.worldwar1.com/photos/hffarrv.jpg" height="140" width="157"></td>
<td><font size="-1">Archduke Franz Ferdinand and Sophie arrive at
Sarajevo City Hall accompanied by General Oskar Potiorek (right),
Military Governor of Bosnia.</font></td>
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<td align="center">
<img src="http://www.worldwar1.com/photos/hffcar2.jpg" height="150" width="220"></td>
<td><font size="-1">The couple leaving Sarajevo City Hall and entering
the car for the last time.</font></td>
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<img src="http://www.worldwar1.com/photos/gpcust.jpg" height="190" width="220"></td>
<td><font size="-1">Princip (second from right) in police custody.</font></td>
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<td align="center">
<img src="http://www.worldwar1.com/photos/hfffin.jpg" height="140" width="165"></td>
<td><font size="-1">The Archduke and Duchess lie in state in Sarajevo.</font></td>
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<td align="center">
<img src="http://www.worldwar1.com/photos/gprin.jpg" height="150" width="113"></td>
<td><font size="-1">The successful assassin, Gavrilo Princip.</font></td>
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<td colspan="2">
<center><strong>Eulogy from Vienna's <em>Die Fackel (The Torch)</em>,
10-Jul-1914</strong></center>
<hr size="2" width="60%">
<blockquote>
In this era so deplorable for humanity which in our Austrian
laboratory of the apocalypse is expressed by the grimace of
gemütlich sickliness - in such an era the Archduke had the measure
of a man. Only now, as Vienna mimics mourning, do we realize . . .
how much he disdained that indispensable affability used by the
powerful to promote their careers . . . He was no greeter. He had no
winning ways to charm the people past their grievances. He did show
character through his radical championship of the commonplace
against a fake modernity.
He proved himself by his taste. At his estate he opened to the
people a floral landscape intelligible on the most popular level, a
park with few rarefied pretensions . . . He was not part of the
fancy dynamics of Austrian decay . . . he wanted to rouse our era
from its sickness so that it would not sleep past its own death. Now
it sleeps past his.
</blockquote>
<p align="right">Karl Kraus</td>
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