What Happened to Reinhard Heydrich’s Family After WW2…
Reinhard Heydrich died in June 1942, but the shadow he cast did not. His widow, Lina, and their children remained tied to one of the most feared figures of the Third Reich long after the war was over. When Germany collapsed in 1945, they lost their estate, their protection, and their place in Hitler’s world. What followed were years of interrogations, legal battles, and a life lived under a name many wished to forget. Reinhard Heydrich met Lina von Osten in late 1930 at a rowing-club event in Kiel.
The connection was immediate. Early 1931 brought a turning point. Heydrich faced a naval inquiry for becoming engaged to Lina while still committed to another woman. Admiral Erich Raeder dismissed him from the Navy that April, bringing his career to an abrupt end. The dismissal pushed him toward a new path. Encouraged by Lina’s political beliefs and her early ties to the movement, he joined the Nazi Party and a couple of weeks later the SS, an organization where his ambition and discipline were quickly noticed.
Their marriage in December 1931 marked the beginning of the partnership that would shape both his rise and the fate of the family he left behind. In May 1942, Heydrich was serving as Acting Reichsprotektor of Bohemia and Moravia, overseeing harsh security measures in Prague. On 27 May 1942, Czech resistance agents trained in Britain attacked his open-top car while he was traveling to his office. Heydrich survived the initial blast but developed a severe infection after surgery. Despite efforts to stabilize him, his condition deteriorated rapidly.
He died on 4 June 1942 in Prague. His death led to large-scale reprisals ordered by Nazi authorities and marked the beginning of profound changes for his family. For Lina and the children, the impact was immediate. His death left his widow, Lina, with four children: Klaus, Heider, Silke and Marte. In the months that followed, Hitler kept his promise to support the family. He confirmed their right to the estate at Jungfern-Breschan, located in occupied Czechoslovakia. The property symbolized Heydrich’s status in the SS hierarchy and remained the center of family life for the rest of the war.
Life at the estate continued with a sense of privilege and isolation. Lina hosted events for SS families and maintained social ties within the Nazi elite. She remained loyal to her husband’s memory and upheld the ideological world he had helped build. The final months of the war brought rapid changes. With Soviet forces approaching Prague, Lina and her children fled west toward Bavaria. They crossed into what soon became the American occupation zone, joining thousands of other German refugees who had lost their homes.
By the end of 1945, Lina and the children had settled temporarily in Aschau im Chiemgau, Bavaria. Their circumstances were far removed from the status they once held. They relied on small stipends, support from extended family, and temporary housing arranged by local authorities. The loss of property, income, and political protection marked the start of a new phase in their lives, one defined by investigations, denazification hearings, and a struggle to rebuild an identity in postwar Germany. In the aftermath of the war, denazification became the central process shaping Lina’s life.
From 1946 onward, she faced a series of hearings in Bavaria designed to determine her political responsibility and eligibility for public benefits. The tribunals examined her early support for National Socialism, her marriage to a senior SS official, and the material advantages she had received during the Third Reich. Lina had joined the Nazi Party in 1931, well before Hitler’s rise to power. She later described this as an act of idealism, claiming she had been swept up by enthusiasm for national renewal.
Investigators noted that her early membership suggested conviction, not coercion. They also emphasized her close involvement in elite SS social circles, which gave her access to political networks and influence. Lina rejected this interpretation, repeatedly insisting she had played no part in her husband’s work. By 1949, Lina had been classified as a Mitläuferin, a “follower”, rather than an active supporter. This status allowed her to avoid major penalties. She still faced financial hardship, having lost the family estate in Czechoslovakia and possessing no formal occupation.
Throughout the late 1940s, she sought recognition as the widow of a German officer, which would entitle her to a pension under German law. Her case hinged on a technical question: Was Reinhard Heydrich, despite his SS rank, still considered a member of the German military at the time of his death? In 1954, a Munich court delivered a controversial decision. The judges ruled that Heydrich, as the chief of the Reich Security Main Office (RSHA), had still held a qualifying status under military service regulations.
This meant that Lina was entitled to a widow’s pension. The decision sparked public debate. Critics argued that a man widely known as one of the regime’s most powerful and feared security officials should not be treated as a fallen soldier. Supporters of the ruling emphasized the narrow legal criteria involved, not moral judgment. The ruling became a touchstone in broader discussions about postwar justice and memory. Some scholars question whether Lina’s testimony, which portrayed her as a politically passive wife, influenced the outcome more than it should have.
Others argue the courts were bound by legislative definitions that made no room for moral considerations. Either way, the pension provided Lina with financial stability at a time when many former Nazi families were struggling to rebuild their lives. By the early 1950s, Lina Heydrich had completed the formal stages of denazification. She was legally permitted to work, travel, and receive state support. With her pension secured after the 1954 Munich ruling, she began rebuilding her life in a new direction.
The family eventually settled on the island of Fehmarn, off the northern coast of West Germany. There, Lina opened a guesthouse called the Pension Imbria, which became both her livelihood and a hub for her social network. Running the pension brought Lina into contact with tourists, locals, and former acquaintances from her pre-1945 life. Several reports note that she maintained ties with families connected to the SS elite. Her loyalty to her husband, and to the worldview they shared, remained unmistakable.
She often portrayed herself as a misunderstood victim of the postwar climate. In interviews, she emphasized the hardships she faced as a widow and mother, while downplaying or dismissing the broader consequences of the regime her husband served. In 1976, Lina published her memoir, Life with a War Criminal. The book drew immediate attention. Critics argued that it presented an incomplete and selective account of Reinhard Heydrich’s role in the RSHA. They noted that Lina shifted blame away from her husband, questioned historical evidence, and emphasized his private qualities rather than his public actions.
Historians still debate whether the memoir reflects genuine conviction, strategic self-presentation, or a mix of both. Public interest in Lina resurfaced in the 1970s and 1980s, when journalists and researchers traveled to Fehmarn to interview her. One account, later cited in CrimeReads’ feature “Interview with the Hangman’s Wife” and based on journalist Nancy Dougherty’s recorded conversations with Lina, described her firm defense of Reinhard Heydrich and her belief that history had judged him unfairly. According to Dougherty’s interviews, Lina spoke with sharp recall and unwavering conviction, recounting details of her husband’s life with precision.
Observers noted that she showed little willingness to reinterpret the past, presenting a portrait of a woman whose beliefs remained unchanged. The debates surrounding her public statements touched on a broader question: how should postwar societies handle the testimonies of individuals who remained loyal to discredited regimes? Some scholars argue that Lina’s interviews provide insight into the mindset of families associated with the SS. Others caution that her accounts must be treated carefully, as they often challenge established historical research. The truth varies depending on whether one prioritizes archival documents, personal testimony, or scholarly interpretation.
By the early 1980s, Lina’s health had begun to decline, though she remained active in her guesthouse as long as possible. Her final years on Fehmarn were relatively quiet, marked by visits from friends and occasional discussions with researchers. She died on 14 August 1985, at age 73. Her death closed a chapter that had spanned the rise of the Third Reich, its collapse, and four decades of postwar Germany. Her legacy remains controversial. To some, she symbolizes the persistence of loyalty among families tied to Nazi leadership.
To others, she represents the complexities of postwar identity and the challenges Germany faced in reconciling personal narratives with historical responsibility The postwar years reshaped the lives of the Heydrich children in ways none of them could have anticipated. Their father’s reputation, their mother’s loyalty, and the loss of their estate placed them in a difficult position in a society reckoning with its past. Each child followed a different path, shaped by personal choices and the weight of their surname. The eldest son, Klaus, did not live to see the end of the war.
Tragedy struck the family in October 1943. Klaus died in a traffic accident near the estate when he collided with a delivery truck while riding his bicycle. His death was a devastating blow to Lina, who mentioned it repeatedly in later interviews. Hitler sent condolences, and SS figures attended the funeral. Heider Heydrich became the most publicly known of the surviving children. After the family fled to Bavaria in 1945, he completed his schooling in the region and later pursued a career as an engineer.
For decades, Heider avoided public attention and declined interviews, choosing to keep his distance from discussions about his father’s role in the war. In 2009, he made a rare exception and agreed to speak with John Martin, the author of The Mirror Caught the Sun: Operation Anthropoid 1942. In that conversation, he adopted a notably defensive stance toward his father. In 2011, Heider briefly returned to public attention after he offered to support the restoration of the former family residence at Panenské Břežany.
The proposal drew strong reactions in the Czech Republic, where the property remains closely associated with his father’s wartime administration. Local officials noted that Heider had left the estate as a child in 1945 and viewed his offer as an attempt to help preserve a historic site. Public response, however, reflected a wider discomfort with any initiative linked to the Heydrich name. Some commentators argued that restoring the property with his involvement risked overlooking the suffering experienced under Nazi occupation, while others saw the gesture as a possible form of acknowledgment rather than tribute.
The two youngest children, Silke and Marte, maintained far more private lives. Reliable information about Silke is scarce. One unconfirmed online report suggests she may have emigrated to the United States, but no verified sources support this. Marte, who now goes by the name Beyer, still lives on Fehmarn, where she owns a small clothing shop. Like her brother, she does not give interviews. She never knew her father and has said she knows little about him. In one remark published in the German magazine STERN, she noted that people cannot imagine what it is like to have such a father, and that his name follows her day and night.
Family perspectives vary. Marte’s son, Reinhard, has expressed the view that no one truly knows the full extent of what his grandfather did. By contrast, Peter Thomas Heydrich, the son of Reinhard’s brother Heinz, has stated publicly that he finds it unfortunate that Reinhard’s children never distanced themselves from their father’s actions or acknowledged, even symbolically, the suffering experienced under his authority. These differing views highlight the complexity of navigating the Heydrich legacy within the extended family. What is clear is that none of the surviving Heydrich children became involved in extremist politics or public advocacy related to the Third Reich.
Their lives differed sharply from the public legacy embraced by their mother. While Lina defended Reinhard Heydrich until her death, the children chose paths that offered privacy and normalcy rather than public confrontation or ideological alignment.
