In February 1914 General Oskar Potiorek, Military Governor of the recently-annexed provinces of Bosnia and Herçegovina, had officially extended to the Inspector-General of Armed Forces an invitation to attend the summer's military manoeuvres near Sarajevo. Franz Ferdinand had accepted; it would keep him away from Vienna, and ... capitalizing on Franz Josef's mood following his recent recovery, on 4th June the Thronfolger had extracted the concession from the Emperor that he could be accompanied – this time in an official capacity – by Sophie. Prior to the meeting with the Emperor Franz Ferdinand seemed to be subject to some strange premonition that he would not return alive from the manoeuvres in Bosnia. How, Where and Why this feeling came about may forever remain a mystery, but the possibility of having Sophie at his side seemed to override his sense of fatalism for it livened him up no end. Her company at military manoeuvres was already a boost to his constitution after overcoming his own tuberculosis, to enjoy her presence during the state visit to Sarajevo after the manoeuvres would certainly lighten his burden. It would also be a two-fingered gesture to the hateful Fürst Montenuovo. Who perhaps gnashed his teeth three days later when the Thronfolger and his consort received applause from the crowds upon entering the Imperial Box together at the Derby at Freudenau racetrack in Vienna's Praterpark. Small wonder, perhaps, that friends and observers noted a visible spring in Franz Ferdinand's step that month of June.

Franz Ferdinand and Sophie hosted a non-state visit to Konopischt by Kaiser Wilhelm and Großadmiral Alfred von Tirpitz on Friday and Saturday 12-13th June, 1914. The recently-completed rose garden was recommended to the Admiral, a rose-breeder himself, who was steered away to admire the roses, whilst Franz Ferdinand nudged Wilhelm into the back-seat of his automobile for a sedate drive around the estate and a low-key turn of statesmanship. In this relaxed informality, the Thronfolger discussed the necessities of an accommodation between Vienna and Belgrade, one that he was willing to entertain but which was constantly sabotaged by Budapest. To Franz Ferdinand, the Habsburg Empire needed firm allies, not uncertain ones (Italy, 1882) or friends with their own agenda (Germany, 1879) – although he did not, of course, mention this to Wilhelm. The Archduke therefore supported Groef Tisza's scheme of adding Bulgaria – recently turned-on by its former partners perfidious Serbia and duplicitous Greece, as well as revanchist Turkey and back-stabbing Rumania – to the Triple Alliance. But at the same time he dropped heavy hints that although Groef Tisza showed commendable statesmanship in foreign matters, in domestic matters both he and the Magyar chauvinism of the Ország-gyülés must somehow to be pursuaded from heavy-handed repression of the minorities throughout the Apostolic Kingdom. In particular, the Rumanians of Transylvania should not be tyrannised and denied, for example, the right to be taught the Rumanian language at their schools. With pro-German King Carol of Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen on the throne, Rumania was a secret candidate for joining the Triple Alliance – it would not do to antagonise Bucharest away from openly announcing its commitment to the Triple Alliance and possibly pushing the Rumanians into an alliance with Russia and France. Surely Wilhelm could see that this would only be to Serbia's – and by extension Russia's – advantage? Wilhelm nodded sagely, adding that he would pass it on to his ambassador in Vienna, von Tschirsky.

After seeing off Kaiser Wilhelm and his rose-loving "sailor boy" from Konopischt on Saturday 13th June, the gates were opened to the public the following Monday – Franz Ferdinand's first, and only, gesture to the populace who would one day soon be his subjects. Supervised by some 500 gendarmes, they shuffled in in their Sunday best, gawked and admired in wonderment at the obelisks, the marble amoretti, styrs, Greek gods, and the baroque fountains spouting jets of water. Franz Ferdinand permitted them a brief glimpse of their future sovereign during a quick ride down the main path. A week later Franz Ferdinand and Sophie went to Schloß Chlumetz, his more intimate castle where a cosy family weekend with young Sophie, Maximilian and Ernst was enjoyed. On Wednesday 24th June Franz Ferdinand and Sophie bade their children Goodbye until a reunion over a week later, then began their journey to Sarajevo.

The fateful day of the Attentat was Sunday 28th June, 1914 – St. Vitus Day, the Serbian national holiday – and has been extensively documented. The assassins were seven young Serbs: Nedjelko Cabrinovic, Vasco Cubrilovic, Trifko Grabež, Danilo Ilic, Mohammed Mehmedbasic, Cvijetko Popovic, and Gavrilo Princip. All were young members of Mlada Bosna, aged 19 to 27, and all had tuberculosis – virtually a death sentence in 1914.

The plot had started in earnest in Sarajevo during the winter of 1913/14 with Danilo Ilic (23) and Gavrilo Princip (18). Both were intensely nationalist and both incandescently ascetic – they did not smoke, drink or engage in sex (much like a slightly older contemporary then brooding similarly in Vienna: Adolf Hitler). With near-obsession, both young men favoured the darker writers of unorthodox modern literature. Ilic and Princip discussed with fellow Young Bosnians the possibility of assassinating the military governor of Bosnia-Herçgovina, General Oskar Potiorek. The previous military governor, General Varesanin, escaped an assassination attempt in 1910 while opening parliament in Sarajevo. Although unscathed, Varesanin was succeeded by General Oskar Potiorek. The assassin was Bogdan Zerajic, a Serbian terrorist and member of the Cerna Ruka. But towards the end of January 1914 Princip received a letter from another Young Bosnia in France, mentioning Archduke Franz Ferdinand's forthcoming visit to Paris; circumstances would be favourable for an attempt on the Thronfolger's life. Princip appears to have written back accepting the suggestion, but he added that he would need to visit Belgrade first to acquire both weapons and training to use them. Following his arrival in a cheap lodging-house at 23 Carigradska Street in Belgrade, ostensibly to finish his high school studies (he was still only 18), Princip took up with other malcontent firebrands from Austrian Bosnia huddling and whispering at the Golden Sturgeon Café on Belgrade's Green Wreath Square. One of them, Nedjelko Cabrinovic, had received a newspaper clipping from another Mlada Bosna member in Sarajevo which announced that Franz Ferdinand would be visiting the city in the course of the June army manoeuvres. Princip decided it right then and there, and with deep solemnity enlisted Cabrinovic into the plot to assassinate the visiting Archduke, closing with the promise that he would find the weapons. He also enlisted fellow lodger Trifko Grabež.

The existence of the nefarious Cerna Ruka was known to all in Serbia, even though its name was only ever muttered quietly in coffeehouses and similar private places. Princip knew of it, of course – its motto of burning nationalism Ujedinjenje ili Smrt, 'Union or Death,' appealed – and needed the organization for arms and the necessary training. Through an intermediary, Princip met an authentic agent of the Cerna Ruka, Serbian Army Major Voislav Tankosic, on the terrace of the Acorn Garland. Princip explained his intention to kill Archduke Franz Ferdinand during the forthcoming visit to Sarajevo at the end of May. He wanted guns and bombs. After relaying this – presumably to 'Apis' – a few days later Tankosic alerted Princip to the newspapers: Fürst Montenuovo's announcement that the Emperor's cold, having turned into bronchitis, had now developed into pneumonia. Franz Ferdinand had been summoned from Konopischt to the capital. As the next monarch he would have other things to do than attend the June manoeuvres at Sarajevo. His eyes burning with determination, Princip insisted that he did not care. Sarajevo, Paris or wherever – he and comrades would carry out their sworn intentions. It was enough to convince Tankosic of this boy and his cell's resolve and he passed this on. A few days later another Cerna Ruka operative, Milan Ciganovic, duly supplied four Browning automatic pistols with ammunition for Princip, Cabrinovic and Grabež to practice pistol-shooting in Belgrade's secluded Topcider Park (the fourth pistol was for Ilic back in Sarajevo). Princip did best of the three, his comrades also becoming "fair shots." Six bombs (actually, standard-issue Serbian Army hand-grenades) were also supplied. Ciganovic demonstrated how to prime the weapon by unscrewing the cap to set the fuse, and the correct method of throwing the grenade. They practiced dummy-throwing similarly-heavy objects. Later, toasts – of mineral water – were drunk to Franz Josef's health: his recovery would bring Franz Ferdinand to Sarajevo as announced. On the night of 27th May Princip, Cabrinovic and Grabež swore their solemn oaths to robed figures hooded in black around an unsheathed dagger, a skull, a crucifix, a revolver, and a bottle with a death's head label – the altar of Smrt ili Zivot, the Bosnian arm of Apis' Black Hand. The young men were each given their box containing a cyanide capsule. The next morning they embarked on their journey back to Sarajevo.

Meanwhile, Serbia was actually rife with division. Here, too, there was a vocal 'war party.' Seeking confrontation to achieve 'Greater Serbia' sooner rather than later, its adherants were members of the Narodna Odbrana and the Cerna Ruka as well as a number of senior military officers and sympathetically-minded government ministers. This faction pursued its own agenda with operatives assassinating officials up and down Bosnia. Now, the three young Bosnians offered another and better opportunity to advance the cause of Ujedinjenje ili Smrt. The war party's clandestine activities and communications were cloaked in ever-increasing secrecy – usually via the classified section of the Belgrade daily Trgovinski Glasnik – lest any become known, however accidentally, to the non-confrontationist but inaccurately-termed 'peace party.' The latter included those, such as Prime Minister Nikola Pašis and his Radical Party, who saw provocation of Austria-Hungary as a danger to Serbia's sovreignty – Russian and/or French support was not ipso facto a certainty, whereas Germany's implied support for Austria-Hungary was deemed a sine qua non. And the Great Powers' political and diplomatic shenanigans of the previous decade vis-à-vis the Balkans had demonstrated this already. Although Serbia had done well from the recent Balkan Wars, the country was still recovering from its efforts and losses – Bulgaria was smarting and would 'one day' seek both revenge and redress – and some military and political distraction was still ongoing in Albania. Achieving 'Greater Serbia' via the absorbtion of Bosnia would have to wait; for now 'measured nationalism' would have to suffice. Pašic was informed that on the night of 1/2 June three armed young men had been spirited across the Drina separating Austrian Bosnia and Serbia. Thus aware that something was afoot but not what, Pašic was nevertheless also aware – and fearful – of the Cerna Ruka's ways and means. He instructed the Serbian envoy to Vienna, Jovan Jovanovic, to express to Austria's Minister of Finance Leon Graf von Bilinski a certain concern of the Thronfolger's visit to Sarajevo on, of all days, St. Vitus Day. Couched in the mendacities of etiquette, it was succinctly put that the visit, on that particular day, would be regarded as a 'national slap in the face' and was therefore less than expedient. Jovanovic regretted he could not be more specific. Besides his position in Vienna, Bilinski was also Minister of Bosnia-Herçegovina although, confusingly – and to his personal irritation – General Oskar Potiorek was actually Governor of the two provinces, wielding more executive authority. Neither man liked the other. And as Bilinski had not been formally invited to the banquet at Franz Ferdinand's HQ at the Hotel Bosna in Bad Ilidze on Saturday 27th June ... Bilinski did not pass on the Serb 'concerns' regarding the forthcoming Royal visit to Sarajevo.

Potiorek was in Conrad von Hötzendorff's camp: a consumate Serbia-hater and so also suspicious of his Thronfolger's ambiguous policies. Despite warnings from the police, the Kundschaftstelle, threats via both signed letters and the more usual anonymous letters, Potiorek was nevertheless convinced that his own munificent administration had successfully ousted any pro-Belgrade sentiment from his assigned provinces, and he demonstrated this by only deploying some 170 military personnel – essentially just an honour guard – along the assigned procession routes, backed by the local gendarmerie. There would be no outrages.

But there was frenzied activity elsewhere: queries of the highest import crackled along the telegraph lines between the Konak, the Governor's residence in Sarajevo, and the Militärkanzlerei at the Belvedere in Vienna. What wines would His Imperial Highness prefer at various dinners? Would His Highness like to approve the seating at all the tables or just a few? Did His Highness wish to specify menus? What was His Highness' exact weight, so as to select the proper mount? Oh, and what would be the best saddle and which the most comfortable stirrup length? The menu for luncheon was subsequently set as follows:

Consommé en tasse Oeufs à la gelée Fruits au beurre Boeuf bouillé aux légumes Poulets à la Villeroy Riz Compôte Bombe a la Reine Fromage Fruits et Dessert

After eight days of difficult travel, mostly off the beaten track through Serbia and Bosnia, Princip, Cabrinovic and Grabež had arrived back in Sarajevo – but not without mishap. During the journey Cabrinovic perhaps had second thoughts. As he appeared to be drawing undue attention to himself (chatting with policemen, chance acquaintances and strangers alike) Princip confiscated his pistol and bombs, and it took some stern talking-to to return Cabrinovic to the fold. During Princip's absence in Belgrade, Danilo Ilic had also strayed from the cause and seemed to be getting cold feet. Ilic was the second-most important member of the group, not only because he alone had sufficient command of German to glean from the various publications the exact itinerary of the Thronfolger's intended route on the day of the state visit. He had enlisted three more 'auxiliaries' from Mlada Bosna (Vasco Cubrilovic, Mohammed Mehmedbasic and Cvijetko Popovic) which angered Princip somewhat as these had not been 'vetted' by himself. Also, following Princip's return to Sarajevo Ilic began suggesting postponement of the assassination – or cancellation altogether in favour of starting a new political party with a more radical agenda. The young Princip proved his mettle by keeping his group together, although he resolved that Ilic should not have either a pistol or one of the bombs on St. Vitus Day. Late afternoon on Saturday 27th June pistols (Princip, Grabež, Cabrinovic and Cubrilovic) and bombs (to all, bar Ilic) were distributed. In the late hours of Saturday 27th June the conspirators steeled themselves for the solemn deed the next day at the grave of a Black Hand martyr in Kosovo Cemetery. In the morning they met in the back-room of the Vlajnic Pastry Shop where Princip designated the conspiritors' positions on the Thronfolger's route along the Appelkai. The 'lesser-reliables' – Ilic, Cabrinovic and the three auxiliaries – would be at the first position outside the Austro-Hungarian Bank near the Cumunja Bridge; here they would be tested as they would sight the procession of motorcars first. If they failed then Princip further along at the Ladina Bridge, and Grabež at the next bridge, would have a second and even a third chance. At 9 a.m. the young conspiritors dispersed to take up their respective positions.

Franz Ferdinand and Sophie had left Chlumetz for Vienna on Wednesday 24th June, but there their paths diverted as the route to Sarajevo would then take them through Budapest. Franz Ferdinand had no desire to go anywhere near Budapest. So whilst Sophie continued her journey by rail through Hungary, Franz Ferdinand headed for Trieste and 'his' SMS Viribus Unitis. The powerful dreadnought proceeded down the Dalmatian coastline to the mouth of the Narenta river where he boarded the yacht Dalmat upriver to the Herçegovian town of Metkovic. From there he travelled overland to Bad Ilidze, a spa town near Sarajevo. He had travelled for nearly forty hours but took the welcoming honour guard without a hint of fatigue. He had even learned a few deft phrases of Serbo-Croat, to mollify and defuse any resentment at the unfortunate choice of the manoeuvres so soon before the Serbs' St. Vitus Day. It worked – the people of Bad Ilidze greeted the Thronfolger with cries of "Zivio!" an enthusiasm he was beginning to enjoy. It even made him smile. He met up with Sophie and Conrad von Hötzendorff, the latter there only as an observer. Franz Ferdinand was in command during the two days of exercises in which the 'North Camp (XV.Armee-Korps) and 'South Camp' (XVI.Armee-Korps) scrambled over craggy rainswept hills, lugging equipment and heavy artillery with unusual efficiency. It brightened Franz Ferdinand's mood further still – he was even on chatty terms about it with Conrad von Hötzendorff and Potiorek at the banquet afterwards. He now looked forward with great relish to the state visit to Sarajevo the following day, Sunday 28th June, 1914. St. Vitus Day.

That day was also his and Sophie's fourteenth wedding anniversary. In 1900 they had to marry in private, in disgrace. But today Franz Ferdinand was going to have his revenge and Sophie would have her redress. They boarded the train at Bad Ilidze and after a short ride it steamed into Sarajevo at 9:20h where they were met and greeted by General Potiorek, their official host who conducted the couple through usual military band and red-carpet formalities (Conrad von Hötzendorff was not present; the summer manoeuvers over, this was now the Thronfolger's show). Just as they stepped into the back of friend Franz Graf von Harrach's large Gräf & Stift Double Phaeton convertible the weather changed dramatically: as if on cue, the rain stopped and the mist lifted. The sun now shone overly bright off glistening surfaces and the motorcar's canopy was rolled back in order to allow the crowds a good view of its colourfully-attired occupants. Other motorcars – all privately-owned – were put at the Archduke's party's disposal by the Voluntary Automobile Corps. The procession's first stop was the Filippovic Barracks where Sophie walked beside – and not behind – her husband as he inspected the guard of honour, with his hand not on his sabre's hilt but on the handle of her parasol. Both basked in the dazzling sunlight as the colours were dipped for both Archduke and Duchess.

Then it was on to the Town Hall. As the entourage boarded the motorcars again, the local hilltop fortress started booming its 24-gun salute. The leading motorcar contained Fehim Effendi Curcic and Dr. Gerde, respectively the Mayor and Commissioner of Police of Sarajevo, and General Potiorek. The second contained Franz Ferdinand and Sophie with Graf von Harrach and his driver Leopold Loyka. The remaining motorcars had other members of the Thronfolger's retinue. The motorcars proceeded slowly along Cemaszula Street – recently renamed Franz Ferdinand Boulevard – past portraits of the Archduke on window-sills, and onto the Appelkai, the north embankment of the Miljacka river that flows throught the centre of Sarajevo, all to more cries of "Zivio! Zivio!" The first of the Young Bosnians to see the actual motorcar with the Thronfolger was Cvijetko Popovic. Beside him, the unarmed Danilo Ilic signalled across the road to Cabrinovic, Mehmedbasic and Cubrilovic that the procession was nearing. As the motorcars drew level Mehmedbasic lost his nerve, later claiming that a policeman was standing right behind him who would undoubtedly have grabbed his – Mehmedbasic's – arm as he drew it back to throw and the bomb would have exploded there. Cubrilovic and Popovic also failed to act.

Cabrinovic did act. At 10:15h he primed his bomb, stepped foward and threw it at the Thronfolger's motorcar. Franz Ferdinand, Sophie and Graf von Harrach were waving at the crowd or looking around and did not notice. But the driver, Leoplod Loyka, did and accelerated when he saw the object flying towards him ... and it bounced off the folded-down canopy onto the road. Just as the final boom of the hilltop fortress' salute echoed away the bomb exploded under the wheel of the next motorcar. To the occupants of the Thronfolger's motorcar it sounded like a blown tyre, whilst Sophie thought an insect may have stung the back of her neck. Looking back they heard shouting and then gendarmes were scrambling down the embankment. Franz Ferdinand ordered the motorcar to stop and Graf von Harrach got out and ran back to the kerfuffling to find out what was going on. Two minutes later he returned, out of breath, reporting that it was A Bomb – Lt.Col. Erich von Merizzi and Graf Boos-Waldeck were seriously wounded (actually both were only slightly injured), and over a dozen spectators and gendarmes were also hit by bomb splinters (actually, more seriously than the car's occupants). Sophie realised that a splinter must have hit her neck, its force fortunately spent. After throwing his bomb, the terrorist had jumped over the embankment railing down to the Miljacka river, followed by policemen who had managed to apprehend him. Franz Ferdinand muttered oaths through clenched teeth, then ordered to drive on. Graf von Harrach did not get back in the motorcar but stood on the running-board to shield his friend from anymore possible harm. The cars then sped-up along the Appelkai toward the Town Hall. Princip and Grabež had both heard the explosion and assumed Success, craning forward with the crowd for a glimpse – Princip was pleased to observe that as the earlier-doubted Cabrinovic was in custody he must have carried out his mission. But when the cars sped past at too high a speed for both Princip and Grabež to have effectively used their own bombs anyway – and with the bright-green plumes of the Thronfolger's headgear still clearly upright and evidently unharmed – with grinding teeth both realised that ... the cell had failed.

After throwing his bomb, Cabrinovic swallowed the cyanide capsule he was carrying and jumped over the embankment railing down to the Miljacka river, followed by four men including two detectives. Why he both took the poison and tried to escape was perhaps just a heat-of-the-moment reaction. Maybe because of his frenzied running he failed to bite down sufficiently on his cyanide capsule, or maybe it flew from his mouth as his pursuers wrestled him to the ground. Whatever, it failed to kill him and he was arrested, cuffed and – retching – taken to the local police station. His co-conspirators, seeing both their quarry speed away unharmed and Cabrinovic caught now sought to make their own escape. Trifko Grabež assumed the same, calmed himself, and melted away. Only Gavrilo Princip bit his lip, overcame several dark thoughts concerning his lily-livered friends who had deserted both him and The Cause, and crossed the road to Moritz Schiller's café/delicatessen for a coffee and to collect his thoughts. He assumed the Thronfolger's procession would not return along the Appelkai as the itinerary stated; instead it would take a safer route – which that would be was anybody's guess. But there was a chance it may still return here, so he waited ...

The Thronfolger's procession arrived at Sarajevo Town Hall just after 10 a.m., just a few minutes late. Franz Ferdinand jumped out of the motorcar and demanded to know how the wounded of his retinue were. He received puzzled looks from the assembled Bosnian mullahs, bishops, rabbis, and municipal dignitaries alike – who knew nothing about it. At the head of the procession in the first motorcar, General Potiorek and Fehim Effendi Curcic, the Mayor, assumed the 'bang' to have been just another form of salute, and the Mayor launched enthusiastically into his welcoming speech of the city's gratitude for the most gracious visit ... when the Archduke loudly interrupted with, "Mr. Mayor, what kind of gratitude? I come to Sarajevo on a visit, and I get bombs thrown at me. It is outrageous!" But he immediately felt Sophie whispering into his ear and he calmed down. "Very well, Mr. Mayor, continue with your speech." Dr. Gerde, the Commissioner of Police and to whom The Bomb was News, went off with General Potiorek to find telephones and Make Enquiries. The befuddled Mayor continued his speech, now with considerably less enthusiasm, and the Thronfolger replied from pages visibly splattered with Merizzi's blood, belatedly retrieved by an equerry from the damaged motorcar. Again, Sophie composed her irate husband with the merest touch on his arm, soothing the tense situation, and Franz Ferdinand evenly read the prepared statement, improvising one deft change to consider the welcome extended to his wife and himself as expressions of joy that the attempt on his and his wife's life was foiled. It was a neat bit of tact and received relieved applause. His added peroration, in Serbo-Croat, received cries of "Zivio!" and more applause from the dignitaries. A despatch-rider roared up on a motorcycle with the news from the garrison hospital that von Merizzi's injury was only a flesh wound to the hand; it was being bound and he would be released soon.

With the opening pleasantries out of the way, the party settled down to the matters at hand. Sophie ascended the stairs to the second floor where Muslim ladies could tender their respects to her unveiled. Meanwhile Potiorek and Dr. Gerde returned and briefed Franz Ferdinand on the events near the Cumunja Bridge. It brought out gallows humour and sardonic flippancy, and he aimed these at Bosnia's Military Governor. "What do you think, General? Any more Kugerln in your valued judgement?" Potiorek assured the Thronfolger that it was an isolated lunatic – His Imperial Highness can go at ease. Franz Ferdinand snorted. His Imperial Highness indeed wished to resume the programme, as scheduled. But he wanted to visit von Merizzi at the garrison hospital. No need, Potiorek assured him again, von Merizzi would be released within the hour. The Thronfolger insisted, and also demanded that another motorcar be found to take his wife and his chamberlain, Baron Morsey, to their hotel. At that very moment Sophie came back downstairs and with the slightest shake of her head indicated that she would remain at her husband's side, come what may. Franz Ferdinand accepted this, Potiorek informed the other cars of the revised route – now via the garrison hospital – and the call for an additional motorcar was belayed. The couple wandered outside and stood at the top of the Town Hall steps, resplendent in the bright sunlight, and took some more cheers of "Zivio!" Going through Franz Ferdinand's mind as he stood there may have been one of Potiorek's earlier remarks, "Do you think Sarajevo is full of assassins?" If there were any he was now a perfectly-lit and stationary target ... But nothing happened.

The party descended the steps and got back into the waiting motorcars, now one less. Into the first motorcar went senior police officers. At the second motorcar Franz Graf von Harrach again opted to stand on the running-board of his Gräf & Stift so there was now a front seat available. General Oskar Potiorek took it, perhaps to prove his point that there would be no (more!) outrages. Into the remaining vehicles went Baron Morsey and other members of the Thronfolger's personal retinue and Militärkanzlerei. After final departing pleasantries the cars drove off, retracing their route to the Appelkai. The clocks in Sarajevo's church towers struck 10:30h.

Still nursing terrorist thoughts in Moritz Schiller's café/delicatessen on the corner of the Appelkai and Franz-Josef-Straße opposite the Ladina Bridge, at 10:32h Gavrilo Princip heard the heavy growl of the big automobiles coming down the Appelkai once again. Could it be ...? He hurried outside and to his amazement saw the big Gräf & Stift puttering along the Appelkai towards him. There were two bright-green plumed hats in the motorcar this time, and a man on the running-board – but on the other side of the motorcar. In fact, this oversight of the part of Graf von Harrach was understandable: the earlier bomb had been thrown from the embankment side of the Appelkai, and it was from further potential bomb-throwings from the embankment that he sought to shield the Thronfolger. This left Sophie's side of the motorcar, the buildings side of the Appelkai, open and unprotected.

Another oversight – this time Potiorek's – now manifested itself. To avoid the city centre, Potiorek had decided that the Royal motorcar should travel straight along the Appelkai to the garrison hospital. However ... he forgot to tell the driver about this decision. On the way to the hospital, Loyka took a right turn into Franz-Josef-Straße, as per the original itinerary. Potiorek immediately realised the driver had taken the wrong route and shouted, "What is this? This is the wrong way! We're supposed to take the Appel Quay!" Loyka applied the brakes, then began to reverse. In so doing the motorcar rolled slowly back past the waiting Gavrilo Princip ... who could hardly have believed his luck. Fate seemed to smile on the young assassin. However, he would have neither the time to prime the bomb – this would be detected by the police and bystanders – nor would he be able to throw it as The Target was Too Close. Instead he stepped forward, drawing his gun, and at a distance of about five feet fired the Browning twice before being overpowered by gendarmes and bystanders. Nerves and adrenalin notwithstanding, it was difficult to miss from that distance.

At first Potiorek and Harrach saw no reaction in the back-seat – the august pair seemed unruffled. However, the first bullet had hit Sophie in the stomach. Turning stiffly to her husband she noticed blood dribble from his lips. She managed an anguished "For God's sake! What happened to you?" and then, as Harrach recalled, Sophie collapsed against her husband with a dazed look, sinking down from her seat with her face between the Archduke's knees. Both Potiorek and Harrach had no idea that she had been hit and thought that she had merely fainted from shock. The second shot had hit Franz Ferdinand in the right side of the neck and his jugular vein was spouting blood from a horrible wound (although this was not immediately visible under his high collar). Instead of to the garrison hospital, Potiorek now ordered Leopold Loyka to quickly drive on to the nearer Konak as it had a military infirmary. As Harrach pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his friend's lips and stem the bloodflow, a distraught Franz Ferdinand saw the blood oozing through Sophie's white silk dress and stammered, "Sopherl, Sopherl, stirb nicht! ... Bleib am Leben für unsere Kinder" Harrach was in a quandry: as the Thronfolger was bleeding from the mouth he had obviously been hit – but where? Harrach seized the Archduke by the coat collar to prevent his head from sinking forward and asked him, "Is Your Highness in great pain?" To which Franz Ferdinand answered clearly, "It is nothing." His face was slightly distorted, and he repeated six or seven times, every time losing more consciousness and with a fading voice, "It is nothing." Then came a brief pause followed by a convulsive rattle in his throat, caused by loss of blood. This ceased on arrival at the Konak. The two unconscious bodies were carried into the building where attendants tried to rip the Tronfolger's meticulously sewn-on uniform from his chest – still suspecting a shot to the heart – then the left side of his high collar. But in vain. It was established that Sophie had already died the moment she collapsed, several minutes before her husband's life also ended ...

Note: several passages and quotes taken freely from Frederic Morton, Thunder At Twilight, Vienna 1913/1914 (Collier Books/Macmillan Publishing, NewYork 1989).