On a crisp Tuesday morning in Bratislava, the usually bustling heart of Slovakia’s capital ground to a sudden halt. Residents watched from behind cordons as police, bomb disposal teams, and emergency workers swarmed the city center. The disruption wasn’t caused by a modern threat, but by a chilling relic from the past: a 500-pound World War II bomb, unearthed during routine construction work near the intersection of Landererova and Culenova Streets the previous evening.
According to police and multiple news outlets, including The Associated Press and TASR, the device was discovered on Monday, September 8, 2025. By dawn the following day, authorities had made the difficult decision to evacuate several blocks of downtown Bratislava, including the closure of a major bridge across the Danube River, the Apollo Bridge, and numerous key thoroughfares such as Mlynske nivy, Kosicka, Pristavna from Plynarenska, Pribinova, and Dostojevskeho rad up to Krupkova Street. Public transportation and all traffic were halted during the morning rush hour, causing widespread disruption for commuters and businesses alike.
For many Bratislavans, it was a surreal reminder that the scars of war sometimes lie just beneath the surface—literally. The area where the bomb was found was once home to the Apollo oil refinery, a strategic target of Allied air raids during World War II. In June and September 1944, several tons of bombs rained down on the site as the Allies targeted Nazi-controlled infrastructure. Slovakia, then a Nazi puppet state, bore the brunt of these attacks, and the original wartime terrain remains largely undisturbed beneath today’s cityscape. As The Slovak Spectator reported, "After the raids, the entire complex was buried. The original wartime terrain is still here, and construction work is now uncovering it," as explained by Ján Ferér, head of the bomb disposal unit, in 2021 when a similar device was found.
On this September morning, however, the threat was immediate. Police and bomb disposal experts acted swiftly, sealing off the danger zone and assuring nearby residents that every precaution was being taken. "There's no longer any danger in the evacuated area now, and residents of adjacent buildings can safely return to their homes and work," police later announced on social media after the crisis had passed. But in those tense hours, uncertainty reigned. Office workers, shopkeepers, and families were ushered out of buildings with little notice, many clutching only their phones and a few personal belongings.
By 10:45 a.m., the city exhaled a collective sigh of relief. The bomb had been safely deactivated and was set to be transported to a designated location for further disposal, police confirmed. Residents were allowed to return to their homes and workplaces, and the cordoned-off streets gradually reopened. The swift and professional response of local authorities prevented what could have been a catastrophic incident, and no injuries or property damage were reported.
The discovery in Bratislava is hardly an isolated event. Across Europe and beyond, the legacy of World War II continues to surface—sometimes with explosive consequences. In recent months, large-scale evacuations and emergency measures have been triggered by similar finds: in August, vast sections of Dresden, Germany, were cleared so experts could defuse an unexploded bomb found during clearance work for a collapsed bridge. In June, three unexploded U.S. bombs were discovered in Cologne, prompting city-wide alerts. Paris’ Gare du Nord saw a bomb unearthed near its tracks in March, while more than 170 bombs were found near a children’s playground in northern England in February. Even as far away as Japan, airports have been temporarily closed to deal with wartime ordnance.
So why are these bombs still turning up, eighty years after the war’s end? The answer lies in the scale and intensity of the Allied bombing campaigns, which left countless unexploded devices buried across the continent. Many of these bombs were dropped on industrial targets—like Bratislava’s Apollo refinery—and failed to detonate upon impact, only to be discovered decades later as cities rebuild and expand. As construction projects dig deeper into the earth, the odds of encountering such dangerous remnants increase.
The process of dealing with these bombs is painstaking and fraught with risk. Bomb disposal teams must first identify the device, assess its stability, and determine the safest method of neutralization. In Bratislava’s case, the 500-pound aerial bomb was rendered harmless on site before being removed. Every step is coordinated with police, emergency services, and city officials to minimize risk to the public. Evacuations, though disruptive, are essential to ensure that even in the worst-case scenario, lives are not lost.
The events in Bratislava also serve as a stark reminder of the city’s wartime history. During World War II, Slovakia’s status as a Nazi puppet state made it a target for Allied bombers seeking to cripple the Axis war machine. The Apollo refinery, situated close to the Danube, was a prime objective. The Allied raids of 1944 were devastating, and the aftermath saw much of the area’s infrastructure buried and abandoned. Today, as modern Bratislava continues to evolve, those buried memories occasionally resurface—often in the most dramatic fashion.
For the residents of Bratislava, Tuesday’s evacuation was an unexpected interruption to daily life—a brush with history that few will soon forget. Yet the city’s calm and orderly response, and the expertise of its emergency services, ensured that the threat was neutralized without incident. As one local official put it, "The safety of our citizens is always our top priority. We are grateful for the professionalism of our police and bomb disposal teams."
With the crisis over and life returning to normal, Bratislavans are left to reflect on the strange persistence of history beneath their feet. The episode is a potent illustration of how the past continues to shape the present, sometimes in the most literal way imaginable. And as cities across Europe grapple with similar discoveries, the lessons of Bratislava—vigilance, preparedness, and respect for the risks of old wars—remain as relevant as ever.