This February 19, 1942, the inhabitants of the city of Winnipeg, in the province of Manitoba (central Canada), will not soon forget it. As early as 7 a.m., they are pulled out of bed by the howl of municipal sirens. Inside the homes, it’s total darkness, the switches no longer respond. Blackout. Should we fear a fire in the city center? Or a new flood of the Red River of the North, which flows through the city before emptying into Lake Winnipeg? When they gather on the sidewalks, Winnipeggers finally understand: a strange banner is flying over the city. A red flag with a black swastika.
What if one day the Nazis invaded Winnipeg?
First step of the invasion: take control of the city.
This isn’t the only clue that something is wrong. In the distance, we hear anti-aircraft guns firing an invisible squadron and the rhythmic footsteps of military boots. The traffic is clogged with unusual vehicles: ambulances, tanks and jeeps converge towards the city center. Bridges spanning rivers disappear behind a screen of smoke, while armored vehicles paralyze crossroads. Passports and passes are required at intersections.
Second step: suspend the power in place.
How to react? The radios broadcast the same message over and over – residents must take shelter – until the program is interrupted by a bulletin spoken in German. At the same time, Winnipeg Mayor John Queen and his aides were escorted out of City Hall by heavily armed soldiers. Around noon, the guns finally fell silent: Winnipeg had capitulated. The city’s main artery – Portage Avenue – was immediately renamed Adolf Hitler Strasse.
Third step: control information through propaganda.
The shock troops of the invading army are now attacking civilians. A militia jostles local residents and manhandles newspaper delivery men. The city’s main daily newspaper, the Winnipeg Tribune, renamed for the occasion Das Winnipeger Lügenblatt – “Winnipeg’s web of lies” – dictates a series of rules to be observed under penalty of serious sanctions. At the Robert H. Smith School, staff are forced to teach students the “truth” as taught in Third Reich schools. A pyre of banned books burns in front of the Winnipeg Public Library.
Fourth step: instill fear to defuse any hint of resistance.
Once the city is subdued, the victorious soldiers stop the buses and extract stunned travelers. The entire city was placed under martial law. Places of worship are closed until further notice and posters Verboten (“forbidden”) swarm across the city. In stores and cafes, customers now receive their change in Reichsmarks. Houses are looted by the mocking occupier.
This is what happened on February 19, 1942 in Winnipeg. In just a few hours, the Canadian city fell under the yoke of Nazi Germany. But the residents who witnessed the day’s terrible events were not fooled. It’s just a charade, a fundraising disguised as a power grab. To avoid widespread panic, the newspapers had informed citizens of the upcoming operation a few days earlier (those who did not read the press must have had quite a surprise).
False invasion, real ambitions
It remains that the preparation of the operation “If one day” (If Day in English) required exceptional inventiveness and coordination. It was necessary to mobilize thousands of volunteers, including 3,500 authentic Canadian soldiers. The fake Nazis borrowed their uniforms from Hollywood and fired hundreds of blank rounds. Even the books thrown at the stake had been pre-selected by the librarians: only works that were too old or worn suffered the sad fate that befell “subversive” works in occupied Europe at the same time.
The goal of the operation: to motivate civilians to buy “victory bonds” (victory bonds), debts distributed by the Canadian state which made it possible to finance the cost of its participation in the Second World War. Canada declared war on Nazi Germany on September 10, 1939, more than two years before its American neighbor entered the conflict (in December 1941). And more than a million Canadian soldiers serve under the flags. The operation If Day is a resounding success: more than 3 million Canadian dollars are raised following the event.
This initiative is not only intended to raise awareness among the Canadian population of the threatening fascism that is emerging across the Atlantic. It also trains soldiers in an invasion scenario in conditions close to real life. “The men learned more in two and a half hours this morning than in a week of ordinary training. Their mobilization was impeccable”welcomed the officer in command, Major Henderson, in the local press on the evening of February 19, 1942.
Unfortunately, even in a fake invasion, there are always a few casualties. “The only casualties reported were Miss Marie Gorin, who cut her finger while slicing bread in her darkened apartment, and a soldier who sprained his ankle jumping from a combat vehicle.”reports La Gazette de Montréal the next day. A small sacrifice to make in times of war, even in Winnipeg, several million kilometers from the different fronts of the world conflict.
