Residents of Winnipeg huddled in their homes for safety as the city’s anti-aircraft defences shot at Nazi bombers flying overhead.
Debris from explosions littered the streets as the Second World War arrived at the “Gateway to the West”.
A fierce firefight thundered around all corners of the downtown core as brave Canadian troops did their best to stop the Nazi stormtroopers from invading the city, and the province.
It was a losing battle.
There was no hope.
Within hours, Winnipeg and the rest of Manitoba had fallen to Nazi Germany.
Books were burned.
The Union Jack was taken down and replaced with the black swastika.
The premier, Lt. Governor and Mayor of Winnipeg were arrested and imprisoned, replaced with Nazi sympathizers.
Did I just dive into a dystopian alternative history or a bit of The Man in the High Castle fan fiction?
Nope.
Everything I just shared happened on a cold February day in 1942.
I’m Craig Baird, this is Canadian History Ehx and t…If Day!
In the first two years of the Second World War, Canada sent millions of men and women, and most of the country’s resources, to the war effort on a level never seen before.
Every factory was making guns, ships, ammunition and aircrafts.
Common household items were rationed, and it seemed as though the entire country was somehow invested in the war.
That’s because it was.
It became Total War, which is a military conflict where parties are willing to make any sacrifice in lives or resources to obtain a complete victory. But it can be expensive, even for a large economy like Canada’s. The country needed help to fund the war effort with the help of the home front.
Enter the Victory Bond programs.
Victory Bonds were sold to individuals and corporations by the government.
Basically, it was a loan given to the government by Canadians that allowed for increased war spending and in return, citizens could redeem those bonds when they matured in 2.5, six or 14 years.
To raise money, celebrities told people to buy Victory Bonds.
Advertisements spoke of the merits of the bonds, and people conducted door-to-door canvassing.
In all, 10 bond drives were held throughout the war, which raised $12 billion.
That amounted to $104 from every man, woman and child in Canada at the time.
On Feb. 16, 1942, the second Canadian Victory Loan campaign began under the slogan of “Beacons of Fire of Freedom”.
Each province and city in Canada were given a quota to reach based on population. The larger the population, the greater the quota.
With a population of 222,000 people at the time, Winnipeg had a quota of $24.5 million which meant an average of $110 per person.
Adjusted for inflation, which is $2,007 per person in 2024 funds.
Not a small amount by any means.
The province of Manitoba had a quota of $45 million, so the Victory Bond committees had their work cut out for them to reach that goal.
With a challenge that appeared insurmountable in front of them the Winnipeg Victory Bond Committee hit upon an idea.
Why not raise money, by showing residents what could happen if the Allies lost the war because of a lack of home front support?
and so, the idea of If Day was born.
The Winnipeg Victory Bond Committee rolled out a map of Manitoba to hash out its plan of attack.
The first thing they did was to split the provincial map on the table into 45 sections which would be overtaken by simulated Nazi armies. The only way to free themselves from the grip of the Germans was to raise $1 million for the Victory Bond campaign.
The idea of Nazis in Winnipeg was not as far-fetched as it sounded.
In January 1939, mere months before the Second World War began, 500 Winnipeg residents gathered at a party hosted by the German consulate where there were Nazi salutes, flags, portraits of Adolf Hitler and speeches about the glory of Nazi Germany.
Just over 4 years later If Day would happen.
The map divided into 45 sections was placed at the corner of Portage and Main in Winnipeg, the busiest intersection in the city, and published in newspapers across the province.
Called If Day, the committee planned everything down to the smallest detail from the movements of the actual battle to the soldiers who would be wounded, to the actions of the Nazis once they took over.
Defending the population of Winnipeg and Manitoba were 3,500 Canadian Army members who were in the city and province at the time.
The Nazis were volunteers from the Young Men’s Board of Trade who wanted to help raise money and flex their acting skills.
Their uniforms were rented from Hollywood productions and to add an extra menacing look to the troops, scars were painted on their faces.
On Feb. 18, 1942, the familiar sound of droning planes could be heard over Winnipeg.
This was not unusual.
During the war, Canada spearheaded the Commonwealth Air Training Plan for tens of thousands of pilots across the country.
With all those pilots in training, it was rare not to see planes in the sky.
But when residents looked up on that cold winter morning, they noticed something different.
These planes didn’t have Allies colours.
These were German planes.
More like Royal Canadian Air Force aircraft painted to look like German fighters.
As planes flew overhead, residents in nearby Selkirk, were ordered to shut off their lights.
Located 30 mins away from Winnipeg, the community was asked to be in a blackout.
It didn’t work.
The planes began their attack, and explosions rained down on them.
Real explosions.
The committee had arranged for small amounts of dynamite to explode in areas where they would do no damage.
Coal dust was used to make the explosions look larger.
This was just the beginning.
As the sun rose on Feb. 19, 1942, the Battle of Winnipeg was about to begin.
It was time for the main event.
It was still dark when German patrols reached the city at 5:30 a.m.
A radio announcer had his show suddenly cut off as Nazi troops stormed his control room and commandeered the station for their own radio broadcasts urging citizens not to resist.
As Nazi propaganda played over the radio, German troops invaded the west end of the city as Canadian troops massed at barracks and armouries ready to fight back.
An hour and a half later, air raid sirens blasted throughout Winnipeg and a blackout was ordered as German fighters and bombers approached from overhead.
If the air raid sirens didn’t wake everyone up, the explosions that rattled neighbourhoods did.
I should point out; This was before television and the Internet. Not everyone had a radio, and it was easy to miss notices in newspapers or on lamp posts.
So not everyone was aware that If Day wasn’t a real invasion in fact some thought it was very real.
It was Canada’s version of the War of the Worlds.
Only three years earlier on Oct. 31, 1938, Orsen Welles directed and narrated a radio adaptation of The War of The Worlds on the radio series The Mercury Theatre on the Air.
Many listeners who tuned in after the initial disclaimer thought that the Martian invasion was real because of the fictional news reports in the radio play.
Over time, this story has been exaggerated quite a bit.
The day after the broadcast, newspapers reported that there was mass panic and even deaths from people driving too fast as they fled. This myth has continued to exist for decades.
Most people just called the police or newspaper to see if the reports were true.
Once they found out the truth, panic was averted.
Meanwhile simulated Nazi bombers flew over Winnipeg, and explosions rang out, as the Germans pushed deeper into the city at 7:30 a.m.
George Hoffman was a private with the First Calvary Division Service Corps and had signed up to be one of the city’s defenders.
While he knew the importance of the campaign, he wasn’t happy about having to take part in it considering the 4:30 a.m. wake up call and then having to stand around in freezing cold weather for hours waiting for the battle to start.
“They stuck us in the suburbs at the cross streets, out in the boonies more or less, mostly in the residential areas. We were out there for awhile.”
Hoffman was given orders e not to physically fight back against the Germans because there was a worry the trained Canadian soldiers could accidently hurt the volunteers posing as Nazi soldiers.
The Canadian troops had a plan to prevent the Nazis from reaching the downtown core.
They formed a perimeter that was five kilometres long to protect it but despite their best efforts, the defenders were continually pushed back by the Germans.
All of this was planned and choreographed, including when each troop formation was to move, and where.
Nine troop formations held three positions through the city following the scripted invasion sequence.
Telephones and flash-lamp signals from the Chamber of Commerce building helped direct the movements.
It goes without saying, both armies were also firing blanks.
Hoping to stop the German push into the city, the defenders simulated the destruction of seven bridges over the Red and Assiniboine Rivers.
Like in Selkirk the previous day, dynamite and coal dust was used to create the look of larger explosions without doing any real damage.
For added effect, bricks and debris were strewn over the bridges and roads following the explosions.
Meanwhile, German planes flew over the city as 30 anti-aircraft guns fired blanks at them.
It was no use; the city defenders were no match for the invading army.
The Nazi march into the city didn’t stop and the Canadians were forced to retreat deeper into the city.
As the mock casualties increased, dressing stations were set up where actual nurses and doctors were treating the injured.
Despite the bravery of the Winnipeg soldiers, at 9:30 a.m., they surrendered to the Nazis and withdrew to a downtown muster point as the city fell.
The Battle of Winnipeg was over, and it was a resounding loss.
Throughout the province, other communities fell to the Germans as well.
Manitoba, a province of 647,797 square kilometres right in the middle of the country was now under Nazi control.
Canada’s cornerstone province had fallen.
As soon as the city and province fell, the Nazi troops marched in a parade through the city as a tank drove in front along Portage Avenue
Premier John Bracken, Winnipeg Mayor John Queen and Lt. Governor Roland Fairbairn McWilliams were sent into an internment camp that was set up at Lower Fort Garry.
At the fort, the Union Flag was lowered and replaced with a swastika.
Winnipeg was no more.
The city was renamed Himlerstadt in honour of Heinrich Himmler, the leader of the Nazi SS.
Main Street in the city was renamed Hitlerstrasse to commemorate the German Fuhrer Adolf Hitler.
As soon as the city was taken by the Nazis, the new regime got to work censoring the press. The Winnipeg Tribune became Das Winnipeger Lugenblatt, literally translating as The Winnipeg Lying Paper.
The paper was heavily censored and written entirely in German that day.
An editorial published stated,
“This is a great day for Manitoba! Everywhere the forces of the great and valiant Nazi army are bringing the New Order to the Province of the Greater Germany. The great and valiant Nazi army is also bringing to the province German culture and blessings of German civilization. Unfortunately, there are people who do not understand the blessings which we have brought them. They will be made to understand!”
Katherine Middleton’s popular cooking column was still in the newspaper, but now it carried new German recipes and told citizens how to get along with no food at all.
Throughout the city, anyone caught selling the Winnipeg Free Press, the other major newspaper, had their supply of newspapers torn up in front of them.
Churches were also closed, and some reverends and pastors were arrested.
At stores and coffee shops in the city, German Reichsmarks were given out instead of Canadian dollars.
Twelve-year old Diane Edgelow had no idea what was going on when she left to buy a loaf of bread from the store for her mother.
As she crossed a bridge towards downtown, she saw German soldiers everywhere. She said,
“The bridges were guarded by German soldiers, they seemed to be everywhere. I was so scared.”
When she bought bread at the store, she was giving Reichsmarks.
She said,
“I don’t think my mom would have sent me down to the store if she knew there were going to be soldiers dressed like that. Maybe I wouldn’t have been so scared if I had been told before.”
Her family didn’t read the newspaper, so they never saw the notices.
As the simulation continued new leaders had to be put in place.
Local resident Erich von Neuremburg was installed as the provincial leader, while George Wraight became his Gestapo chief.
Elsewhere in Manitoba, communities were now living under Nazi rule.
In Neepawa, Manitoba, Nazi soldiers confronted citizens in the street. Virden, named for the German town of Verden, was renamed Virdenberg, and the CBC broadcasted a program called Swastika over Canada, which played Hitler’s speeches.
Now in control of the city, and the province, Nuremberg issued a decree that was posted throughout the city.
Under the decree, no civilians were permitted on the street after 9:30 p.m. until daybreak.
Every household had to provide billeting for five soldiers, and all military, semi-military or fraternal organizations were banned.
Every farmer had to report all stocks of grain and livestock, and anything he grew had to be given to the Germans.
If the farmer wanted any of his own stocks, he had to buy it back from the Germans.
In Winnipeg, buses were stopped, and every passenger was searched. Outside the Winnipeg Public Library, books were thrown into a pile and burned.
The mere thought of books burning boils my blood, but thankfully all the books put to the flame were already damaged from years of use and had been preselected for burning.
George Hoffman, the private involved in the battle, said,
“I caught a glimpse of the burning books but then I read in the paper that these were books the library was going to destroy anyways, so they were used to build this bonfire, but a lot of people didn’t know what was going on.”
At the insurance offices of Great West Life, Nazi soldiers stormed the cafeteria and took lunches from workers.
At the police station, they stole buffalo coats and wore them throughout the day.
Again, not everyone knew this was a simulation.
Imagine going into work thinking it is going to be a normal day and then someone in a Nazi uniform bursts through the door and steals your sandwich.
It would be very confusing.
In one elementary school, the principal was taken into custody and replaced with a teacher who spoke about the Nazi Truth.
Special lessons were prepared for high school students in the city about the German Regime.
This was life under the Nazis.
Then, as the sun started to set, so too did the Nazi Regime in Himlerstadt.
At 5:30 p.m. on If Day, all the prisoners were released, and a parade was held through the city led by Canadian troops.
The organizing committee marched in the parade holding banners that stated, “Buy Victory Bonds” and “It Must Not Happen Here.”
At the end of the parade, the released political leaders gave speeches about If Day and the need to buy Victory Bonds to prevent it from becoming a reality in Canada.
Now I wish I could say that If Day had no casualties…
But I would never lie to you…
One soldier suffered a sprained ankle, and a woman cut her thumb while making toast during the early morning blackout.
As I mentioned before, most people in the city knew what was happening but as I’ve shared there were some who had no idea why Germans were suddenly attacking a mid-sized Canadian Prairie city.
All they knew was that when they woke up, the Nazis were suddenly marching through the city.
With the control of the radio stations, there was also no news coming in from outside Winnipeg to tell them that everything was fine.
George Hoffman said,
“A lot of people were very uneasy and quite intimidated about this thing. Maybe it made them think that it could happen here. They didn’t know how far these Nazis would go.”
The thing is part of the point of If Day was to scare people.
The war may have been in Europe, and far away, but Canada was not isolated from the conflict completely.
On May 12, 1942, only three months after If Day, the Battle of the St. Lawrence began when U-553 sunk the British freighter Nicoya at the mouth of the St. Lawrence near Anticosti Island.
That island is in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, 300 kilometres north of Prince Edward Island and 260 kilometres west of Newfoundland.
For the next two years, the battle raged in the river and on the east coast of Canada, leading to the sinking of 23 merchant ships and four Royal Canadian Navy ships.
340 people, including dozens of civilians, died.
The war may not have reached the borders of Winnipeg, but the conflict was something very real for many Canadians.
But did the simulated German invasion help sell Victory Bonds?
To say If Day was a success would be an understatement.
Life Magazine ran a pictorial spread, and the idea made headlines across North America and even on the BBC in England.
It was estimated that 40 million people worldwide saw the coverage.
In the pre-Internet and television age, which was a huge number. In fact, you could even say it went viral.
In Winnipeg, If Day raised $3.2 million in 24 hours, and within a week the city passed its $24 million quota.
The province blasted through its goal of $45 million, reaching $60 million.
Nationwide, the Victory Loan campaign raised $2 billion.
Considering If Day only cost $3,000 that was a huge return on investment.
Although If Day was a big success, it fell short on its other goal.
Organizers hoped the day would spur people on to enlist to fight overseas.
Only 23 people joined the war effort on If Day, down from 36 per day earlier in February.
Nonetheless, it accomplished its core goal. To raise money through the sale of Victory Bonds to help the war effort.
But for many who lived in Winnipeg that day, they would never forget when the Nazis came to town.
