Fact: In the years between World Wars I and II, the United States Department of War developed a classified “hypothetical” plan for the invasion of Canada. The goal was to deny that country as a staging area for British aggression against the US. This midlevel practice exercise in strategic and logistic planning was never enacted, of course. [End Fact.]
But what’s sauce for the gander is sauce for the Canada Goose. This is that story.
Part I
In January 2006, inadvertently declassified Pentagon documents revealed an outdated plan for the US invasion of Canada.
Spurred by the wave of outrage and tittering that followed, two enterprising reporters from a Vermont weekly made a journalistic foray to Ottawa, demanding access to defense records there under the Freedom of Information Act (FOIA). They managed to abscond with two boxes marked “Classify When Convenient” before the authorities in that country realized FOIA was American legislation.
Deep within the impenetrable maple forests of their home state, the two began to sift the records for an indication of Canadian military plans. What they found astounded all but a small handful of experts. The report resulting from their painstaking work was a sweeping battle plan by our Northern Neighbor for the invasion of the United States.
After the shock of the initial revelation came disbelief at the scale and subtlety of the scheme. This country would have been woefully unprepared for the sort of subversion and outright incursion it proposed and the balance of power across the 49th parallel would have been forever altered.
Here for the first time is an overview of the bold thrust Canadian planners called: “Glacial Fury.”
Moles
The larger operation was to have two broad components, one gradual and subversive, the other a classic military thrust, but in neither case would the targets or methods match US predictions.
The initial preparatory phase, code named “Snowshoe,” called for specially trained agents to infiltrate the northern states over several years through unguarded woodlands or sparsely patrolled secondary roads. These agents had spent a lifetime watching American television and exposing themselves to the cultural reality of Hollywood. No detail of ephemeral slang or shallow obsession was too trivial in layering their cover identities. In a very real sense, the whole population had become a training ground for a potential Fifth Column.
Their assignment was to quietly obtain jobs in the US, purchase property, enroll their children in school, and otherwise embed themselves, very gradually, into local communities south of the border. When the infiltrators in each target area believed they had established a sufficient presence and were sure the natives did not react to their cultural “scent,” it was time to consolidate their gains. They were to wait for the next U.S. federal holiday and quietly raise the maple leaf flag over the local post office.
The hope was that with consistent nerve they could persuade the remaining true Americans that the town had always been Canadian. A combination of embarrassment and inertia they reckoned would carry things along. Besides, the Canadian staff reassured themselves, when the former Yankees realized they would no longer have to justify the actions of their government, they would welcome the fait accompli with relief.
The planners also exhibited a trait which suffused the whole master plan. All territorial objectives were both relatively modest and carefully chosen. In this case, the designated communities would all have temperatures in January that for at least one day fell below zero. Canadian planners gambled that these towns would be described in CIA dispatches as places where “the temperature routinely falls below zero” and so be written off as not worth a counterstrike.
This gradual operation spanning several years would provide receptive territory for the follow-up phase of the master plan. When sufficient forward “bases” had been established, Canada would launch a more classic military stroke, the active incursion codenamed “Body Check.”
Wolves
Sometime between January and March*, on a secret signal from the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, Canadian border agents would stroll across the line to have “lunch” at fast food stands on the American side. At the same time, a hand-picked group of buff female comrades would stand wrapped in towels holding signs advertising “Sauna Demo” to lure US agents into Canadian territory. With the American stations temporarily vulnerable, the Canadian guards would race back and jam screwdrivers in the turnstiles, effectively sealing the border.
[* Dates are necessarily imprecise because international exchange sets a rate of 390 Canadian days to 1 US year.]
At the same time, hydraulic technicians would turn off Niagara Falls. The sudden turbine failure that followed would immediately cause scattered blackouts in the region. In addition, police forces would be diverted to quell roaming crowds of unruly honeymooners disgruntled by being deprived of this centerpiece of their vacations.
Elements of the St. Lawrence Naval Group, under the guise of “whale-watching cruises,” would steam south to establish a presence in the Great Lakes. The taskforce would include all the Navy’s tugs, two guided missile colliers and the armed ferry Je Me Souviens. With a combination of pluck, bluff and abstruse international law, Canada would claim rights to the Great Lakes shoreline inland to a two-hundred-mile limit. This would provide a valuable beachhead and sow additional confusion among any possible responders.
Still counting heavily on the element of disbelief, commandos from crack Canadian units, primarily the (Not Really Our) Queen’s Own 9th Lardoons and Quebec’s elite Bluets Sauvages, would slash south in a lightning advance, stopping only when their “skates struck mud.” Once more, orders were strict on the point of limiting the advance, requiring forward units to halt within two degrees’ latitude of the departure line.
What other “special” targets are revealed in the plans? And what was Canada’s motivation for such bold moves? Find out in next week’s installment “Method in the Madness.”
Image: commons.wikimedia.org
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Je me souviens!
I believe you mean Glacial Fury, If It’s Not Too Much Trouble. The St. Lawrence Naval Group? You’re killing me.
I’m sure the army planned to clean up after itself. And a few flowers are never out of place, maybe with a nice note.