Recap: Canada’s secret plans to invade the US combined shallow, clandestine encroachment into northern states with limited armed intervention along the border. (See Glacial Fury, Part I). This final installment addresses the reasons why our longtime allies, and BFF North American roommates, would even think of double-crossing us like that.
Special Targets and Sanctions
While the major operational plans are fascinating, perhaps more surprising are the designation of subordinate thrusts and some key points that were missing from the list of objectives. Washington, DC *, for instance, was to be completely bypassed. Despite the Canadians’ recognition of its importance in the American scheme, it was seen as largely irrelevant in terms of hampering the practical objectives of the master plan.
[* The term used in dispatches to describe the American capital, sometimes interpreted as “stalwart nerve center,” has alternatively been translated from the Canadian as either “constant bundle of nerves” or “chronic irritant.”]
However, two other targets outside the carefully proscribed border zone were to receive special attention. In a hammer blow, a squad of raiders armed with flamethrowers and backed by armored Zambonis would destroy the Los Angeles hockey arena in what was described as a “denial mission” but appears to have been simple revenge for that city’s having stolen Wayne Gretzky.
The southernmost thrust was aimed at a point that should have been anticipated by US defense planners. The extremely mobile Snowbird division was set to overrun Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, establishing a warm water base for the months of March and April.
This aspect of the overall plan was especially unusual in that it called for a recurring invasion with no apparent intent to stake permanent claim to the area. In fact, the orders specifically called for a routine withdrawal each year following the initial incursion. This would have the dual advantage of avoiding overstretched supply lines, a classic concern among war planners, and steering clear of confrontation with biker militias and the local Second Amendment Brigade.
Method in the Madness
To the naïve observer, and even to veterans of realpolitik, the risks of such an adventure seem obvious. Despite its limited scale, its blitzkrieg implementation, and the proven unresponsiveness of the target government, the operation was fraught with danger. Any overreaching by the Canadians or any inadvertent decisiveness by America could have had dire consequences for NAFTA.
What then did Canada hope to gain by such a potentially destabilizing act? Like the strategy itself, the key was a deliberate calculation of political risk and benefit worthy of their Old World masters.
Canada had never regarded geography as a dull subject. Their government’s educational expenses in this area and their students’ consistently high standardized scores should have been a warning.
Their apparently modest move into the northernmost states, even if it had halted in Rugby, North Dakota, would have given them control over the midpoint of geographical North America. Backed by their huge, often overlooked landmass near the Arctic, Canada would have controlled half the continent.
In an even more disturbing development, some key Canadian strategists were pushing for yet more ambitious military moves based on the “Acorn Theory.” This arcane proposal posited that the United States had so many land-based missiles in so many widely scattered silos that they would have difficulty in keeping track of them all. If enough “fog of war” could be generated at the critical moment, Canadian forces could absorb several sites and the US might just “forget” where it had put them.
The plan called for specialized advance elements to truck in fiberglass grain silos from the Vancouver Agricultural Exposition and erect them over the missile launch sites to fool satellite observation. Live cows grazing nearby would add verisimilitude and reinforce the bluff. By the time lists could be cross-checked, Canada would be an established nuclear power.
With these launch vehicles as the core of a strategic nuclear “monad,” Canada could sit tall at any conference table. This strengthened position could ultimately lead to a permanent seat on the UN Security Council and veto power equal to that of their former American cousins.
On a note closer to the hearts of most Canadians, the new southern frontier would give chill-weary Canadians a few more precious minutes of winter evening light and several more degrees Fahrenheit in January. Combined with the hardened claims to Atlantic beaches, this “window on the sun” would be “worth fighting for” according to media polls in Toronto and Montreal.
Health authorities in the US warn that mental, emotional and cognitive effects of endemic “cabin fever” could account for such bellicosity. They warn planners not to underestimate the volcanic aggressiveness of this shut-in psychosis.
Historical irritation over perceived slights by a larger neighbor combined with nationalistic dreams of glory denied could have been intensified by the deep-seated, almost phototropic drive toward heat and light.
Academic exercise — or brush with destiny? Canadian officials are dismissing the plan as a lighthearted prank among wonks.
But sometimes the gap between normalcy and Armageddon can be as thin as a maple leaf.
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