330
kilometers northwest of the Canadian capital of Ottawa lies the
town of Carp. At first glance the place might seem
unremarkable, no different from the countless other sleepy little
towns dotted across rural Ontario. But Carp is a small town with a
big secret. For 35 years it was the site of a vital piece of Cold
War infrastructure, one intended to preserve the function of the
Canadian Government in the event of a nuclear war. On the outskirts
of town, buried under a hill in an old gravel quarry, lies a
massive fallout shelter simply known as the Diefenbunker.
Officially called the Emergency Government Headquarters, the
Diefenbunker took its nickname from Prime Minister John
Diefenbaker, who authorized its construction in 1959. A truly
massive structure, the Diefenbunker stands four storeys deep,
covers an area of 9000 square meters, and was poured from 32,000
tons of reinforced concrete. Designed to shelter the Prime Minister
and 564 Cabinet members, staff, and military personnel for up to a
month without resupply, the facility is equipped with its own
Diesel generators, air filtering equipment, decontamination
facilities, a three-bed hospital with surgical suite, a dentist’s
office, a TV broadcast studio for the Canadian Broadcasting
Corporation or CBC, a jail, and even a vault to store the Bank of
Canada’s gold reserves. The whole structure is suspended on massive
springs to damp out shock waves while the 1-meter-thick steel
entrance doors are built into the wall of a long tunnel running
through a hill, allowing the blast wave from a nuclear explosion to
blow harmlessly past. As-designed, the Diefenbunker was intended to
withstand a nuclear blast of up to 5 Megatons 2 kilometres
away.
Yet despite this sophistication, the Diefenbunker was nearly
obsolete before it was finished, a consequence of the
ever-increasing power and accuracy of Soviet ICBMs. This
vulnerability was somewhat offset by locating the bunker in Carp,
as it was assumed that Russian missiles would be targeted at the
Capital itself. But for this to work, the location of the
Diefenbunker had to be kept secret – a difficult task for such a
massive construction project. Luckily, the Canadian Army already
operated a chain of communications bunkers across Canada, so
Canadian Government simply claimed that the Emergency Government
Headquarters was just another one of these bunkers, even giving it
the codename Experimental Army Signals Establishment, or EASE.
While this cover story was widely accepted by the public, one
man was not so convinced: George Brimmell, an investigative
reporter for the Toronto Telegram newspaper. Convinced there must
be something more to the story, in 1961 Brimmell hired a helicopter
and flew over the construction site in Carp to have a look for
himself. Almost immediately, he spotted something out of place:
toilets. 78 of them to be exact, sitting in a material
handling yard awaiting installation. To Brimmell, something about
this smelled decidedly off; if the Government’s story was to be
believed and this was merely a communications bunker for 150 men,
78 toilets was rather excessive. There could only be one
conclusion: this was, in fact, the Canadian Government’s secret
fallout shelter. On September 11, 1961, Brimmell broke the story in
the Telegram under the headline This is the Diefenbunker,
coining the name the facility has affectionately known by ever
since. Faced with Brimmell’s overwhelming evidence, the Canadian
Government was forced, much to its annoyance, to admit to the
existence of the Emergency Government Headquarters. And so what was
supposed to be Canada’s greatest Cold War secret was exposed by
nothing more than some poorly-placed toilets.
Despite the facility’s popular nickname, ironically Prime
Minister Diefenbaker swore he would never set foot inside the
bunker. This is because spouses of key personnel were not allowed
inside, and Diefenbaker preferred to stay in his own home fallout
shelter with his family. Not that he was ever forced to make the
choice; throughout its 35 years of operation only one Canadian
Prime Minister – Pierre Trudeau – ever visited the Diefenbunker.
Nor was any gold ever stored in its ultra-secure vault; in fact,
following Canada’s abandonment of the Gold Standard in 1971, the
vault was largely used as a gym by the 120 military personnel
permanently stationed in the bunker. With the end of the Cold War,
in 1994 the Diefenbunker was finally shut down and stripped of all
its equipment. And this unique piece of Cold War history might have
been lost forever were it not for a small dedicated group of
volunteers determined to preserve it for posterity. Indeed, the
Diefenbunker was mere weeks away from having its entrance tunnel
filled with concrete when in 1998 the Town of Carp and the
Diefenbunker Development Group took control of the site. Today the
restored bunker operates year-round as Canada’s Cold War Museum,
and stands as a stark reminder of a dark and fearful period in
World History. And yes: the 78 toilets are still there and in
working order.
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Bonus Facts
#1: While Canada has never officially developed or owned nuclear
weapons, between 1950 and 1984 various American nuclear weapons
were stationed on Canadian soil. The first weapons to arrive in
Canada were Mk.4 atomic bombs similar to the one dropped on
Nagasaki, which in 1950 were deployed to Goose Bay in Labrador for
use by American B-50 bombers flying northern deterrence
patrols. On November 10 of that year, when the bombs were
being flown back to America, one bomber encountered engine trouble
and was forced to jettison its weapon over the St. Lawrence river.
While the bomb did not have its Plutonium core installed, the
conventional explosives aboard detonated, contaminating the river
with other radioactive components. However, Canada’s relationship
with nuclear weapons would soon become far more hands-on.
In the early 1950s the main nuclear threat to North America was
from Soviet bombers flying over the North Pole. With guided missile
technology still in its infancy, the only way of shooting down
these bombers was with manned interceptor aircraft armed with a
largely ineffective assortment of cannons and unguided rockets.
This left defence planners in a precarious position, as only one
bomber getting through could mean the deaths of hundreds of
thousands of civilians. In response, weapons manufacturers began
developing small nuclear weapons to destroy large numbers of
bombers at once. The first of these weapons to enter service was
the Douglas AIR-2 Genie, also known to pilots as the “Ding-Dong.”
The Genie was terrifying in its simplicity, having no guidance
system or sophisticated arming mechanisms: just a solid rocket
motor, time fuse, and a 1.5 kiloton nuclear warhead capable of
destroying anything within a 300 meter radius. The Genie was tested
only once as part of Operation Plumbbob on July 19, 1957, being
launched at an altitude of 20,000 feet over the Nevada Test Site
from an F-89 Scorpion interceptor. To prove that the weapon was
safe to use over populated areas, five Air Force Officers
volunteered to stand below the blast without any sort of protective
gear. For more on this, see our video: That
Time Five Dudes Volunteered to Stand at Ground Zero of a Nuclear
Blast
The second nuclear air-defence weapon to be developed was the
Boeing CIM-10 Bomarc, a ramjet-powered, ground-launched guided
missile armed with a 10 kiloton warhead. The presence of the Genie
and Bomarc in the US inventory made the Canadian Government more
than a little nervous, as even if these weapons were deployed as
far north as possible along the border, their limited range meant
that interception would likely occur over Canadian cities. In order
to push the interception range further north, in 1960 the
government of Prime Minister John Diefenbaker reluctantly agreed to
build Bomarc missile bases in Canada. This decision proved
extremely controversial, especially as it contributed to the
cancellation of the highly-advanced CF-105 Avro Arrow interceptor –
an decision that still provokes passionate debate in Canada to this
day. At first the leader of the opposition, Lester Pearson, opposed
the adoption of nuclear weapons, but later changed his mind and
largely on this basis won the 1963 election. The first
nuclear-armed Bomarcs arrived at Canadian Forces Base North Bay in
December of that year.
In addition to the Bomarcs, CF-101 Voodoo interceptors based in
Canada carried Genie rockets, while RCAF CF-104 Starfighters
deployed in Germany were armed with various nuclear bombs with
yields of up to 1 Megaton. Finally, Canadian Army troops in Germany
were equipped with the MGR-1 Honest John unguided ground-to-ground
rocket, which could carry up to a 61-kiloton warhead. Officially,
all these warheads remained the property of the United States, with
Canadian personnel required to obtain consent from an American
liaison officer before loading them onto Canadian aircraft.
Canada’s time as a nuclear-armed nation came to an end in 1984
when its Genie rockets and CF-104 Starfighters finally became
obsolete and were retired from service. Since then Canada has
signed various non-proliferation treaties and has disavowed any
future possession or use of nuclear weapons.
#2: The Diefenbunker incident wasn’t the only time toilets
nearly gave away Cold War secrets. When the Space Transport System,
better known as the Space Shuttle, was designed in the late 1970s,
one of its key design parameters was that its cargo bay be large
enough to carry military satellites. Between 1982 and 1992, the
Space Shuttle flew 10 joint missions to deploy secret Department of
Defence payloads, details of which remain classified to this day.
Maintaining secrecy on these missions was challenging, as the
majority of the crews were regular NASA astronauts without
high-level security clearance, and the Shuttle was not equipped
with secure communications equipment. But the greatest security
threat came from an unexpected source: the Shuttle’s toilet.
Incredibly, the toilet was equipped with a microphone so that NASA
flight surgeons could monitor the astronaut’s digestive health. As
the military feared that this microphone could potentially pick up
conversations regarding the classified payload, once the Shuttle
landed it fell to an unfortunate Military Intelligence officer to
sit through several days worth of recorded fart noises to ensure no
vital secrets were revealed. And you thought your job was
shit…
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