The most highly derogatory order of the irremovable finger

Tee Emm was a monthly Training Memoranda published by the Royal Air Force from April 1941 to March 1946. Although written in a very entertaining way (led by George Anthony Armstrong Willis) and illustrated by cartoonist Bill Hooper, the magazine had a very serious purpose. The publication was a very readable technical and safety manual, and its lessons, often presented using examples of how not to do things, no doubt saved many a serviceman's life.

 Pilot Officer Prune and his dog Binder were featured in many Tee Emm stories. Prune and Binder are contemporaries of Aircraftman Plonk, also drawn by Bill Hooper.

A regular and popular feature was the Most Highly Derogatory Order of the Irremovable Finger, a fictional award for RAF servicemen exemplifying sheer stupidity and failure to follow proper procedures. Real cases (without naming names) were noted as lessons for others, and often featured pilots, since their screw-ups were the most obvious and dramatic. It was said that Bill Hooper received a citation from the Germans for the Iron Cross to be given to Pilot Officer Prune for destroying so many allied aircraft.

A few of the Irremovable Finger write-ups are copied here:

"Faith et Blind Hope"

Tee Emm, August 1942:

The most highly derogatory order of the irremovable finger (Patron: Pilot Officer Prune) has this month been awarded to Pupil Pilot ____ for Conspicuous Helpfulness to the Wrong People, and to Pilot Officer ____ for Conspicuous Helpfulness in the Wrong Manner.

As navigator of a Wellington the former officer took upon himself the responsibility of switching off the TR9 from the wireless operator’s position. Instead, however, he switched it to transmit. Unable to locate the primary target he gave the pilot the course to steer to reach the alternative target, over the inter-com. When over this target the pilot gave him the height, aircraft heading and Indicated Air Speed. The crew reported intense and accurate A.A. And no wonder.

The second award goes to the navigator of an Anson. His pilot, while flying low owing to bad weather conditions, opened the hinged emergency window near his seat, but found the screw catch would not hold the window open. Pilot Officer ____ therefore leaned across to help make it stay open, and inadvertently knocked the starboard switches to off. The pilot proceeded flying on one engine, not realising what had happened. In his further efforts to tie the window up with string Pilot Officer ____ knocked the port switches to off, and as the aeroplane was then at 300 feet, the pilot had to make a crash landing in a hedge.

Pilot Officer Prune says, "Any landing you can walk away from is a good one."

Tee Emm, December 1942:

The most highly derogatory order of the irremovable finger (Patron: Pilot Officer Prune) has this month been awarded to P/O ____ for complete Superfluous Devotion to Duty.

This officer on returning at night from a bombing raid in very poor visibility discovered he had accidentally set red on black and so had for some hours been flying on a reciprocal instead of the course for home. Realising his mistake he then set course for base (270°) expecting to get no further than Holland if lucky. When the fuel at last gave out – as he anticipated – he made a good forced landing and at once set fire to his aircraft to prevent it falling into enemy hands. He and his crew then made a quick escape across the countryside – only to find themselves almost immediately opposite the “Rose & Crown,” Little Muddycombe, England.

Binder always welcomed Pilot Officer Prune home.

Tee Emm, May 1943:

The most highly derogatory order of the irremovable finger (Patron: Pilot Officer Prune) has this month been awarded to Sergeant ____ for Conspicuous Eagerness to Get Cracking.

About to start his first night flying in the Squadron, he taxied up to the post, and the A.C.P., being a keen type, gave him a “green.” He thereupon proceeded to take off, although he did not turn on to the flare path and could not see any semblance of a flare path. Eventually he effected an entry into a potato field through a gate, after passing through several hedges, a considerable amount of barbed wire entanglements and across a road. Special mention is made of his entry through the gate, as by so doing he incidentally, but not intentionally, saved his undercarriage.

Prune doesn't always save the undercarriage.

Tee Emm, June 1943:

The most highly derogatory order of the irremovable finger (Patron: Pilot Officer Prune) has this month been awarded to Pilot Officer ____ for the Best and Quickest Reply to an Enquiring Instructor.

When asked by his Instructor what action he would take if, when approaching to land he heard the undercarriage warning horn, he replied: “I should open the throttles slightly to stop the horn blowing and upon landing would remove the fuse.”

The M.H.D.O.I.F. has also been awarded to Group Captain ____ Commanding ____ Station for Supremely Quick Recognition.

A Navigator on his Station was taking shots with his sextant when the Station Commander motored past. Seeing the Navigator he at once stopped his car, reversed, and bawled out: “Who gave you permission to use a camera?”

Carefree Pilot Officer Prune

Tee Emm, December 1943:

The most highly derogatory order of the irremovable finger (Patron: Pilot Officer Prune) has this month been awarded to Sergeant Pilot ____ for Knowing How to Do a Turn Wrongly – and Doing It.

Subsequent to an accident he submitted this report: “I put the plane into a steep turn, but over-controlled on the rudder, and tried to correct by a backward movement on the control column. After the crash I realised this was wrong.”

In the heat of the moment, Prune forgets how to board a spitfire.

Tee Emm, November 1944:

The most highly derogatory order of the irremovable finger (Patron: Pilot Officer Prune) has this month been awarded to Pupil Pilot ____ for Conspicuous Ability to Detect Even the Slightest Little Thing Wrong.

Detailed to take up a trainer aircraft, No. 80, he climbed into an aircraft whose number was 61 and started it up. It fired for a few revolutions and he then reported by R/T to the Control Tower that his engine was running very roughly. He was informed that this was perhaps to be expected as he was in an unserviceable aircraft, which was minus the propeller.

Prune's crew

More from Tee Emm:
Lessons from Pilot Officer Prune
RAF Uniform-ity

For actual samples of Tee Emm magazines, go to:
http://www.aviationancestry.co.uk/tm

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Lessons from Pilot Officer Prune

Tales from the Battle of Britain (between July and October 1940) helped convince the British Air Ministry that a Training Memorandum publication was sorely needed for all air force personnel. The monthly Tee Emm publication was introduced in 1941 to enforce safety and proper training.

The magazine often used examples of blunders and ignorance (the Pilot Officer Prune way) to teach important lessons, but also published real cases in which correct action saved lives, property, and equipment. How to bale out properly was a lesson all flyers were expected to commit to memory.

The Perfect Baleout

Tee Emm, March 1943

The following report has been received from a pilot. We don’t know his name. All we know is that it certainly couldn’t have been P.O. Prune!

 

Pilot Officer Prune bales out the hard way.

“I was at about 5,000 feet and 10 miles out to sea when circumstances necessitated baling out; it is most inadvisable to try to put a fighter of the Hurricane or Tomahawk variety down on the sea, unless, of course, the pilot has had plenty of experience in submarines. Having decided to bale out, I followed the rules to the letter. I made certain of locking the hood back, disconnected my oxygen tube and R/T wire, turned the plane on its back and completed the manoeuvre by simultaneously pushing the stick hard forward and pulling at the sutton harness pin. My R/T was u/s or I should have announced the fact that I intended to become a member of the caterpillar club.

“The sensation was extremely pleasant; I left the aircraft at 4,000 feet and there was no fear of being hit on the head with the tail unit, as I seemed to be shot out of the aircraft very forcibly.

“I floated down to about 1,500 feet before pulling the ripcord (no need to fumble and panic!) and grasped it with my right hand. I didn’t roll myself up in a ball as I knew my parachute straps were a shade on the loose side; instead I straightened my back. The ’chute opened almost as soon as I had pulled the ripcord, and I suffered no inconvenience from the slight jerk of the straps. When descending on to the sea, the quick release box should be turned to red when about 30 feet up, and should be banged hard just as the feet enter or are about to enter the water. This is easier to do than it sounds, but the great thing is not to do it too soon, as altitude is very difficult to judge when over the sea. Hold your nose with your left hand, elbow well into your side, and remember, keep your feet together. This is what I was once told and it certainly paid to follow it out.

Prune awaits rescue

“I was lucky in having a parachute dinghy, and I had put it on properly, the lanyard being attached to my Mae West. The parachute started to float away dragging the harness, but I was able, by using the lanyard, to reach the dinghy and pull it out of its canvas case. I followed the instructions again and only turned the compressed air bottle valve very slowly; if it is turned on like a tap it freezes up at once, and then there is only the hand pump, which may be broken. My dinghy inflated itself beautifully and I had no need to use the hand pump at all during the whole of my 4½ hours at sea.

“If one rehearses in one’s mind two or three times just what one will have to do if certain things happen, then, if the time ever comes, one finds that one’s brain works at an unprecedented pace, and one remembers what to do and when. The man who has never thought about it may easily miss something which will inconvenience him.

“One excellent piece of advice given to me, which I must pass on. However hot it is, wear leather gauntlets. Shorts and short-sleeved shirts are hopeless if there is a fire, which is always a possibility. A pair of light overalls, or a long-sleeved golfing jacket and a pair of slacks fastened at the angle or inside flying boots, would quite likely enable you to make a successful ‘Bale out’ by giving you protection and confidence. It is not a bad idea to carry a full flask. I did, and I used it, too!”

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The spitfire pilot in this short clip (1:31) knew the value of proper bale out procedures:

Likewise, the downed airmen who "met with a spot of trouble" appreciate a tot of rum and a cigarette aboard the RAF rescue boat (1:06):

This 15-minute RAF training film details correct ditching procedures used by a bomber crew:

For the Tee Emm staff, even the most obvious lesson was a necessary lesson, as sorry anecdotes collected. The magazine repeatedly drilled readers on the need to adhere to even the most basic of safety regulations.

Strap Yourself In

Tee Emm, August 1942

That snappy little book, Flying Regulations for the Royal Air Force, has a Section E. Section E is all about Safety Belts. Para. 4 of Section E says that safety belts are to be “properly secured during take off … during landing, and in flying, except when carrying out duties which necessitate moving about the aircraft.” So far so good.

Now regulations as P.O. Prune knows only too well, are made to be broken – in fact, at the suggestion of his C.O. he refrained from going on a promised “forty-eight” only last week-end by way of helping himself to remember than oily bowsers are not mirages but solid material through which a aircraft cannot really taxi, and that he’s supposed to look out for them. On the other hand, there is generally a good reason for regulations apart from that of just making things more difficult.

Now the reason for properly strapping yourself in … Prune here interrupts to say, “Oh, I know that! It’s to prevent you falling out if you start any aerobatics. But as long as I’m not intending …” We here interrupt Prune to say that not only do you damage yourself irrevocably by falling out during aerobatics, but you can do it just as irrevocably by falling about inside the aircraft, particularly during a forced landing; or you can lose control at a low altitude and not regain it till too late. And all of these things can happen if you are not properly strapped in. 

P/O Prune learns the hard way to tighten his straps.

But example is better than precept, as Prune says – or would say if he knew just what precept meant (he has just remarked that he was made a precept his last term at school) – so here are a few extracts from official reports on some last year’s accidents, taken at random and covering many different types of aircraft. The same thing happened this year.

“March, 1941. Blenheim. Pilot … was accidentally thrown out. He was in the habit of flying with his harness unfastened and sliding roof open.”

“August, 1941. Spitfire. Forced landing after engine-failure. Pilot thrown forward and killed. He had unstrapped himself despite regulation to the contrary.”

“May, 1941. Magister. Parachute moved forward and prevented backward movement of control column. Stalled turning in cloud. Air gunner thrown out. Not secured to aircraft and not wearing parachute pack.”

“June, 1941. Oxford. Bounced on landing. Thrown forward on to stick and throttle. Due to failing to strap himself in.”

“October, 1941.” Hampden. Lost control when cloud-flying. Pilot was not strapped in and was thrown forward on to the controls.”

And this last accident cost four lives.

So you see it is worth while remembering to strap yourself in – even though it’s only one of those regulations!

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Got Your Whistle?

Tee Emm, July 1942

A fighter pilot came down in the drink the other day and, though comparatively near land, he yet floated round for fifty-seven hours without being picked up. A small thing like a dinghy is difficult to see; indeed baled-out crews have had the experience of actually being nearly run down by ships without being seen or heard in spite of their shouts.

This fighter pilot might well have floated round much longer than fifty-seven hours but for one little thing – his whistle. He was not seen, but his whistle was heard. So always make certain before going out on ops, that you have your whistle – and your floating torch as well. You are entitled to be issued with these and your Equipment Officer will give them to you if you ask.

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Crews could not fly with copies of Tee Emm magazine. If you were unlucky enough to parachute into the hands of the enemy, you were expected to have committed to memory RAF rules for prisoners of war, especially rule number six!

Two Dozen Don’ts for Prisoners of War

Tee Emm, November 1941

1. Don’t tell your captors anything except your name and rank.
2. Don’t believe them if they insist you are bound by International Law to tell them your unit. That’s just Lie Number One.
3. Don’t believe Lies Numbers Two and Three, Four or Five; that they will ill-treat or penalize you if you don’t talk; that they will give you good treatment if you do; that they are merely anxious for a friendly chat with a brave enemy; or that some friend of yours has already Told All. Your answer to these should be monosyllabic and plural.
4. Don’t forget that everyone round you is an Enemy – till you know him for certain to be a friend.
5. Even then don’t discuss anything with him.
6. In short, DON’T OPEN YOUR DARN MOUTH.
7. Don’t forget the enemy want to know everything you can tell them, however apparently insignificant, about movements of units, aircraft, air stations, air tactics, defences, politics, morale, or even the weather.
8. So D.O.Y.D.M.
9. Don’t forget they can piece things together; that papers, letters, diaries, practically anything in your aircraft or on your person from maps to tram tickets is capable of giving them information.
10. So don’t forget to destroy your aircraft after you come down, and your tram tickets before you go up.
11. Don’t think you’ve fooled them when they give up interrogating you, and start to chat on harmless topics. No topic is harmless when you’re a prisoner.
12. Don’t believe in anyone’s protestation of sympathy or friendship, be they guards, fellow prisoners, kindly interrogators, or even pretty hospital nurses. It’s just the good old confidence trick.
13. Don’t imagine there isn’t a microphone in your room because you can’t see it.
14. D.O.Y.D.M.
15. Don’t believe in either fairies or friendly neutrals. There ain’t no such thing.
16. Don’t believe a word you are told by anyone.
17. Don’t let yourself, above all, be deceived by the happy chance of meeting a friend after a spell of solitary confinement. You may be sure that walls have ears.
18. D.O.Y.D.M.
19. Don’t be downhearted. Canaries sometimes sing; prisoners sometime escape.
20. Don’t write letters to friends giving anything away, either in the address or the contents.
21. Don’t try to be clever under examination. You will end up by being too clever by half, which will be half as clever as the other fellow. He’s an expert on getting things out of people. That’s why he’s there.
22. Don’t forget your comrades’ lives depend on your observing these Don’ts.
23. D.O.Y.D.M.
24. Don’t forget all this is in Air Publication 1548. But, as you must not take it into the air, you unfortunately won’t be able to consult it when you need it most. The answer is to Know It By Heart.

Your Station should have an Instructional Film, called “Interrogation of Prisoners.” You should have seen it. If you haven’t, ask to do so. It’ll show you the damage that can be done by so small a thing as a bus ticket, left accidentally in a pocket.

D.O.Y.D.M.

More from Tee Emm:
The most highly derogatory order of the irremovable finger
RAF Uniform-ity


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RAF uniform-ity

If Prune can do it, why not you?

Tee Emm, April 1943

Walking down Piccadilly the other day we saw a sight which staggered us. And that definitely is something, because we’re not the type to be staggered by anything we see in Picadilly.

To make a short story long, we had been standing at a corner watching R.A.F. officers go past. Amongst other things we were musing gently on the extraordinary variety of ways in which officers’ uniforms can be worn, and soon we found ourselves thinking how extremely sloppy a uniform looks if not worn properly. More so than civilian clothes, because civilian clothes are of all types and shapes and colours, and can be worn in various ways, while uniforms are meant to be all worn alike. The very word “uniform” tells you that.

Pilot Officer Prune and Corporal Murray Fraser looking sharp in their great-coats.

Dad is with nephew Murray in front of Houldens' home at 76 Pilgrim Avenue, Winnipeg.

Now one of the big ideas in dressing all members of a Service in the same clothes is that they can not only look alike but also look smart. And when something that is meant to be smart is badly worn it always appears more sloppy than something that isn’t meant to be smart. All of which is merely a long-winded way of saying that you can wear many types of civilian great-coat in many ways, but there is only one way of wearing an R.A.F. great-coat – and there is only one type of great-coat. Or you can wear, say, a civilian felt hat bashed in and out and round about in any way you please, and no one noticed it much; but when you wear a uniform cap with the stiffening wire pulled out and the thing drooping down all round your head like a tired pancake, you do get noticed.

Girls love a man in uniform. 

And the notice is unfavourable – though you may think the general effect is pretty dashing. Apart from its being unfavourable to you personally – because we are told that the Provost Marshal’s boys can pull you up for it – it is also unfavourable to the Service.

Prune and Fraser rocking the casual look. Britain, 1945

On this subject of uniform, and the Service, we had in Tee Emm, exactly a year ago, an article called “What’s in a Uniform.” (What was in that particular uniform turned out to be Waff Winsum, but that’s neither here nor there – “Wish it was here,” says P.O. Prune.) We’d like to repeat that extract.

“We are members of a fighting service, and we are, or should be proud of that fact. Being proud of belonging to the R.A.F. means, amongst other things, that we do not want to give it a bad name in any way. And one of the ways in which we can give it a bad name is by going about sloppily dressed and not caring how we look. For hundreds of years now infantry regiments have vied with one another in smartness of turnout, in showing their pride in wearing the King’s uniform. They felt that if they looked smarter than other regiments it meant that they were better than other regiments; they thereby enhanced the regiment’s reputation. The R.A.F., too, has no small reputation; it is up to us to reflect that reputation in our bearing and personal appearance.”

Ad from Contact, Trenton's wartime magazine

And a happy gang on leave at the Royal York. Dad (right) is in his summer uniform.

In other words, tidiness and smartness are a reflection of efficiency. A badly-turned-out officer of the R.A.F. walking down Picadilly just behind a smart private in the Army is a bad mark against the whole Air Force. The unconscious implication is that the Air Force is less efficient than the Army.

Another small point, but worth considering, is that it is hardly fair on the many airmen who may see a slovenly officer, and think to themselves “Why should I have to be smart when our officers go around looking like nothing on earth?” So they cease bothering and pretty soon get picked up by the Service Police, who funnily enough don’t take that as an excuse.

It's hard to look spiffy when you're dragging a duffel bag around.

To continue making a short story long what we want to emphasise – at risk of being boring – is that there is no real merit in being untidy. Your uniform is not really yours in the sense of the word: it is the King’s, and if you can’t show pride in it you aren’t showing pride in the King’s service. And if you can’t show pride in it you aren’t showing pride in the King’s service. And if you can’t show pride in your Service you oughtn’t to be in it.

Particularly should you show this pride when on leave or otherwise moving about among civilians and sister Services. What you do on the Station depends largely on your Station Master; but in Piccadilly it depends on yourself – up to the point where it may suddenly and unpleasantly come to depend on the Provost Marshal. A friendly warning!

Still buttoned up, but more relaxed now that the war is over! Britain, 1945

Which brings us to what we started to tell you about, i.e., the sight which staggered us in Piccadilly. It was P.O. Prune, up in town to keep a date with a frippet. And for once he was smartly dressed.

No one except us recognized him, of course, in that disguise; but in case you don’t believe it we took a photo of him which we publish herewith!

Still, if even Prune can do it, why not you?

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Rookie air force personnel were schooled in the proper way to do, well, everything. Aircraftman Plonk (Prune's contemporary) tries his best:

Saluting from a tire rut was not covered in the RAF's 1o-minute instructional video for new recruits:

More from Tee Emm:
The most highly derogatory order of the irremovable finger
Lessons from Pilot Officer Prune

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Life imitates art

One day in the late 1970s I was at home when Mom called me from a small art gallery at the local shopping mall. She had spotted a print she loved and wanted me to see it. When I arrived I agreed that someone in our family ought to have it, and was surprised and delighted when Mom offered to buy it for me. I had the print framed and have enjoyed it for decades.

A Helping Hand by William Biddle

Artist William Biddle has a gallery in Dunnville, Ontario. He trained for five years at the Art Students League in New York City prior to a 26-year career as a commercial illustrator in Toronto. Now approaching 80, he takes a nostalgic approach to his work, and says he likes to include a story in his paintings. Much of his recent work appears in calendars. Nostalgia sells.

Mom recognized the story this painting told. The house is reminiscent of 400 St. Charles Street, of course, but it was the one kid helping the other that clinched it for Mom. A family photo came to mind immediately; the parallel was obvious:

Twins Karen and Ruth play boats, about 1967.

Wally had built the ship, but milk carton boats floated well, too.

Life imitates art and art imitates life. When I see the picture I am reminded of an idyllic childhood and the family home we all loved. It never fails to make me smile. 

400 St. Charles Street

Oscar Wilde wrote that “life imitates art far more than art imitates life” (The Decay of Lying, 1891). In other words, art affects the way we look at the world around us, and artists help us see the beauty in nature. 

Winnipeg artist David Ristau would probably feel flattered by the thought, but would agree with the Greeks, who believed that art imitates life. Ristau has written that he is inspired by nature and the scenes around him. (As a bus driver, he is also inspired by buses!) 

Blizzard of ’66, by David Ristau

Ristau described this second print in my collection as follows:

I painted this picture in the summer of 1997, the summer following the blizzard and the flood of the century. I had painted snow pictures before. Mountains of snow and ice somehow represent Manitoba to me more than even the railways or endless flatlands. Perhaps being born in Winnipeg and never having gone anywhere warm in the winter has left an indelible impression on me.

The blizzard of ’66, having time and nostalgia on its side, will probably always be remembered as the worst. Even though Winnipeg is renowned for its snow removal, the vision of the trolley buses that struggled to the end and finally had to concede to nature, reminds us of its power. Then for a day or two we have peace and tranquility.

Why do Winnipeggers love scenes like this, someone from California might ask? Perhaps it is that moment of catharsis we get when it releases us from the tensions of everyday life. Or does it remind us of our indomitable spirit? The stories of how we dug ourselves out in a matter of days and carried on as usual amaze our southern relatives. This is what we remind them of when they come to visit us in October and complain how cold it is here.

This style of painting is always experimental to me. It is not entirely predictable and difficult to do with acrylic paint. Many people have remarked to me that they haven’t seen anything like it before and want to know how I do it. It was an enjoyable painting for me to do because although I still included a lot of detail it allowed me to loosen up a bit.

Ristau’s work certainly does imitate life. Blizzard of ’66 is based on an actual photograph from the Winnipeg Free Press.

Portage Avenue and Donald Street, March 5, 1966.

Photo by Jack Ablett, Winnipeg Free Press.

I am one of those Winnipeggers who is intrigued by paintings of snow, as Ristau has observed. Snow is just so, well, familiar. Many of us remember this particular storm as a benchmark for Winnipeg blizzards.

The blizzard of Friday, March 4, 1966 is especially memorable to me because the storm struck one day before my 9th birthday. March 5 was a bright, sunny Saturday, and Mom hosted a great birthday party for her twins. Many little friends attended, but parents had been unable to get out to shop for gifts, and Karen and I were delighted to receive several dollar bills instead. 

The blizzard was unique. It was expected to bypass Winnipeg to the south as it headed east, but surprised everyone when it turned north. There were reports of thunder and lightning during the storm, which only added to the drama. Another 7 mph more and the wicked winds would have reached hurricane status.

A local weather forecaster’s blog gives a thorough account of the blizzard:

Friday March 4th 1966 - The Great Blizzard arrives in southern Manitoba 

By the time Winnipeggers awoke Friday morning March 4th, blizzard conditions were widespread across the city and throughout the Red River valley. The pressure gradient between the intensifying storm system over southern Minnesota and the high pressure ridge in Saskatchewan was producing incredibly strong northerly winds through the Red River valley, with sustained wind speeds of 70-80 km/h in Winnipeg, gusting as high as 113 km/h (70 mph, 61 knots). The combination of the severe winds and heavy snowfall from the storm was producing severe blowing and drifting snow with whiteout conditions across the city and valley. Visibility at Winnipeg airport would drop to zero by 4 am Friday, and would stay at zero for 14 consecutive hours into the evening. 

The slow moving storm system would loop over Minnesota on March 4th, maintaining blizzard conditions over Winnipeg for almost 20 straight hours, and up to 36 hours over portions of the southern Red River valley. The storm dumped 35.6 cm of snow in Winnipeg that day, the second heaviest one-day snowfall on record in the city (the greatest one-day snowfall of 38.1 cm fell on the exact same date, March 4th, back in 1935). The heavy snowfall combined with storm force winds led to massive drifts in the city, some as high as rooftops of houses. People who ventured to work or stores in the morning were trapped as roads became impassable.

City buses were shut down by 11 am as streets became blocked with drifts and stranded vehicles. Hundreds of people were stranded downtown at the Bay and Eaton’s department stores, which became storm shelters for people for the night until they could find a way home. The city was paralyzed through the weekend into Monday before things could finally get cleared up for the new work week. At least two deaths in the city were blamed on the storm due to heart attacks, and snow removal costs for Winnipeg were upwards of $1 million (1966 dollars), a huge sum back then.

Similar scenes were observed throughout the Red River valley and North Dakota, with rural areas immobilized for days by massive drifts left by the blizzard. 30-50 cm of snow fell throughout the Red River valley and southeast Manitoba during the blizzard, with up to 70 cm recorded in Grand Forks from March 2nd to 5th. 50 years later, the Blizzard of 1966 still ranks as one of the most severe blizzards ever to hit Winnipeg and the Red River valley, as well as North Dakota.

Note: A similarly strong blizzard slammed Winnipeg and southern Manitoba on November 7-8, 1986, dumping 35 cm of snow on the city along with 70-90 km/h winds bringing the city to a standstill. Unlike the 1966 blizzard however, the storm occurred late Friday through Saturday, was well forecast, and did not strand as many people as the 1966 blizzard did. Also, the blizzard of April 4-7, 1997 was another severe blizzard to hit the Red River valley. That storm was a longer duration event, lasting 3 full days, and dumping a total of 48 cm of snow on Winnipeg along with blizzard conditions for a full 27 hours. That blizzard eventually led to the disastrous “Flood of the century” that spring over the Red River valley.

Blizzard of 1966 - by the Numbers (Winnipeg)

• Number of consecutive hours with blizzard conditions: 18 (2 am - 9 pm)
• Number of consecutive hours with zero visibility: 14 (4 am - 7 pm)
• Wind speeds: North 70-80 km/h sustained, with gusts over 100 km/h
• Peak gust: 113 km/h (70 mph, 61 knots)
• Snowfall: 35.6 cm (14 inches)
• Lowest central pressure of storm: 983 mb on the 3rd, 987 mb on the 4th
• Snow depth: went from 30 cm pre-storm to 66 cm after storm
• Snowdrifts: 1-3 meters
• Fatalities: 2 (heart attacks)
• Cost of clean up: $1 million (1966 dollars)

Note: Official blizzard conditions are defined as a visibility of 400 meters or less and wind speeds of 40 km/h or more, lasting for at least 4 hours.

LINKS

Artist William Biddle:

https://www.sachem.ca/whatson-story/6159399-artist-shares-his-advice-on-the-trade

Blizzard of ’66:

1) CBC video:

http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/manitoba/cbc-manitoba-vault-archives-1966-winnipeg-blizzard-1.3468613

2) From a weather blog:

http://robsobsblog.blogspot.ca/2016/03/blast-from-past-50th-anniversary-of.html

3) George Siamandes, local historian:
http://timemachine.siamandas.com/PAGES/winnipeg_stories/BLIZZARD_1966.htm

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