This one is for all the Haligonians (yeah, that’s what they call themselves) out there that can actually read. Can you honestly say you’re enjoying yourself over in the goddamn maritimes. That’s right, lower-case “m”, bitch. It doesn’t deserve a capitalization.
Are you having fun with your hurricanes, blizzards, and lack of an NHL team? Christ, you guys don’t even have the CFL out there. Fucking Saskatchewan has a CFL team. Saskatchewan.
At this point why would anyone bother traveling east of Quebec City?
…
In all honesty I’ve got nothing against the city of Halifax. The title was just to perk some interest and get those sweet, sweet clicks. Daddy lives for clicks.
I’ve actually never been to visit Halifax but I’ve heard good things. I’m sure there are better places to vacation but there are probably a lot worse places too. Maybe the weather can be a little extreme at times but that’s Canada, right?
Also my fiancé lived there for a while and she’s been nagging me to go back which means they’ve got at least one supporter.
Good for them.
Now, the title has a second meaning as well. It turns out that during the Second World War, nobody wanted anything to do with Halifax. In fact, people fucking hated the port city.
And let me tell you, when the war ended, all the hatred and animosity that had been building for years boiled over in fantastic fashion. How fantastic are we talking? We’re talking a drunken, violent, destructive, hilarious, deadly, sex-fuelled riot that spanned for a day and a half. Those are, like, three of my favourite things. Which three? I’ll never tell.
What the hell is a Halifax?
If you find you just can’t get enough of the ‘Fax (that’s what locals call Halifax, you wouldn’t get it because you’re not a local) I go into more details on the importance of Halifax in my post Canada vs. The States.
So, before jumping into the depraved debauchery that occurred in immediate-post-war Halifax I feel I should give some background on the port for those who might be unaware of its history or of its very existence at all.
Halifax is a port-city located in the province of Nova Scotia on the east coast of Canada. It has always been important to the British Empire but its value increased significantly during both World Wars due to it being two days closer to Europe (and thus slightly less vulnerable to those pesky German submarines) than any other major North American port.
Halifax would see a small economic boom during the First World War as ships and sailors from around the world gathered there before crossing the Atlantic Ocean. On the downside, the war also gave Halifax the honour of experiencing histories largest man-made boom (this was before nuclear weapons) but that’s a whole other story.
After the war ended things settled down. I’m sure some note-worthy things occurred in Halifax during the 1920’s but I don’t care enough to look it up. It suffered just like the rest of the country (and most of the world) during the Great Depression, however, with the coming of another war things started looking up!
Then why all the hate?
“What a bum town this is!”, they snarled. “What a place to be dumped in. We’ll take Halifax apart!”
– A conversation heard many times in wartime Halifax
With some history out of the way we can dive into the reason we’re here: why was there all this hate for Halifax? I mean, technically the city didn’t do anything to anybody. And that right there is the problem – it didn’t do anything.
You see, before the Second World War began the population of Halifax stood at just under 68,000 people. When war broke out in September 1939, the port would once again become a major staging point for naval convoy’s bound for Europe. As a result the population jumped by nearly 60 percent and the nearby city of Dartmouth would increase by 73 percent.
One of the major issues was that very little was done in terms of increasing housing, public transit, infrastructure, or entertainment. Workers and their families flooded into the city to find jobs in the shipyards or government buildings but there were fewer and fewer places to put them. Vacancy rates for rooms and houses were near zero and the rent prices for those that were available were insanely high due to the demand. Lineups to get into the city’s few restaurants and movie theatres were always hours long so boredom became a serious issue.
This isn’t even mentioning the fact that most sailors (whether it be navy or merchant), soldiers, and airmen, weren’t often in the city for very long before moving onto Europe. This led to opportunistic business owners upping their prices for anyone in a uniform. How very patriotic of them, eh?
Sure, not every business or landlord gouged the hell out of these newcomers but enough did it to sow a considerable amount of discontent among servicemen, particularly the navy.
It’s all about the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol
Look, throughout history one of the few bonuses of being a soldier has been access to a steady supply of booze. Fighting in a war is stressful as hell (I speak with absolutely zero experience) and having a drink to take the edge off has been a soldiering staple since the days of the Roman Legions all the way up to the trenches of the First World War.
So how did Halifax manage to fuck up such a hallowed tradition? Well, in 1910, a bunch of damn prudes (definitely) and virgins (probably) voted to prohibit the sale of alcohol in Nova Scotia. The city of Halifax would hold out until 1916 when it too instituted prohibition. This was actually a trend that most of Canada followed at one point or another in the early 1900’s because everyone knows that kicking back with a beer is a gateway to murdering babies.
Prohibition would remain in place in Nova Scotia until it was finally repealed in October 1929. Problem solved, right? Time to line up some shots!
Wrong.
Because nothing is ever simple, after 1929, the only place to purchase alcohol was in government regulated stores. That’s right. No restaurants, bars, or hotels were permitted to sell booze. There were some private clubs where people could buy a drink but regular servicemen (and, ugh, poor people) weren’t allowed to join. As a result, illegal bars and brothels were about the only place a guy could grab a drink in Halifax outside of what was essentially a cafeteria that served beer on the naval base. And what kind of sailor doesn’t love letting off some steam under the watchful eye of their superior officers with literally no women around?
Are we starting to understand why people took such a disliking to Halifax? It’s expensive as hell, there’s very little to do recreationally, and you can’t even drown your sorrows in a bucket of whisky.
That’s right, I drink my whisky by the bucket-full.
Shit started when it all ended
“…This, combined with an organization to set up sing-songs and entertainment should go a long way to relieve the impact of large numbers of joyful service personnel upon the city.”
Rear-Admiral Leonard Murray, Commander-in-Chief North West Atlantic shortly before the war ended.
The people in charge weren’t totally ignorant to the fact that most sailors had a less than thrilling opinion of Halifax. They knew that the war ending could lead to trouble so what was their plan? They would just close everything. If nothing is open then nothing can be damaged, right?! Brilliant!
On the afternoon of May 7, 1945, word leaked out to the public that the war in Europe had ended. In response to this the city closed its eleven movie theatres, basically all the restaurants, and all the liquor stores. In lieu of enjoying the momentous occasion of a literal world war ending with a drink everyone was instead encouraged to participate in some sing-alongs organized by the church, parades down the main street, or to go watch some fireworks.
Yeah.
I’m sure men, women, and children suffering PTSD from almost six years of war were thrilled at the idea of sitting under a bunch of loud-ass explosions.
Anyways, it goes without saying that shit got out of hand and it got out of hand fucking fast. Rowdy sailors smashed the windows of a tram (streetcar) before setting it on fire along with a police car that was sent to disperse them.
After that a crowd of nearly 10,000 sailors and numerous civilians surged into the downtown core and started looting. What was target number one? The liquor stores, obviously. Storefronts were smashed in and the police were too few to stop the mob once they got started.
“The freeloaders had taken nearly 1,300 cases of beer and about 13,000 bottles of wine or spirits and the amount ‘liberated’ was enough to ensure the crowd would be back teeth awash for the rest of the night.”
Side-note: I plan on using the expression “back teeth awash” every single time I’m drinking so I can be even more annoying.
In all, three liquor stores were completely cleaned out by the looters. There were some other break-ins and vandalism but it mostly died down around one o’clock in the morning. The sailors stumbled back to their ships, the civilians went home, and most of them had bottles of booze hidden under their clothes.
“No Sir. It’s the Navy.”
“Halifax Constable William Edward Rafters had overheard sailors on the street that morning say they ‘had got the liquor stores last night and we’ll get the main warehouse today!'”
After the events of the previous night one would think that whoever was in charge would do what was necessary to keep order. When I say “necessary” I mean keep the sailors on the base and make sure you have enough beer on hand to keep them busy. Anything less than that is begging for trouble.
Spoiler: none of that shit happened.
The term “open gangway” is a hallowed naval tradition that allows sailors to disembark their ships and go ashore to celebrate. It turns out Rear-Admiral Leonard Murray (the ranking officer in Halifax) refused to believe that his men could have caused all the damage the previous night and instead chose to blame local civilians. As a result, he allowed “open gangway” to continue through the following day. Once the limited supply of beer on the base was consumed upwards of 25,000 servicemen once again descended upon the city.
Due to some terrible decisions, at least two trams were forcefully overtaken outside the naval base and started heading downtown loaded with riled up sailors. One was quickly totalled and abandoned while the other was travelling so fast it came off the tracks and smashed through a storefront. After that, numerous shops were looted and destroyed as the mob made its way to the nearby Alexander Keith’s Brewery.
A half-hearted attempt was made to defend the brewery but in the end the pent-up crowd was too much and they surged inside.
“From this one source 118,566 quart (about a litre) bottles were “liberated” and in short order several thousand men and women were thoroughly drunk; some laughed, some sang, some fought each other stripped to the waist.”
Stripped to the waist, eh?
But don’t worry, it gets even sexier.
Now that the crowd was well lubricated a few more inhibitions were thrown to the wind. There are sources stating that numerous sailors and members of the Women’s Royal Naval Service (referred to as Wrens) started, ahem, fornicating in public parks. That’s right, folks, people be fucking for all to see.
The streets would become absolutely crammed with people stumbling around in a drunken stupor causing trouble and generally making asses of themselves in the funniest ways possible. Department stores were completely looted so sailors and civilians dressed in random assortments of expensive clothing, shoes, and jewelry roamed the city. Men who were unable to find actual women danced with naked mannequins in the streets.
“At a large office desk dragged out into the street, a Petty Officer was writing furiously, handing out bogus discharges. From time to time, he would pick up the receiver of a phone, ripped from who knew where, and engage in imaginary conversations of a humourous nature.”
“Three ratings (sailors) going south were throwing looted candies to a bunch of children who were trailing them. Other urchins, some only seven or eight years old, carried boxes of candies, cigarettes, and bottles of beer.”
“…a merchant seaman reclined in a red leather chair on the sidewalk, graciously offering bottles from a carton at his feet.”
Sources show countless examples of these types of silly encounters. So, call me crazy, but if we look past the whole mass theft, destruction, public indecency, and mob rule, it seems as though the riot was just a giant house party that got out of control and spilled out onto the streets.
The butchers bill
Eventually the crowd was subdued, a curfew was enforced by the military, and order was restored on the night of May 8th. When the dust settled the Toronto Star reported that “the Halifax business area looks like London after a blitz.” Almost 400 people were arrested, 564 businesses were damaged, 207 shops were looted, and over 2600 windows were smashed. The Canadian government provided over one million dollars in compensation, a good chunk of which went to the Nova Scotia liquor board.
Oh…and three people died…
Yeah, I hate to just tack this on at the end but two people died of alcohol poisoning and it’s possible the third death was actually a murder. I can’t really find a legit source to back that up so take it as you will.
An investigation in the months and years following laid blame for the riot on Rear-Admiral Murray for failing to control his sailors and for allowing them to leave their ships. He was relieved of command and shortly thereafter retired from the navy.
The guy throws one hell of a party though.
My main resource for this piece was Open Gangway: An Account of the Halifax Riot, 1945 by Stanley R. Redman
Based in the basement 