“The day for which we have all been waiting has come at last, and the largest invasion force in history has crossed the English Channel. At the time of writing, the news is still too scant of detail to provide material for profitable comment; and indeed it is fitting that the ready tongues of commentators should be still on this momentous occasion. For what is there to say? Nothing except that the land invasion of Europe has begun and that, God willing, it will free all of Europe in time.” — editorial by Robertson Davies, Peterborough Examiner, June 6, 1944
At 3:32 a.m. on June 6, 1944, media outlets around the world received a communiqué from the office of Supreme Allied Commander Dwight D. Eisenhower: the long-rumoured Allied invasion of northern France was on. Across Ontario, the Canadian Press spread news of the bulletin, and overnight newspaper staff swung into action, informing local officials of the news and rushing out the day’s first editions. Within hours, Ontarians were aware that D-Day — an event that many officials and media outlets declared was the greatest invasion in history — was here.
The first inkling of what was about to unfold reached a CBC listening post in downtown Ottawa around 1 a.m. Sally Solomon was monitoring broadcasts from Europe when a German shortwave message indicated that an invasion might be underway. “I knew something was on,” she told the Ottawa Citizen. “I could hardly believe my ears.”
Map of the invasion published on the front page of the June 6, 1944, edition of the Kingston Whig-Standard.
Overnight-shift cabbies in Windsor knew something was up when there was a sharp spike in the number of Windsor Star employees ordering rides to the office. In Peterborough, after staff woke him up, Examiner editor-in-chief Robertson Davies called a cab to deliver that day’s editorial, which he had already prepared.
Windsor Star columnist R.M. Harrison wrote about a 50-year-old man he spotted that morning along the Detroit River. “He stood bareheaded on the riverbank at 4 o’clock Tuesday morning, a rosary in his fingers. His lips moved in prayer as he gazed into the sky that was his cathedral dome, the moon his sanctuary lamp, the lights on [the] Ambassador Bridge his candles.” Harrison speculated that the man represented those who wanted to express their prayers before places of worship opened for the day.
Left: Front page of North Bay Nugget on June 6, 1944. Right: Ad from the Kingston Whig-Standard on June 6, 1944.
In Brantford, after the Expositor informed him of the news, Mayor J.P. Ryan ordered the fire department to send three trucks into the downtown core to blare their sirens at 4:30 a.m. More trucks were dispatched at 6 a.m. to make noise for 15 minutes. By 8 a.m., city churches had opened for those who wanted to pray for their loved ones serving in the war and for the troops in general.
Nearby, in Paris, two extra phone operators were called in at 4:15 a.m. to help the overnight operator handle the expected avalanche of calls. At 6 a.m., church bells rang, and factory whistles blew to spread the news.
In smaller communities, life effectively ground to a halt. “The streets seemed strangely deserted in those early hours because so many were staying indoors to hear all they could,” the Fergus News-Record reported. “There wasn’t much news, but a super abundance of comment.”
Photos taken around Windsor on D-Day, from the Windsor Star, June 6, 1944.
Leaders quickly scheduled services for that day; in front of city halls across the province, local politicians and clerics delivered addresses. In Hamilton, Mayor Samuel Lawrence advised residents to “put victory above everything else and give of your effort to the same full measure and with the same determination our men in the armed forces are giving of theirs, today and everyday until victory is won.” Evening prayer services filled places of worship everywhere, bringing together, according to the Acton Free Press, “a group of citizens from all walks of life who seemed to be vitally aware of the seriousness of invasion day.”
European maps were in high demand in schools, libraries, and armouries, as the public wanted a sense of where the invasion was occurring and how far it might penetrate into France. At Kitchener-Waterloo Collegiate, the Kitchener Daily Record reported, “for some time a combination of invasion and geography was the topic of study in place of the regular subjects.” The paper also noted that, throughout the Twin Cities, “inspectors, principals, and other school officials admitted frankly that minds of not only students, but teachers ‘are in France today — not on their studies and teaching.’”
Cover of July 15, 1944 edition of Maclean's featuring General Harry Crerar.
Many industrial and war-material plants across Ontario installed radios and loudspeakers at central points to give workers the latest updates. Some employers felt this encouraged people to work even harder, as they wanted to help support the troops. Retailers hooked up radios to keep their customers informed. Some employees were given time off to attend daytime services — in Sudbury, offices and factories closed for an hour at 10:30 a.m.
Like other Allied leaders, Prime Minister William Lyon Mackenzie King broadcast a radio address to the nation that day. “No one can say how long this phase of the war may last, but we have every reason for confidence in the final outcome,” King observed. He quoted General Harry Crerar, who, prior to the landing, had said to the Canadian assault force that he hoped the hearts of all Canadians would “be filled with silent prayer for the success of own and Allied forces, and for the early liberation of the people of Europe.”
Recruiting officers prepared for an increase in enlistment, mostly from those who were nearing fighting age, were on work deferments at war plants, had been rejected during previous enlistment attempts, or had been discharged and wanted to return to active service. Recruiters interviewed in Windsor noted that enlistment had increased for several weeks following the Dieppe raid in 1942. The federal government sent newspapers media packages full of ads encouraging volunteers to sign up or continue to help on the home front. (Later in the year, the Conscription Crisis of 1944 would arise over concerns surrounding infantry shortages.)
Left: Ad encouraging public to work on farms for the war effort, from the Brantford Expositor, June 9, 1944. Right: Full-page ad for C.H. Smith department store depicting Dwight D. Eisenhower, from the Windsor Star, June 6, 1944.
While most events involved religious services, there was room for frivolity. At Kew Beach Park in Toronto, reserve members of the Queen’s Own Rifles staged a mock invasion on June 7 as a prelude to a fireworks display. The troops, according to the Globe and Mail, “took up their positions around the park armed with everything from Bren guns to smoke bombs.” The event apparently delighted the 30,000 children who attended.
Those wishing to raise a glass in celebration faced certain restrictions. At the beginning of the month, the federal government had set a new allocation for the hard-liquor supply in Ontario for the rest of the year. As the number of wartime ration permits allowing people to purchase hard liquor had increased, Ottawa cut the monthly allowance for holders in half, from 26 ounces (one full bottle or two half bottles) to 13 ounces, to ensure everyone would have the opportunity to enjoy a drink later in the year. Law enforcement was on the prowl for people violating liquor regulations — in Brantford, a man who was arrested on D-Day received a $25 fine plus costs for possessing an extra beer ration book (he opted to serve 25 days in jail instead).
Editorial cartoon from the Kitchener Daily Record, June 6, 1944.
In an editorial published three days after the invasion, the Windsor Star expressed concerns that a sense of complacency was settling in because people assumed the war in Europe was about to end. “There is too much confident talk, too much smug assumption that this is the last act in the tragic drama, and that our fighting men have only to play a well-rehearsed role while we sit back and watch the play continue to its appointed final curtain,” it wrote. “If there was ever a time for everyone in Canada to buckle down to work and service, it is now. We indulge simply in fatal self-delusion if we presume that we have come to the end. We are really only at the beginning.”
Of the more than 10,000 Allied casualties on D-Day, 1,096 were Canadian — 381 of whom were killed in action. The war in Europe would come to an end 11 months later with Germany’s surrender on May 8, 1945.
Sources: Days of Victory by Ted Barris (Toronto: Thomas Allen Publishers, 2005); the June 8, 1944, edition of the Acton Free Press; the June 6, 1944, and June 7, 1944, editions of the BrantfordExpositor; the June 8, 1944, edition of the Canadian Statesman; the June 8, 1944, edition of the Fergus News-Record; the June 8, 1944, edition of the Globe and Mail; the June 6, 1944, edition of the Hamilton Spectator; the June 6, 1944, edition of the Kitchener Daily Record; the June 6, 1944, and June 7, 1944, editions of the Ottawa Citizen; the June 6, 1944, edition of the Toronto Daily Star; and the June 6, 1944, June 7, 1944, and June 9, 1944, editions of the Windsor Star.
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