The RCAF entered the missile age in 1962, when it acquired two half-squadrons of Boeing’s Michigan Air Research Centre (Bomarc) missiles. The missiles guarded Canadian and American industrial centres - and American ICBM sites - from attacks by the nuclear-equipped Soviet long-range air force. 446 Surface-to-Air Missile (SAM) Squadron, based near North Bay, Ontario, began its training first, followed by 447 SAM Squadron, based at RCAF Station La Macaza, Quebec. 447 became the world’s only self-sufficient Bomarc squadron, as all the others were adjuncts of various USAF or RCAF bases.
Like 446 Squadron, 447 began its training at Chanute Air Force Base, Illinois, then one of the USAF’s primary technical training facilities. RCAF technicians, freshly posted from fighter squadrons, began their training in this strange new world with some trepidation, until they found that the Bomarc was just another aircraft. Better still, there were no pilots or navigators to make obscure L-14 entries, such as "engine missing", which required difficult technical responses such as "engine found on nose of aircraft." Although some Bomarc technology was a considerable jump from that in the Sabre and the Clunk, the technicians easily mastered it, and Canada’s two Bomarc squadrons set enviable serviceability records during their ten years of air defence service.
447's first CO was W/C Art Laflamme, a decorated WWII bomber pilot. He and the five operations officers also trained at Chanute. Their training epitomized the "nice to know" teaching era. When he and his Ops Officers finished the course, they could have: (a) built a Bomarc; (b) built a Semi-Automatic Ground Environment (SAGE) direction centre; and (c) controlled an air battle encompassing the entire north American continent. These were all noble feats, but none of these officers would ever be called upon to do any of those things. However, the technicians who were called upon to build Bomarcs demonstrated that they learned their craft well. There was a later course at Hurlburt Field, part of the Eglin AFB complex on the Florida panhandle. There, the technicians showed their skills by assembling a Bomarc, which was then launched by the SAGE direction centre at Gunter AFB, Alabama. Much to the USAF’s dismay, 447's technicians had built a masterpiece which nailed a brand new QB-47 right between the eyes.
In September 1962, W/C Laflamme led his band of warriors to their new home at RCAF Station La Macaza, where a mix of RCAF technicians, Boeing tech reps and other contractors had built a snug little station. The missiles were housed in 28 shelters that looked like largish garages. The people were housed in 114 brand-new double-trailer PMQs. For families with one or two children, the cozy little homes were just fine. For people such as W/C Laflamme, who had large families, the houses bordered on cruel and unusual punishment. As always, there were more families than there were PMQs. Off-base accommodation was sparse, distant, and not always of a high standard. A trailer park just off the base housed about 20 families.
Although Boeing, the other contractors and the initial cadre under S/L Elmer McGinnis had accomplished much, much more was needed to get all 28 Bomarcs up and serviceable. To their everlasting credit, the technicians, directed by S/L McGinnis, the other technical officers and the many first-rate senior NCOs, such as FS’s. Floyd Smith, Sonny Aumais, Len Goertzen, Don Hynes and others, did it all in what seemed record time.
As noted, 447 SAM Squadron was a self-contained unit called RCAF Station La Macaza with a station headquarters, and other impedimenta of a full-fledged station. F/L Dick Taylor was the CAdO, while F/L Cam Fraser served as PAdO. F/L Jean Lapointe kept the finances straight, and F/O Lorna Kelly tended to those fell ill. Sgt. Lloyd Scharfe kept the Orderly Room running efficiently. As 447 was going to have what the RCAF diffidently referred to as a "nuclear capability", security loomed large. The many people needed to keep any capabilities securely penned in were competently led by F/O John Grogan. Supplying the base was the province of the multi-talented F/L Mike Powell, while F/L Bruno Guay was the "sticks-and-bricks" wizard who solved the many construction problems inherent in a new station. These officers were carefully chosen for their competence in their chosen fields. And, they were also chosen for their ability to turn a collection of empty buildings into a vibrant, dynamic air defence station.
They were not alone. The officers chosen to help S/L McGinnis also had the professional and personal attributes needed to breathe life into a new station. F/L Cal Calvert was a no-nonsense leader who earned great respect from his expert technicians. F/L Sugi Sugimoto thoroughly understood the Bomarc’s systems, and the "work hard, play hard" ethic handed down to the RCAF by the RAF. F/Os Jim Washington, Pete Berry and Al Massey contributed much to getting the Bomarcs on line, and to setting up the amenities to improve life at an outlying station.
447 Squadron’s Bomarcs were controlled by the SAGE direction centre at North Bay, Ontario. An Operations Centre, headed by F/L Terry Lyons tied the squadron to the SAGE centre. The Ops Centre was manned continuously by one of four operations officers: F/Os Merv Eagleson, Herb Karras, Gerry Maguire and Bob Merrick. Each of them was somewhat over-qualified for the job (see above), but like the other officers, each - particularly Herb Karras - helped establish amenities to improve life for those at La Macaza.
Station life was richly enhanced by Boeing tech reps. Dick Shafer, Keith Svendby, Tom "the world is going to hell in a handcart...pumping furiously" Russell, Ray Skoronski and Dick Kachel were among many who added immeasurably to operational effectiveness and quality of station life.
In May 1963, W/C Joe Roussell, a decorated WWII Spitfire pilot and post-war Sabre pilot, succeeded W/C Laflamme as CO. It was a time when banning the bomb was a regular feature of Canadian life. As 447 Squadron was reputed to have "bombs", it was the target of activists who enjoyed camping on roads leading to ADC bases. W/C Roussell defused these situations without harming those who wanted Canada to lead the world in unilateral disarmament.
Shortly after Roussell arrived, so too did the "capability." This was, of course, very hush-hush, and no one was supposed to know what was going on. One morning, a USAF "Ole Shaky" C-124 landed smoothly on the runway adjacent to the station. An extensive convoy was there to greet it. Security was tight, and access to the station was temporarily denied to the butcher, the baker, the candle-stick maker and the many other itinerant merchants who brought base residents the necessities of life. So there they sat, on the road leading to the base, watching an aircraft that was considerably larger than most of the buildings for 50 miles around, while it disgorged "stuff" into a closely guarded convoy. Fortunately, most of them just put it down as one of those weird things that the military unaccountably does from time to time, and secrecy was maintained.
The "stuff" off the airplane became the province of a small detachment from the USAF’s 425th Munitions Maintenance squadron, commanded by Major Dan Chisa. He was admirably supported by Captains Al Brock, Darrel Duncan, several NCOs and numerous airmen. The vibrant American presence greatly enriched station life.
Security played an important role in squadron operations. Several security huts rimmed the perimeter of the missile compound. Intrusion alarms inhabited each missile shelter. These alarms were quite sensitive, and susceptible to false alarms. Such alarms provided much training for the sabotage alert teams which always lurked nearby. Each night, they responded to many alerts caused by wind gusts and other phenomena. FS Hank Pankratz oversaw such security operations, and no one ever succeeded in stealing a Bomarc.
Radical elements of Quebec’s separatist movement caused occasional anxious moments. Some worried that the station’s phone links to the outside world could be broken by dedicated zealots. The solution was to bring in a radio, apparently built by Marconi himself, to maintain a comm link with ADCHQ, then at RCAF Station St. Hubert. Each day, the duty Ops Officer fired up this antique, barked messages into a WWI mike, then listened to what sounded like a whole kitchen full of bacon frying over high heat, interspersed with what seemed to be obscene messages in an obscure Indo-Croation dialect. After several minutes of this esoteric sport, he nodded sagely, entered "Successful HF contact with ADCHQ" in the log, and went on to other things.
On November 29, 1963, an Air Canada DC-8 crashed at Ste. Therese, Que., killing all 118 on board. Shortly after, the Ops phone rang. It was the Montreal Star. Had the station accidentally launched any of its Bomarcs? The Ops Officer assured the caller 28 soft white lights still glowed on his panel, indicating that all 28 Bomarcs were still on-site. "Is it possible," the reporter asked, "that one of the missiles could launch without anyone noticing?" The reporter was assured that many alert military policemen guarded the Bomarcs, and that a launch, accidental or otherwise would be noticed by most of the local population out to about the ten mile range.
As noted, the Bomarcs were launched and controlled by North Bay SAGE. How did anyone know the system would work? The technicians maintained the missiles in accordance with master schedules in much the same way they would maintain any other aircraft. True, no one was flying the Bomarcs, but like other aircraft, they could develop snags. Between the scheduled maintenance and the unscheduled snags, maintenance crews were always busy.
Two major tests periodically provided assurance that the missiles would respond to SAGE commands. The first was the Partial Squadron Demonstration, or PSD. In this test, the SAGE controller, the squadron Ops Officer and maintenance control coordinated activities that resulted in the SAGE controller sending a launch message to the site. If all was in order, the Bomarc would leap smartly to attention, showing that it was ready for flight. The checklists included positive measures to disconnect the fuse to the solid-boost rocket that flung the Bomarc aloft.
The other - and more complicated - test required the use of a Mobile Inspection Unit (MIU). Again, the controller, the Ops Officer and the maintainers coordinated activities that resulted in a launch message being sent to the Bomarc. However, for this test, the launch message was routed through the MIU, and technicians measured the missile’s response to the various commands imbedded in the message.
For a time, the messages moved over ordinary phone lines. One weekend a local sport was returning from a party when his vehicle slammed into a telephone pole that jumped into the middle of the road. After that incident, greater attention was paid to multi-path message routing.
The station took part in the many regional and NORAD exercises that ensured all elements of the air defence system functioned efficiently. Most of this participation was done through the Ops Centre, and generally involved nothing more than receiving telephone messages from North Bay SAGE. During exercises, the Bomarcs were simulated within the bowels of the SAGE computer at North Bay. They were launched as needed by an Intercept Director (IND).
Had war broken out, 447's Ops Centre had to take a few initial actions. After that, the IND’s switch actions would cause the real thing to leap out of La Macaza propelled by a solid rocket booster which lifted the missile to either 40,000 feet, or 71,000 feet, depending on what the IND requested. During lift-off, two ram-jets flashed up and accelerated the Bomarc to M 1.3 or 2.1, again depending on the IND’s assessment of the threat. From there, the IND used data-link to control the Bomarc in much the same way he controlled the CF-101s from, say Bagotville, except that the Bomarc was less likely to respond with smart-aleck remarks. The Bomarc had a range of 400 nm, a radar to acquire a target, and a proximity fuse to detonate the "capability."
A small remote community such as RCAF Stn La Macaza automatically fosters a closeness of spirit and association not possible at larger units. The station was gifted with more than its share of "movers and shakers" who got things done for the common good.
The station had a Recreation Centre, but there were things you couldn’t do in it. You couldn’t play hockey, curl, or play golf. Before long, groups of dedicated officers, NCOs, airmen and tech reps remedied these deficiencies. The station’s first curling rink was outdoors, which led to some extremely dedicated sweeping in the interests of staying warm. The station also had an annual Carnival, which brought all members together for a joyous and happy few days of fun and frolic.
Inevitably, postings and other personnel turbulence brought new faces in as the originals departed. When Elmer McGinnis left, he was replaced as Chief of Maintenance by Sugi Sugimoto. Sugimoto’s original position was then filled by F/L Ivor Small. When Sugimoto was posted out, he was replaced by the popular S/L "Red" Scanlan. Slowly but surely, the original team broke up. But as the charter members left, they could look back with pride on their achievement in putting a new weapon system - and a new station - into a proud place in RCAF history. They also looked on with satisfaction as the new members of that team continued the high standards of operational excellence and fulfilling family lives that were there from the outset.