Continuing my series on espionage, specifically as it relates to Toronto, we come to Station M.

Station “M”, which stood for “Magic”, was ostensibly located in the basement of Casa Loma which now hosts a related historical exhibit and similarly themed escape room game.

While some sources claim that Station M was actually located in Casa Loma’s stables and carriage house, its exact location remains hush-hush. This secrecy, along with the existence of a nearly quarter-kilometer (800 ft.) subterranean tunnel connecting the main building to these outer structures, only adds to the ambiguity.

I’ve been to the castle a number of times, including for a fancy wedding reception, but until recently had no idea that this “subterranean” operation existed. Next time I’m there I’ll be sure to do a bit more exploring!

Station M operated hand-in-hand with Camp X during the second world war to produce covert gadgets, forged documents, counterfeit currency, convincing local dress, and anything else that might assist Allied spies on their overseas missions. Think “Q Branch” from James Bond.

In fact, it’s been suggested that Station M is where Ian Fleming got his inspiration for the fictional support division mentioned in his works.

Fleming is reported to have spent time in Toronto, traveling daily to the Camp in Oshawa from his Avenue Road accommodations. While the amount to which Fleming was inspired by his experiences here is speculative, the fact that he resided across the street from St. James-Bond Church during this period seems to suggest an alternative, if only subconscious, explanation to Fleming’s own claim about appropriating the name from a bird expert. Maybe this official explanation is simply a misdirection based on a happy coincidence. After all, this is the world of espionage we’re talking about.

… in which the Section’s long, languid, and mostly monotonous journey (except when it’s not), back to their origin is detailed.

Poster-ffiti at the corner of Bathurst and Dundas.

… in which Section B manage to secure a ride back to where all their troubles began, and (hopefully) one step closer to some answers about their predicament.

A while back I wrote (with a leaning toward espionage) about a couple of books I’d been reading that highlighted the porous and permissive nature of Canada. I’d hoped to make this a preamble to other stories I was aware of but, at the time, didn’t feel that I’d sufficiently plumbed their depths for proper discussion. In other words, I knew of them but not enough about them.

Having now completed “The Soviet Spies” by Richard Hirsch I can say that I’ve done at least a little work to correct this oversight.

Long story short, it’s the 1940s and a GRU cipher clerk named Igor Gouzenko working in the Soviet Embassy in Ottawa goes rogue, making off with a bunch of files exposing the breadth and width of Soviet infiltration within North American politics, military, academia, research, industry, etc. His family is endangered, a bunch of roadblocks and nail-biting encounters follow, and eventually scandalous exposés and international drama ensue — standard spy pulp fiction fodder, except it happens to be true.

While I understand that there may be some disputes surrounding the accuracy of the following statement, the Gouzenko Affair is considered by many historians to be the unofficial start of the Cold War. This is where people like McCarthy got their (not entirely incorrect) ideas about a Red invasion and where movies like Russell Rouse’s wordless classic “The Thief” got their (sometimes literal) inspiration.

Naturally much of the Gouzenko backstory happened in Toronto and enough thorough detail is included in “The Soviet Spies” that I’m considering taking a tour of some of the conspirators’ homes and places of work. This attention to detail can get a bit tedious but the book manages to weave together detailed facts and timelines in a way that reads like a modern day (albeit wordy), spy thriller. Combining this with the history of places like Camp X adds even more intrigue to Canada’s post-war narrative.

This may all seem like a bit of nostalgia but with the current Canada-India diplomatic row, Canada-Russia diplomatic row, Canada-China diplomatic row, and undoubtedly a few others, the same sensational stories that were making headlines nearly seventy years ago are no less apropos today. In fact, the cloak-and-dagger nature of international diplomacy along with a resurgence of human intelligence gathering (HUMINT) and other old-school techniques seem to be more relevant in the modern era than ever.

In any event, if you get a whiff of similar themes in /sectionb then at least you’ll know where I ripped ’em off from.

I must admit, I was skeptical. The invitation to explore The Bentway neighbourhood through “the building of the route across the city as well as the big set off or ‘fall’ of the dominoes!” seemed contrived. However, the limited-time nature of the conceptually simple event proved to be rewarding. Maybe even genius.

Pretty sure everyone’s familiar with the cascading row of dominoes setup so you get the idea of what this event was about. Simple on the surface.

Within, though, there was depth to the stunt.

The path of Dominoes led through the Waterfront Neighbourhood Centre. Never been here before but I aim to return.

It’s a little oasis on the edge of an international airport and a bustling tourist sector.

It’s neat to see what actually exists right now — not just what can theoretically exist — at the heart of a modern urban metropolis.

I don’t know to what extent this event was advertised but it seemed to bring out a good number of people. I daresay, there was anticipation in the air.

When that last block went over the edge there was a hearty cheer.

Props, Toronto. Props.

_{P.S. In case you were wondering the bricks were made of aircrete (or something similar), a lightweight type of concrete that’s less dense than regular concrete. I picked up one of the blocks and although it was lighter than I expected, I suspect that if I’d dropped it on my foot from a carrying height I’d still probably break a toe or two.}

… in which it becomes obvious that sometimes things go sideways for Section B but sometimes they go downright backwards.

Dmitri’s timeline set to music.

… in which Section B finally make landfall and are immediately thrust into a sticky situation.

On Dunn near Springhurst