Risking it for Radio
When we hear of internet, TV or radio channels being censored, it can be easy to think only of governments in distant lands like Russia, China or North Korea. However, there have been times in history that the Canadian government has controlled what sounds can be heard—or not heard—within our own borders.
As the Second World War unfolded, thousands of Japanese Canadians (also known by the term Nikkei) faced discrimination at the hands of the Canadian government, on the false suspicion of military espionage. People of Japanese descent—or as the Canadian government described them, “people of the Japanese race”—were pulled from their homes in British Columbia and forcibly relocated across Canada.
The movements of Nikkei were strictly controlled and they were restricted from owning possessions such as cameras or radios. These restrictions did not stop Iwao Masuda from obtaining a radio for his family home after being relocated from BC to Alberta in 1942. Now part of the Galt Museum collection, this radio was a vital lifeline to critical information about the war during those difficult times. How the family obtained this radio after relocation is unclear, but it was a vital connection to information as most Japanese Canadian news outlets were closed by the government.
Japanese Canadians weren’t the only ones who faced radio restrictions during the Second World War. German prisoners of war housed at Lethbridge Camp No. 133 faced a similar situation. Built on the north side of Lethbridge in the summer of 1942, Camp No. 133 held 13,341 prisoners before year’s end, making it the second largest camp in North America.
The camp was dismantled in 1946 after the war ended and the furnishings and equipment were sold off. Local radio repairman Ted Emery was asked to fix a public address sound system that had been salvaged from the camp and was surprised to discover a shortwave converter hidden within it—covertly built by the prisoners.
This unique piece of local history is also now part of the Galt Museum collection. Housed in an old tin can, all of the radio’s internal parts would have been stolen or scrounged within the camp. While the shortwave theoretically could have picked up German radio transmissions, these signals would have been jammed by the Allies. More likely, prisoners used this rudimentary radio to simply listen in on local news reports of the war unfolding.
Sometimes the rewards of being connected to your own culture and language might be worth taking certain risks. Discover more stories like these (and see the aforementioned artifacts up close and personal) in our new exhibition, The Politics of Sound, on now until May 7, 2023.