Nine O'Clock Gun (1969)

The 1969 recovery of the **Nine O'Clock Gun** is perhaps one of the best known Stunts of The UBC Engineers. After the historic landmark went suspiciously missing, the EUS worked tirelessly until it was recovered.

The majority of this page is from an archived recount from the original hEUStory wiki.

## Background

The **9 O'Clock Gun** is a cannon located in Vancouver, that is ordinarily fired daily at 21:00 (9 p.m.) PT.

It was brought to Stanley Park in 198 to warn fisherman of the 18:00 Sunday close of fishing. This was later changed to fire at 21:00 to serve as a time signal for the general population and allow the chronometers of port to be accurately set.

## Story

### Planning

Upon realizing that the UBC Engineers had not done anything since the Great Statue Stunt of '63, a valiant group known as the Vancouver Pig Farmers Association (a group dedicated to timely dinners, alcoholic desserts, and corn with every meal), decided Stanley Park's tarnished 9 O'Clock Gun should be cleaned and shined as a public service. Mike "Profane" Fane later approached the then-2nd Vice President of the EUS, Vic "1.459" Hardy with the idea.

Hardy also served as the chairman of the infamous Stunts Committee and organized a core group to accomplish their mission including the likes of Rick "No Glands" Knowlan, John Basford (Council Idiot), Al "Mother" Nichols, Jeanne Henry (Lady Godiva 1969), Joe Rokosh, Al Barnes, Frank "Hap" Hassard, Bill Allen, Larry Russell, and Bill Taylor.

The engineers' infamous mimeographed weekly, the nEUSlettre, carried another kind of publicity: for weeks a small note had been run asking anyone with a walkie-talkie, citizens' band or shortwave radio to contact the 2nd Vice or the Stunts Committee. By the middle of January, the note had grown in size and urgency. It was obvious to anyone watching – fortunately very few were – that something big was in the wind.

Coincidentally, a the 9 O'Clock Gun became the topic of a local radio show's week-long, on-air discussion; with disgruntled West End residents calling in to complain about the noise, and cannon lovers from all over piping up in defense of the relic. Truly proving that the best publicity is free.

### Alleged Removal

On Saturday, February 8, 1969 during Engineering-Week, a careful observe could have spied a group of somewhat conspicuous individuals gathering at the Lumberman's Arch parking lot. It is reported the group travelled towards the cannon's concrete enclosure, deftly removing the lock.

It was then that our tiny band of intrepid midnight movers discovered that the object of their efforts was a tad heavier than they had previously calculated (it seems that the bore was smaller and shorter than they thought). After a number of unprintable remarks, with particular reference to a certain unnamed individual's math grades, a radio call was hastily dispatched to those waiting in the parking lot. Soon more than a score of pairs of arms were bearing the very heavy (1800 pounds, it turned out) solid brass cannon up to the road.

Within minutes, a heavily-laden pickup truck -bearing a remarkable resemblance to the one owned by EUS President Fraser Hodge- slowly disappeared into the darkness. The swirling beginnings of a snowfall ensured that any telltale footprints would soon be conveniently obliterated.

### Time in Captivity

The empty bunker was discovered Sunday morning, and the first newspapers of the week carried front page speculation that the engineers were involved with the gun-napping (it seems that Mike Fane, in his youthful exuberance had phoned the Vancouver Province newspaper to claim responsibility for the incident).

Meanwhile, the centre of the controversy had spent the night in the shop of Pacific Power Systems. As fate would have it, the shop's owner, a certain Mr. Hodge, had decided to go into work that Sunday morning. On his way in, he heard the first news reports of the cannon's theft on his car radio. The news annoyed him, for he was a man who respected tradition, and thought that these "vandals" had gone too far in removing a piece of Vancouver's heritage. Imagine his surprise when he walked into his shop, and there, in the middle of the floor, lay the missing 19th century artillery piece.

Mr. Hodge, however, paused only a moment before phoning home and rousing his still sleeping son, Fraser, out of bed. Fraser Hodge, the current EUS President, was told, in no uncertain terms, that his father did not wish to remain in possession of the hot piece of public property for one more minute. So Fraser, joined by Dex Olund, reluctantly drove down to the shop and retrieved the 9 O’Clock Gun.

There they were, the President and the Professional Relations Officer of the EUS, both in their red jackets, driving through the streets of Vancouver with a ton of illicit brass concealed in the back of a pickup. They drove grimly, searching in vain for a place to unload what was now major news. Soon, however, the fact that it was well past lunch time caught up with them, and Fraser pulled into the White Spot drive-in for a bite to eat and a breather.

But no sooner had their lunch arrived, than a "black and white", bearing a pair of Vancouver's finest, slipped into the adjacent parking space. Through the open window, Fraser and Dex could hear the incoming police calls -- many of which concerned the previous night's activities in Stanley Park. They slouched deeper into their seats, staring straight ahead, trying to look as innocent as two engineers in a pickup with a ton of illicit brass in the back can look.

One of the officers in the car looked up, saw the red jackets, and grinned. He elbowed his partner, leaned out the window, and, in a tone of mock authority, inquired as to the whereabouts of the missing cannon. Fraser Hodge turned, put on a wider grin than the two that were facing him, and replied that the gun was in the back of his truck. The cops roared with laughter, and were still chuckling to themselves when they finished up their coffee and drove away. Needless to say, Fraser and Dex were in a similar condition when they resumed their search for a resting place for their cargo.

Later that evening Dr. D.L. Anderson, a professor at UBC’s department of Civil Engineering, received a knock on his door. He was told not to look in his basement for the next few days. He knew his visitors meant business when he found out they had a gun.

The Vancouver city police were not the only law enforcement body interested in the gun-napping. The feds, too, had picked up the case. And so, bright and early Monday morning, a pair of RCMP constables, with nothing more than ill-founded rumours to go by, showed up at the EUS office in search of clues. They were met by wide-eyed innocence (“who, us?”). Surprisingly, they seemed satisfied with this and left, somehow overlooking a chalkboard in the corner covered with a rough map of Stanley Park with a large "X" near Brockton Point labeled "GUN HERE".

Monday afternoon a registered letter arrived at the office of the Mayor of Vancouver. It had been mailed Friday (these guys were confident!), and was made up of newspaper cuttings. It read:

*"Dear Sir,*
*As you are probably aware the 9:00 gun has been kidnapped. If the City of Vancouver wants it back a photo of our Mayor Tom Campbell, or a reasonable substitute should appear in the Vancouver Sun on Tuesday donating a hundred dollars to the Children’s Hospital."*
Unfortunately the mayor, who had spent the previous week in the hospital, had suffered a worsening of his condition on the Friday night, and was still quite ill. The acting mayor Hugh Bird, smugly unaware of his own nephew’s involvement, refused to pay.

That afternoon the annual Lady Godiva Ride marked the opening of Engineering Week. Several pieces of heavy-duty machinery were included in the parade that year; and one of those machines carried a long white box inscribed with the words; "Time of the tone will be 9 p.m.".

### Search and Recovery

The next day Fraser Hodge called a press conference. The EUS President announced that "after some detective work" the engineers were close to recovering the missing cannon. He even produced a photo that had been "found" of the gun resting on what appeared to be a garage floor.

On Wednesday the nEUSlettre ran a banner headline stating "PROFANE IS GUNSHY", but no story. The city papers, however, ran the recent photo of the gun, and reported that the engineers were combing the garages of the city to find a floor to match the one in the photo. By this time the residents of Vancouver had realized the plight of their beloved time marker. Over $1200 had poured into the mayor's office for the Children's Hospital.

Thursday morning the engineers announced that they had located the elusive cannon, and that at noon it would be returned to its rightful place. Hundreds of people brought their lunches that day to Stanley Park for the occasion. As the hour approached, a sea of red swelled the parkway. At the head of the procession was a scarlet double-decker bus, followed by Fraser Hodge's truck and a long stream of red-jacketed engineers. Suddenly a small group, bearing a long black object, broke from the scarlet ranks. They rushed down to the water's edge, followed by a mass of reporters and bystanders. There was a collective gasp from the crowd as they watched what they thought was the 9 O'Clock Gun being thrown into the lapping waves. Presently, however, the wooden replica bobbed up to the surface, and the red horde guffawed loudly.

The parade soon wound its way around past the totem poles and to its final destination. The Real McCoy was brought out from the back of Hodge's truck, all freshly polished, and placed carefully in its cradle. A man with a Cockney accent, whom many had mistaken for the bus tour guide, was introduced as "Walter of Scotland Yard". He announced that "Her Majesty is very pleased" with the valiant efforts of the UBC Engineers in recovering such a valuable piece of Vancouver's history.

## 2008 Redecorating

"The engineers have had their week and hopefully they'll think of something better to do next year and in the future,"

The cannon was repainted red by a group of renegade engineering students during engineering week.