Dan Snow's History Hit - Remembrance Day: Searching for My Father the WWII Pilot

Episode Date: November 13, 2023

John Watts never knew his father. He was conceived days before his father, Wing Commander Joseph Watts, was killed on a bombing mission over occupied Europe. He left behind a daughter, and also an unborn son. But, recently John discovered that at the RAF Museum at Cosford, they have one of the very few surviving Hampdens which is being restored. The plane is from the very squadron his father flew in. Dan accompanied John to the museum for the emotional visit which he hoped would bring closure after 80 years of pain.Discover the past with exclusive history documentaries and ad-free podcasts presented by world-renowned historians from History Hit. Watch them on your smart TV or on the go with your mobile device. Get 50% off your first 3 months with code DANSNOW - sign up now for your 14-day free trial http://access.historyhit.com/checkout?code=dansnow&plan=monthly.We'd love to hear from you! You can email the podcast at [e-mail] can take part in our listener survey here.

Hi everybody, welcome to Dan Snow's History Hit. John Watts never knew his father. He was conceived days before his dad, Wing Commander Joseph Watts, was killed on a bombing mission over occupied Europe. It was the summer of 1940, and whilst people remember Fighter Command's epic struggle against German Luftwaffe during the Battle of Britain, few of us pay as much attention to the brutal struggle that bomber command was engaged in, striking German targets on the continent, doing what it could to disrupt invasion plans. John Watts grew up in very different circumstances to those he would have enjoyed if his father had been alive,

as any son would be. He's been fascinated by his father his entire life. Recently, he had a great surprise, a shock. He never knew that a bomber from his father's squadron had been recovered and is being restored by the RF Museum in Cosford. It's a bomber that his father could actually have flown. In this episode, which I first recorded in 2020 during lockdown, I accompanied John Watts to Cosford for a really emotional visit, as you'll hear, which he hoped would bring him some closure after 80 years

of pain and questioning. This was one of my favourite ever episodes of Dantanow's History Hit, and we thought we'd repeat it, given it's Remembrance Week here in the UK. So many of us, like John, are remembering the fallen. Enjoy. T-minus 10.

Atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima. God save the king. No black-white unity till there is first and black unity. Never to go to war with one another again. John and I met in the Second World War hangar at the RAF Museum in Cosford. Around us were planes that had seen service during World War II. Asked him where his father started out in the war. Well, day one of the war, I wouldn't quite know exactly, but I think he went fairly soon to Waddington.

And my mother and father lived in Lincoln, on the outskirts of Lincoln. And first of all, he was at Waddington, but I think at the beginning of the war, he went up to Wick in Scotland. And indeed, some of his reports from there, I think he talked to Guy Gibson about it, what it was like up there. And then they flew down for Christmas in 1940. And the weather was atrocious. and my mother and all the other wives thought that the squadrons wouldn't come but of course they buzzed the gardens they flew very low indeed and you know what the sound of a bomber is like even a hamden bomb are huge so rejoicings for christmas so christmas uh they spent christmas Year's 1940 as it were.

How old was he? He was very old. He was at that point 32. Oh wow. A veteran. Grizzled veteran. But of course he was regular and he joined the RAF in 1932, I think. Learned to fly out in Abuswa in Egypt, and then he was in the Northwest Frontier campaign, which figures on the medals, of course. That's the one, Northwest Frontier, in the campaign against the fakir of Ipi. John gave the impression that his father was passionate about his job. He loved it. He loved it.

He was in his element. He was a speed merchant, really. He was the opposite of his son sitting here, very technical and very good at maths and an all-round athlete, and he just loved speed. My mother said that he drove the MG as fast as the aeroplane, and they used to quarrel mightily. They had a very Petruchio-Catherine kind of relationship, but they adored each other.

And one time he put her out of the car. She wouldn't go because he was driving too fast. Another time, I think, she got out anyway. So, yes, flying, he was in his element element it became obvious quite early in the war in fact from the earliest days of the war that being in bomber command was very very dangerous is that something that he and your mother would have been aware of talked about over that lovely christmas of 1939 to 40 absolutely they never bought it um at same time, as I'm sure you've heard many times, they made light of it. I mean, the men.

My father was always joking, but they talked about the nitty gritty. He said that he wouldn't be able to carry on if he didn't know that she was going to get a pension. He knew that he was likely to die, I think, but I mean, they were very light-hearted. He did say to my mother, if there's a funeral, don't bother to go because they'll jumble a few bones together and they'll put in what they can. And he made light of it, you know, he made a joke out of it. He said, there'll be nothing there that you'll be saying goodbye to that you know. And of course it came to pass. But oh yes, they discussed

everything. And of course it was very clear and obvious to my mother when his friends began to just disappear night after night. Robson was one who'd been leaning on the mantelpiece drinking laughing and then a couple of nights later was gone. And then my mother realised that it was his war, personally, in a way. And he wasn't just flying aircraft. He had a leadership role. People were looking to him. Yes, yes. Well, because he was a regular and he was bumped up in rank.

And a month before he died, he was sent to command Hemswell from Waddington where he was. So he was CO of Hemswell. And indeed, and I think that must have weighed heavy. My mother said that only once in her presence, only once did he actually break down after a particularly dreadful night. I think that was the raid on Kristiansand when half the squadron was lost. And of course, he was commander and squadron leader. Twelve of them went out, six of them got back. What did he think of the raw materials that had the Hamden bomber?

Do you know if he thought that was a bit slow for modern war? That I don't know. I can only surmise, I think he thought it was good to fly. And as far as I understand it, at that early stage of the war, because my father died in June 1940, but the Hamden was still considered pretty fast. And as you know, it was conceived partly as a fighter bomber, although that's another story. That was fatally not able to fight back. The guns weren't automatic.

They couldn't get around quick enough. And so, you know, the planes on the outside were picked off and indeed my father said to my mother um don't worry darling i've got people each side of me they'll be picked off first and so as we get towards the spring and summer of 1940 was he was he busier and busier what what kind of raids was he being sent on? Initially raids against German naval targets? Mines, and I don't know whether they did any leaflets and things like that, but basically naval targets. They were hunting the Scharnhorst, and then they had to bomb shipping.

But of course, at that early stage of the war, as you know, there were a lot of mistakes made and they were learning all the time. It was very, very difficult. Must have been exhausting. Indeed. My mother describes, she's written about all these matters, by the way, and she describes him coming in and just falling on the sofa, dead asleep, and sleeping for hours and then having to go off immediately. And at one time the doctor came and said, you know, you must let him sleep as much as he can. We need him and he's totally exhausted.

You mentioned the one time he broke down. What was that in relation to? You said it's the number of friends and pilots that were being killed on his watch. I can't be certain, but I would imagine that was after the Christian Sand Raid, where he, as it were, lost half his men, including friends, of course. And you know how close these crews were. friends will of course you know and you know how close these crews were so what i'm struggling to realize is that he as well as managing his own aircraft and doing his own job he was also mindful of everybody else on the squadron he's taking he's taking so much on yes yes the strain

of doing that must have been immense i would imagine but there was time for one bit of a brief moment of life entertainment. Absolutely he got home and my dear mother she wrote about it and I think she described it as a last hot hasty rendezvous with love. And the result is sitting in front of you today. I was born eight months after he died. So I was conceived in the last days of his life. And indeed, my mother said to him, she had wanted a second child. My sister is nearly six years older.

She's five and a half years older. And my mother had said, Jack, I'm sure I'm pregnant. You know, I've got that feeling and I'm late and I know it. And their very last words to each other, he rang up from the aerodrome and said, well, darling, we're off. And then he said, if you haven't heard from me by 11 o'clock tomorrow, you'll know I've had it. And then his last words were, are you still all right or wrong? I mean, and he's joking about what she thought. And indeed, the next day she went with her sister to have coffee in Lincoln and sort of forgot 11 o'clock coming and going.

It was a beautiful day in June. She went back to the house, and the staff car was standing outside, and she knew immediately. Wing Commander Joseph John Watts was killed on the 13th of June, 1940. In the aircraft alongside him were Ronald Jolly, John Andrews, and Alexander Wynne Stanley. There were no survivors. Does it make you happy to think that as he took off on that final mission, he was thinking about that little baby growing inside his wife? Tremendously, tremendously. I'm

hugely encouraged by that. And somebody like me and there are thousands of us as you well know I mean I sit here today I feel with hundreds if not thousands behind me of similar ones every day is a plus for us obviously we were so lucky to be made as it were. Tell me about your, what do you know about your father's last mission? Nothing beyond the fact that it was going to some canals. But I don't know. And not only do I not know, but I've heard different versions of his death. My mother, I do not know whether she ever knew the real truth. She certainly didn't at the time. The report was, missing in a flying battle, presumed killed. Well, flying battle, as you know, was a favorite phrase of Bomber Harris. And it wasn't a battle,

not for those bomber boys. They were coming back through long, difficult hours, just trying not to be picked off by the Messerschmitts. So my mother's version was, first of all, that, missing. And, of course, we as little children, we always used to think, he might come home, he might still, he might be out there in Germany, fighting away like biggles or, you know, or Kolditz in disguise. And that's what my sister and I would talk about. And she, as a little thing, she wasn't quite five. She was told that daddy had gone on a long journey, which is what they told them in

those days. And there are these varying versions about it. First of all, killed in a flying battle or missing believed killed in a flight. That's the first thing. Well, it wasn't that. Then when my mother eventually told me what she thought had happened, I had to give her a stiff drink beforehand and sit her down. And it was towards the end of her life. And she maintained that the story was that his plane had come in over Harwich and hadn't given any signals and was in the wrong place. and that the outline of a Hamden was similar to that of a Dornier, and it was shot down, friendly fire. That didn't happen. I then asked Uncle Hallie, Hallie Watts, DSO, DFC, and all that,

when I went to Australia and met him eventually, what happened. And he told me the truth, that the plane had gone into the barrage balloons over Harwich and the port wing had been sliced off and was uncontrolled, went down and Guy Gibson describes this happening and said the poor old Watts, his funeral pyre burned for two days and two nights. It went into a granary at Felixstowe and burned for two days. I think my mother knew. I think she shielded us from all of that. John's mother never forgot what her husband had told her about funerals.

And indeed, my mother didn't go to his funeral. She wouldn't go to Buckingham Palace to collect his DSO, which he knew about. He knew it was on the way, I'm happy to say. But she coped by turning her back on it all and within a week she had sold his car, got lodges in upstairs, got a job. That's the sort of way they carried on, as you know. And for your mum, you mentioned she immediately tried to crack on, but did she ever recover in some sense from what she'd suffered? No, no, no, no. I don't think people do.

It was the love of her life, quite clearly. I've read my father's love letters to her when they were, they met on Hastings Pier when they were 19, both of them. And wow, coup de foudre, it really was. And she didn't recover, but she had such spirit. She, everybody thought she was this wonderful eccentric woman full of fun again rather like my father who swept everybody along but all the time I know she grieved very deeply and she made a huge effort and succeeded in keeping her grief from us children now in the long perspective, one can understand it.

And she wrote a lot of poetry and other things. And I've been sorting her poems out. And the grief is so clear, as well as the radiant love. You listen to Dan Snow's history. It's the story of a boy who lost his father

and a downed aircraft being brought back to life. More coming up. I'm Matt Lewis. And I'm Dr. Alan Orjanaga. And in Gone Medieval, we get into the greatest mysteries. The gobsmacking details and latest groundbreaking research from the greatest millennium in human history. We're talking Vikings,

Normans, Kings and Popes, who were rarely the best of friends, murder, rebellions, and crusades. Find out who we really were by subscribing to Gone Medieval from History Hit

wherever you get your podcasts. You're someone who is wearing your father's tie, you're wearing his medals, you've gone into extraordinary detail about it. Why have you wanted to do that? Does that bring you closer? Does it help you to know every little forensic detail of his life? Dan, all my life, he's been there, but I've had no occasion to talk about him,

especially at length, or to make anything of it, or indeed properly to celebrate him. And this is 80 years on this is 80 years ago he died and I feel hugely pleased and relieved to be here with somebody who cares to listen well I've mentioned the tyre it's such a to tell me about it briefly because you can just you can see how worn it is it's it's a it's a beautiful memento to have. Well the few mementos I have had of his somehow remind me of the 1930s and the Raj it's obviously got some silk in it so it's nearly worn away and he was quite a dandy my father. He loved Gieves and Hawkes and the

outfitters. They were the RAF outfitters. He had no money, a little pilot officer but he loved the best and so when I was polishing these medals the DSO fell apart last week. So I went straight to Gieves and Hawkes and they mended it straight away for free. I was very moved by that. They said we wouldn't dream of charging. My dad has played such a huge part of my life, I can't really imagine not having him. Do you ever get, do you think what might have been if your dad had survived and played

the part of a dad as you were growing up oh yes oh yes what i did was to turn all my school teachers the the male ones into dads i had some very good relationships with my teachers i was lucky a bit of a goody goody i suppose, and they I think understood because they were all the wartime generation, most of them had been through the war, and they were ready to be rather fatherly, I think. If he'd survived for a start, I wonder, you must have heard this many times, would that man, after those horrific experiences, would he have been the man he was in the late 1930s? Would he have been bright and energetic and full of fun and nonsense and games and roaring about? Who's to know? So So I do wonder about that. Also, I'm a very different kind of person.

I may evoke him at times, but I can't imagine what that relationship would have been like. But for me, he's always been a wonderful, bright, happy ghost because our mother evoked him all the time, which is why I call him Daddy, although I never said Daddy to anybody in front of me. But he lives for me through all these wonderful tales. He was a great rip-roaring person who roared into the room and rather took over, a bit like your father, if I may say. You mentioned briefly that your sister, do you think it was harder for your sister? It was more than hard for my sister and has continued to be so.

That's why she isn't here today. She is now 85, so she has some excuse from that as well. But she said to me, no, darling, you go and do it. She didn't feel she could actually get through it. She adored her father idolatrously and he was very naughty. He loved her and made huge fuss, took her into the mess. She would dance on the counter in the mess and she was the most beautiful, engaging little creature. He absolutely adored her. So suddenly he was snatched away.

Suddenly this horrid brute arrived. Suddenly she was six years old and in boarding school. And I think people don't really recover from that totally. No, it was very hard for her. Easy for me, Dan, because, you know, I just had this wonderful, bright, lively father in the background cheering me on. I met his sister only once.

You see, what my mother did, her way, was to turn her back on the whole family, on all the ritual, on the RAF, on all of this panoply that we have about us today, which is why today's important to me. She turned her back, but his sister came to meet me at school just once. And along a long corridor, she looked across and burst into tears because she could see her beloved brother. So yes, what if, the what ifs. It's so interesting as we think about the 80th anniversary of your father's death and

the Battle of Britain and we talk about the numbers and the pilot. It's amazing those ripples of grief are still being felt by you and your sister. Today, even after 80 years, the trauma is still affecting all of us. It's kind of crazy in a way, but it's a tribute to the human spirit, isn't it? That we are able to be so loyal. And you've seen this before, Dan, I know you must have done. And any of the others like me would be the same. It doesn't take much to trigger that grief.

It's always there. Tell me about the journey that led us here today. How did you discover that there was an aircraft here connected with your father? I heard one morning that a Hamden had been reconstructed. Now, there are other Hamdens, I didn't know that. And I just thought that there were none. And so that very morning, the minute I heard that there was a Hamden,

I thought, I must see it, how wonderful. And I got in touch with various friends asking how to, what I should do one of the friends I talked to put me on to you and this all happened within the day and by the end of the day upon which I discovered that my father's plane existed and there was one of his squadron 144 squadron here by the end of that day, Dan, you were in touch saying, can I come and be with you when you see the plane? I remember. And I, as you know, I responded immediately and said nothing would please me more.

Why do you want to see the plane? Just an inanimate object? I think it connects with the questions you were asking earlier about what my father means to me, what grief is, what it's like not to have a father, what it is to be in this peculiar situation of being very aware of someone and very proud of them, but having no tangible connections beyond the little mementos and all my mother's stories and my sister's stories. So I think I'm trotting around that overworked word closure. It's not quite that but I've wanted to see it all my life. I've been aware of these plays. I remember the sound of the bombs during the war. I remember we lived in Mayfair. My mother moved to London. We were right in the midst of it. I remember waking up and hearing this deep, huge drone of a noise filling the

whole world for a little boy. So I'm aware of these. And of course, I have some British movie tone news, a tiny excerpt of my father in that for you. And so I've seen it. It's always there. So to actually, also, of course, to be quite honest, one wonders what his death was like. to be quite honest, while wonders what his death was like. And we will never know. Also, eternal questions. Only now am I really thinking about it in more detail. I've realized that my father's crew, when he died, was not the crew that he spent most of the war with.

Partly, I assume, because he'd been sent to command Hemswell. I don't know what the other reasons might be, but what I think happened was that Wing Commander Luxmore, I think, was killed, but one of his crew, called Jolly, bailed out or was rescued and came back. And would you believe it, was in my father's new crew when they were killed a month later. So you know such are the chances. So my father changed crews and indeed the Movertone News clip which I have shows my father with I think probably a different crew from the one with who he died with but close I mean unbelievably close unbelievably close and my mother always said that not only was it a an intense fraternity but also all about them There was this sense of glamour from the outside.

The schoolgirls would jump on the bonnet of his car and they would shout out, Squaddy, Squaddy! And they were like heroes, although they were Bomber Command, who weren't heroes later on, but then they were. These glamorous, the most glamorous people in the world.

So I think that kind of glamour clung to them. Well let me ask one more question. So sitting here now, your journey is 99.9% complete towards this aircraft that connected you to your father. How are you feeling this morning approaching being reunited with it? Dan, I've prefigured it so many times that I have no, absolutely no idea how it will hit me. I know it will hit me. I know how even small things hit me to do with this subject. And thank you for letting me air it today. and thank you for letting me air it today. A great pleasure.

After that, we went to see the Hamden bomber in one of the workshops of the museum. It's the first time he'd ever seen one, touched one or explored the aircraft. This particular Hamden had even flown in his father's squadron. The audio alone doesn't do justice to what was an extraordinary moment that will stay with me for a long time. For that, you're going to have to go and watch the film on History Hit TV. After an emotionally exhausting visit to the plane, John read me one

of his mother's beautiful poems, Her Sense of Loss. This poem is called June 1940. This poem is called June 1940 A memory of shoulders wearing lightly, bravely, the tunic blue The roar of squadrons already roaring out over our last farewell For Essen, Silt, the marshalling yards at Ham, Cologne or death In the early evening air the atmosphere hung heavy. Life ended or prolonged itself on a few lines written each day in station DROs, indicated faintly. The bantering voice, the tender clasp altered not a whit.

His heart beat warmly against mine for seconds longer. The strong hand gathered, pressed me hard against the dear familiar surge of blue, holding to him extra tightly the atom in me on which we pinned such hope and love. A brother or a sister? I watched the splendid back walking with grace and swiftness, never a backward look, into the summer-scented June. I watched him down the hill, my life contained beneath that tunic. The forage cap jointly poised, the four-lined cuff, and then the revving gratings of the Hemswell overworked hired Trojan van. On its protestings went my world.

Before early summer dawn, over the Belgian bridges, he fought with his crew, desperately for England, and died. That's for you. thank you very much and I meant that thank you John so much for letting us share this story I'm certain that John's father Joseph would have been so proud of the son he never met Thank you.