Dan Snow's History Hit - Remembrance Sunday: In Search of My Father

Episode Date: November 8, 2020

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 never knew that a bomber from his father's squadron was recovered and is being restored by the RAF museum in Cosford. Dan accompanied John to the museum for the emotional visit which he hoped would bring closure after 80 years of pain.Subscribe to History Hit and you'll get access to hundreds of history documentaries, as well as every single episode of this podcast from the beginning (400 extra episodes). We're running live podcasts on Zoom, we've got weekly quizzes where you can win prizes, and exclusive subscriber only articles. It's the ultimate history package. Just go to historyhit.tv to subscribe. Use code 'pod1' at checkout for your first month free and the following month for just £/€/$1.

Welcome to Dan Snow's History and Everyone. Welcome to a very, very special episode of this podcast. About six months ago, I was contacted by a man called John Watts. He told me that his father, Joseph Watts, had been killed on the 13th of June 1940 in a Hamden bomber returning for mission over occupied Europe. In the aircraft alongside him were three other crew members. All four men were killed. John Watts, at the time, was a two or three week old embryo inside his mother, Nora. John, obviously, therefore, never knew his father. And he never knew that there was a Hamden bomber from his father's squadron surviving in a museum, the RF Museum in Cosford. As soon as he found out, he was desperate to see this aircraft, the kind of plane that his father had been killed

and he'd never seen that or any other Hamden bomber. He got in touch with me and as soon as lockdown was lifted, we went up to RAF Cosford together, toured the museum and eventually we were shown into the workshop where they're restoring this very special Hamden bomber. This is both a History Hit podcast, it's also a History Hit TV documentary. If you wish to watch an extended version of what John and I got up to that day and learn a bit more about the Hamden bomber and John's father Joseph and his mother Nora,

please go to History Hit TV. You can go and watch the very moving documentary there. If you use the code POD1, you get a month for free and your second month for just one pound, euro or dollar. So please do go and check that out. In the meantime, please enjoy listening to the very remarkable John Watts talking about his father. 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.

I 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 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 1939 new year's 1940 as it were how old was he he was very old he was at that point 32 oh wow a. Grizzled veteran. But of course, he was regular and he joined the RAF in 1932, I think. Learned to fly out in Abu Suwa 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 fak, of course. That's the one, North West Frontier, in the campaign against the fakia of Ippie.

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 airplane.

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 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 the 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 realized 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 Christians, 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 he had, the Hamden bomber? Did he, do you know if he thought that was a bit slow for modern war? That I don't know. I can only surm sum up 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 busier and busier? 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? 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 Sound raid, where he, as it were, lost half his men, including friends, of course, you know. And you know how close these crews were. So what I'm struggling to realise 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 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 Yes, 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 that his last words were, are you still all right or wrong? I mean, and he is 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. 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 obviously somebody like me, and there are thousands of us as you will 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. owls, 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 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 my mother's version uh 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 called it 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 flying battle. 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 that 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 and two nights. 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. 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. 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'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. Land a Viking longship on island shores, scramble over the dunes of ancient egypt and avoid the poisoner's cup in renaissance florence each week on echoes of history we uncover the epic stories that inspire assassin's creed we're stepping into feudal japan in our special series chasing shadows where samurai warlords and shinobi spies teach us the tactics and skills needed not only to survive, but to conquer.

Whether you're preparing for Assassin's Creed Shadows or fascinated by history and great stories, listen to Echoes of History, a Ubisoft podcast brought to you by History Hits. There are new episodes every week. Well, I've mentioned the tyre. Tell me about it briefly, because you can see how worn it is. 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 Gives and Hawks 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 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 schoolteachers, 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 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 called 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 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 is 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 in the Battle of Britain and we talk about the numbers and the pilots. 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 a 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 I'm 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 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. 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 Movetone News clip, which I have, shows my father with, I think, probably a different crew from the one with whom he died with,

but close, I mean, unbelievably close, unbelievably close. And my mother always said that. Not only was it an intense fraternity but also all about them there was the sense of glamour from the outside the school girls would jump on the bonnet of his car and there was 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 with the Father.

How are you feeling this morning approaching being reunited with it? Dan, I've prefigured it so many times that I have 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. 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 about her sense of loss. 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. I feel we have the history upon our shoulders.

All this tradition of ours, our school history, our songs, this part of the history of our country, all were gone and finished and liquidated. Hi everyone, thanks for reaching the end of this podcast. and fish, and liquid. Hi everyone, thanks for reaching the end of this podcast. Most of you are probably asleep, so I'm talking to your snoring forms, but anyone who's awake, it would be great if you could do me a quick favour. Head over to wherever you get your podcasts

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