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D-Day is a great time to remember a dad's war effort

Celebrating D-Day today, columnist Laurie Watt remembers her dad's service during World War 2, with the Royal Canadian Air Force
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Laurie Watt's column Watt's on Barrie

Like many Royal Canadian Air Force vets, my dad never told his story.

With the Distinguished Flying Cross among his medals, Warrant Officer Charlie Watt spent the early years of my parents’ marriage in Burma.

 

Laurie'sDad1-3Warrant Officer Charlie Watt

In his early 20s, he trained not just in flying, but in ciné photography and army cooperation. Assigned to Burma, he and his best friend Bud went on reconnaissance missions over the jungle.

Before they would get into their planes in the predawn darkness, they would start their day by shaking the scorpions out of their shoes.

They adopted two kittens, Hurri and Cane – all these details I discovered by reading For Your Tomorrow: Canadians and the Burma Campaign 1941-1945, by Robert H. Farquharson.

Dad never spoke of his time in southeast Asia. We could see the loss and pain he felt, a glimpse of the terror of flying over the jungle doing reconnaissance work, as well as shooting down enemy planes.

I could see the tears in Dad’s eyes as he would polish his medals in preparation for the Remembrance Day parade. We would all attend, as the day off school allowed us to try to understand what our parents endured. My mother, too, suffered. She undoubtedly worried about her new husband heading halfway around the world, seeing violence and death each day.

Nothing ever compared with the day he saw Bud get shot down, however. Their mission that day was to search, find and shoot down Japanese planes that threatened a British post.

Out of the glaring sun came two Japanese bombers, one which shot down Bud’s plane. Bud ejected and fell into the jungle, his body never found.

That loss inspired my dad to shoot down two Japanese bombers in February 1945, an action that garnered him the DFC.

My dad returned home suffering from what we now would consider post-traumatic stress.

He would never talk of his time in India.

I found out years later he’d visit family in Scotland while he was overseas on leave and that explained why each Saturday morning, he’d tune into the Sounds of Scotland on the radio while he cooked up a Scottish breakfast spiced up with curry. It was the Saturday morning ritual of my life before I left home for university.

In small ways, I still connect with my dad, who passed away 31 years ago last week.

The timing of drummers in the Freedom of the City parade last Saturday was one way and as Base Borden – the birthplace of the RCAF – celebrates its centennial, I’ll find a connection there too.

Then there’s the aroma and taste of curry at any one of Barrie’s incredible Indian restaurants. Or even just pausing to spend time with my two cats, including one who joined our family last week, one who needs to be shown more love – those too connect me with Dad’s generous heart.

And I know Dad would say “that’s my little girl.”

And nothing could be better, except perhaps seeing him again one day, when we’re both in the heavens.