Stevie Szabad, Author

You know you’re a military brat when… There are many ways to finish this thought. One way that I experienced this past week with my husband (and former brat himself, now a retired military veteran) while on a couple days getaway, is this.

You are travelling, sight-seeing in a new area about a day’s drive away from home. In this case, from our home in the Outaouais region near Ottawa, a jaunt and stay in the Charlevoix and Saguenay regions of Quebec. A whole day to kill, the drive is lovely, fjords and good – though changeable through the hills – weather. We stop for lunch in Chicoutimi. Chicoutimi? Name is familiar, of course, we’re hockey parents, and this is a major junior and university hockey town. Then, of course, CFB Bagotville (as I would remember the name, now known as 2&3 Wing Bagotville) comes to mind. We had lived at the sister base in Alberta in our time, CFB Cold Lake. Now 4 Wing. Fighter Air bases. How far from our downtown lunch? Only 20 minutes? On the way back to the hotel in Charlevoix? Of course we’ll do a drive-by. What military brat wouldn’t?

And then the big surprise – on the drive-by, a huge outdoor display of vintage air craft. Fighter jets and search and rescue helicopters. We of course must stop and look around.

Even a Russian Mig! Donated by Czech Republic, (as it was known then, now Czechia. Everything changes.)

And an indoor museum, inside what I recognize what used to be a base chapel, like the one I was married in. In CFB Petawawa. (as known then, today Garrison Petawawa). Note the tea set, from when the squadron was in Germany. I lived in Germany. I was an army brat then, though.

After a final little drive around, recognizing buildings – there’s the rec centre, the CANEX, the tower… then a sound and sight to bring tears to our eyes : trainer jets taking off, multiples, screaming right overhead, enough of them to to even get photo.

Back to how I know I’m still a military brat. Because even on a retirement getaway to a Casino resort out in the far reaches of Quebec. Because even at a modern base, wing, garrison, whatever they’re called, where I never lived, never even had been, I can visit a little bit of my own home and past. Everything changes, but after all,  the past is still part of the present and future.

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