Ishbel had experience with the University Officers Training Corps (OTC) and the Territorial Army (TA) before she joined the WRAC in 1985. She had trained as a pharmacist at university and it was only after graduating she considered joining the army. She recalls Crusade Eight as the first major operation she worked on alongside the local infantry unit. Ishbel describes how in this role, aside from escorting VIPS, most of the women would take on administrative work. She was then posted to C Company in Grangemouth as a Platoon Commander and comments on the changing atmosphere surrounding women's treatment in the early 1980s. Ishbel also describes how in the OTC and the TA women were afforded more opportunities, such as weapons and armed combat training, whereas the WRAC were only just introducing weapons training. From this point Ishbel underwent a series of role changes within the army; she traveled to Sandhurst, Catterick, Cyprus, Northern Ireland, and London where she completed her Masters in Administration. At Porton Down, she revisited her pharmacist experience and worked with scientists to develop pharmaceutical and technological military defences. Ishbel went on to become an Adjutant General in Bosnia, the Balkans, then a Lieutenant Colonel in Cyprus and a medic in both Iraq and Afghanistan. Reflecting on the WRAC, Ishbel feels that it gave her the grounding to begin her wider military career. An inspiring interview, we thank Ishbel for her incredible stories and for being a trailblazing woman.

John volunteered for the RAF just before the start of WW2, but failed the vision test and instead joined the Army. He was assigned to the armoured corps and soon after he volunteered for Special Operations Executive. At the time parachuting was not mentioned and John thinks that if it had been he would not have volunteered! During training he specialised in Signals and learned unarmed combat and parachuting, which he was not too keen on. He was scheduled to parachute into France before D-Day but the mission was aborted at the last minute. Instead they dropped after D-Day, from a Short Stirling bomber. Due to a storm the pilot could not find the drop zone but they parachuted anyway. Three days later they met their French resistance contacts near Dijon. Here they received knowledge of a German troop train passing through. John contacted HQ and the information was passed to the RAF who bombed it. During this time he could see German radio detector vans trying to find their precise location. Later he and the Resistance attacked troops guarding Marshall Petain, the Vichy collaborator, as he tried to get to Switzerland. During this time the British stayed in uniform to avoid execution if captured by the enemy. On his return to Britain he was sent to jungle training school and then parachuted into Burma and during this period he was shelled by ‘friendly fire’. His unit fought the Japanese and they eventually met up with the British 14^th Army.

Having lived through WWII as a child, Michael was conscripted at age 18. He trained as an anti-tank gunner in Norfolk and then sailed for Korea on the Emperor Orwell in late August 1950. He and his compatriots were among the first British regiments to go to Korea. He tells of the journey to Korea, stopping in Egypt, Ceylon, Singapore and Hong Kong. Life on board ship involved training on what to expect, as well as practice on the 17 pounder anti-tank gun. Michael describes a 24-hour train journey to Britannia camp after arriving in Pusan. From there he tells of day-to-day life, fighting trench warfare, primarily on 355 hill (Kowang Sang). Conditions were very challenging; they lived in a constant state of alertness, remaining in their clothes and boots as they had to be prepared to fight at a moment’s notice. Suffering frequent mortar bombardment and attacks by the PVA, Michael describes in detail the measures they had to take to counteract these attacks and the importance of keeping going despite the fear. He returned home after two years and tells of his frustration that the Korean war appears to have been forgotten.