Douglas Hassall shares how he narrowly escaped a death sentence after spending three and a half years as one of Japan’s prisoners of war during World War 2. Douglas accepted early on that escaping would be foolish as any escapees were executed; the camp being located in Vietnam also left the nearest allies 1100 miles away.  The Japanese employed beatings and other instantaneous punishments, something alien to a British soldier like Douglas, their neglectful medical care equally as shocking to him. Despite his horrible treatment Douglas highlights how incredibly lucky he was as the other camps had prisoners sleeping outside with no access to clean water. The few lenient guards allowed them to hold concerts and church services however over time the Japanese replaced them with cruel guards who murdered the prisoners’ pets.    Douglas got his first hint of freedom after a British interpreter secretly told him that allies were closing in, both of them unaware that Japan’s prisoners of war were all destined to die. Prison labour had halted and transportation of prisoners to the execution site had begun when the second atomic bomb fell forcing Japan to free everyone at the very last second.  Unfortunately Douglas’ release was bittersweet due to the plane transporting one of his friends back to England crashing killing everyone on board.   

Basil Chambers recounts his experiences stationed in volatile post-war Berlin. The severe winter of 1947 motivated Basil to enlist in the Royal Norfolk Regiment. He joined the Signals Corps where he trained to become an instructor, and on passing his exams was sent to post-war Berlin. Taken to barracks in the suburb of Spandau, Basil recalls open land, and a lack of building, that is except for Spandau Prison, which housed convicted Nazi war criminals. Basil recounts the surreal experience of watching Rudolf Hess take his daily walk. Identified as a sportsman, Basil tells of his eagerness to run in the 5,000 metres, despite not having ‘a clue what that was’! His desire to succeed means he can boast the rare accolade of victory at the Berlin Olympic Stadium! The souring of Western Allies and Soviet Union relations resulted in road, rail and water blockades by Soviet forces. The airlifts that followed, taking food and fuel into Berlin, introduced Basil to flying, albeit sitting on crates of cheese! Basil and his colleagues gained a rare insight into life in post-war Berlin. He describes a community dealing with power outages and food shortages, but his overriding memory is that of resilient hardworking people ‘really making an effort to get back on their feet’.

Mary Soames OBE delivers a vibrant account of her journey from an ambulance driver for the First Aid Nursing Yeomanry (FANYs) to a colonel in the British Army. She recounts with fondness the memories and occasional challenges that emerged throughout her twenty-six-year career which witnessed the entirety of the Second World War. Initially driving converted bread vans as ambulances at Royal Albert Docks following the outbreak of war, Mary moved to a more senior and administrative role at Streatham Common. As she progressed through her career, Mary undertook more senior roles and responsibilities in a variety of locations and shares the stories she collected along the way, including brief affiliations with the intelligence corps, tales of the Blitz, and interactions with Royal Family members. Mary joined the army in 1942, where she was commissioned as a colonel and remained in this position until her marriage in 1964. Mary’s story reflects some of the struggles that women faced in positions of military authority. Nonetheless, her pride at being a member of FANY and admiration for the remarkable organisation are illuminated throughout her account. Her career was one of remarkable growth and was made all the more commendable with her roles as life vice-president of WRAC Association and chairman of the Benevolent Fund.   The publication of this previously unseen interview was made possible thanks to a grant from The Gerry Holdsworth Special Forces Charity, to mark 80 years since the closure of the Special Operations Executive (SOE) in January 1946.