Gilbert Beck’s journey into military music began humbly in rural Oxfordshire, where his father brought home a grand piano from a local market, sparking a lifelong passion. Raised in a musical family, Gilbert sang in the church choir and played organ before joining the Army in 1948 as a band boy with the Royal Artillery. Trained at Woolwich and later Kneller Hall, Gilbert played double bass, tuba, and bass trombone, eventually joining the North Staffordshire Regiment. His musical service took him across Europe and into the Korean War, where he played a vital role in maintaining morale. From conducting services with a portable organ to performing for multinational troops, including Canadians and Americans, his music helped bridge cultural divides in a devastated landscape. In Korea, Gilbert played at the dedication of a tented village for displaced civilians and led hymns at makeshift services in Gloucester Valley. His experience highlighted the humanising power of music amid the harshness of war. Later selected for the demanding bandmaster course at Kneller Hall, Gilbert's talent earned him great respect, even as he ultimately chose family life over a full military career. Music remained central to Gilbert’s life, both in and out of uniform - a true servant of harmony in service and in peace.

Jim Selway grew up in Mill Hill, London. Though his father had served in the First World War, his own military path was sparked by an uncle’s advice to pursue tanks. After Sandhurst, which he found something of a disappointment, he was commissioned to Germany where he first encountered the formidable Centurion Mk3. By 1952, his regiment was ordered to relieve the 5th Royal Inniskilling Dragoon Guards in Korea.

In his interview, Jim recalls the static nature of the conflict when he arrived: tanks holding no-man’s-land and protecting the vital position of the Hook. As a commander, he was known for being aggressive in action — “you just lived and breathed, about to be attacked.” He describes both the safety the tanks offered and the risks of leaving their armour.

Jim’s reflections span the camaraderie of Commonwealth troops, close ties with Australian comrades, light-hearted moments on R&R in Tokyo, and even the cast iron bell he brought home — still rung daily at Bovington. For Jim, Korea was the making of him as an officer, and he remains determined that it should never be remembered as the “Forgotten War.”

In his interview he talks about his early life in Liverpool including recollections of the blitz and his first job as a rat-catcher. On the way to Korea, Alan and a friend set-up a make-shift photographic studio taking pics of some of the families that were also en-route to the Far East. He arrives in Pusan and then travels towards the front line where the desolation and cold are striking memories. Alan’s unit, a tight-knit group of 30 specialists, was tasked with teaching soldiers on disease prevention and health and hygiene. He talks in detail about his work including the various medications and processes for keeping the troops fighting fit. He reflects that despite the brutality of the war, there were surprisingly few cases of mental trauma. Alan was in Korea during the ceasefire. When he returned to England he married and became an army reservist. One morning he receives a telegram and by the afternoon he was back in barracks.  Then he's posted to the Suez and the start of a difficult posting. In later life, Alan became President of the British Korean Veterans Association and was instrumental in the building of the Korean War memorial on London's SouthBank.