Well, the first five parties went off and so did Nogoochi, leaving Mashusta in charge – with strict instructions, however, from Nogoochi. The 7th Party would leave on August 20th and ours on the 24th. As soon as Nogoochi had gone we tried to do something about the wretched Bill Reeves, who was still in the No Good House. He could now only walk with a stick, was terribly emaciated and had a long beard. Mentally, he was in a very poor state. He had looked like dying some time ago and the doctors had hidden vitamin powders in his rice and put eggs in the teapot he was then allowed. But two months of such ill treatment and no prospect of release could only have one possible ending. Mashusta, it now seemed, was forbidden to let Bill out, but he allowed him more and good food and said he would not let him die. That was the best we could get. Otherwise, thanks to Mashusta, all the piddling rules of Nogoochi were forgotten and the whole atmosphere of the camp, in spite of the work of packing and loading that had to be done, became happier and healthier in every way.

The next party due to leave was the hospital party, on August 16th. And then some rather queer things started to happen. We had noticed there had been no planes over for some time, and on August 14th a Korean told our chief interpreter that the war was over. Of course, the rumour was all round the camp in a couple of minutes, but no one took it very seriously for we’d had dozens of similar rumours before and we couldn’t check up on the radio because the batteries had packed in about two months previously. But the next morning, several Koreans confirmed the story and bets began to be made. Woolley – on the Sick Party of course – bet a Colonel the war was not over, and was taken at 10 to 1. I followed suit with a Dutch friend to the tune of an even fiver. Then, that morning, a party of officers were working on taking down barbed wire on the camp fence when a bus load of Thais went by outside. As they rattled past several people heard them shout: ‘War finish! You go home!’ and after that we all heard the chorus of ‘O.K. O.K. O.K. O.K.!!!’ At this point I began to hope that I really might lose my bet – in fact prayed that I might! The rumours that night were terrific and the camp was keyed up, everyone being certain now that something really big had happened.