As a chronicler of the human cost of the notorious ‘death railway’, John was a pioneer among former POWs. His account was not only the first off the press, but it is still widely considered to be one of the most accurate and detailed. Railroad is, in John’s words, ‘a very nearly completely true book’ (Introduction to the 1946 edition of Railroad of Death). John chose to give pseudonyms to the Allied prisoners and ‘sometimes rolled a few of them together and typified them as one man’ (ibid). All the Japanese were called by their real names, often in addition to the nicknames given to them by the prisoners—for example, Medical Sergeant Nobasawa was nicknamed the ‘Horse Doctor’ (Railroad, Chapter 6). In the process of researching this new edition of Railroad of Death, we have been able to identify over fifty of the Allied FEPOWs who feature in John’s narrative, as well as some of the more elusive Eurasian prisoners: the list of real names can be found in Appendix Nine. As these have been identified, it becomes clear that this book is not only a great read, but also an invaluable historical resource.

Several of these men, particularly those in John’s kongsi, mentioned in the dedication of the book, remained close after the war. Jim Richardson, Gilbert Inglefield, George Sully, Hugh de Wardener as well as Joop Nittel, all wrote to congratulate him on the publication of this book and continued to correspond throughout their lives.

His memoir is vivid in its detail, raw and compelling in its narrative style. However, it also displays the calm and even-handed perspective and intellectual curiosity that was typical of his character and which shaped the remarkable trajectory of the rest of his life. John chronicled the physical, mental and emotional challenges faced daily by the POWs and described the various ingenious and creative ways in which these challenges were overcome.

The culture and reality of the camps

The appalling conditions of forced labour, inadequate nutrition and callous neglect of prisoners’ health are well-documented, both in this book and in the others that followed. However, Railroad highlights how an ad hoc but vibrant cultural life in several of the camps helped to save sanity and lives. The prompt establishment of camp ‘universities’ and ‘bamboo theatres’ did much to keep the POWs’ spirits up and alleviate the crushing boredom that punctuated the work and inevitable periods of sickness. The universities of Changi and Chungkai are the best known, but similar efforts were made in other camps. As Brian MacArthur notes, musical or theatrical events were staged in at least twenty-four camps and some sort of cultural activity was organised by POWs in most of the camps along the line. Although the first concert party took place in Changi as early as March 1942, the bar was set by the performances staged at Chungkai, the biggest camp in Thailand, which was commanded by the theatre-loving Owtram, the ‘Singing Colonel’.