None of them had, and Jim wasn’t really surprised, for he knew there were thousands upon thousands of prisoners in numberless camps spread right across Burma, Malaya and Thailand, to the islands in the East China Sea and even on the Japanese mainland. God only knew what they were going through if these thousand men were an example of how the Japs treated their prisoners.

Jim determinedly turned his thoughts from what he’d seen and heard that day and concentrated harder on his task. He could hear the burbling of the Forces’ Radio broadcast coming from the mess tent, and didn’t want to miss Prime Minister Churchill’s speech, which everyone suspected would come sometime today.

The news from home had lifted the spirits of the Brigade, but the tension had mounted as they waited for confirmation that peace in Europe really was at hand. He’d heard the reports on the radio of people decorating their houses and shops with bunting and flags and pictures of the King and Queen as well as Churchill; and how they were already gathering in their homes and on the streets to cautiously celebrate. He could just imagine Peggy joining in with alacrity. Darling Peggy always did love a good knees-up, and there would certainly be a party to end all parties if the rumours of peace proved to be true.

His smile was soft with love as he thought of how thrilled and excited his Peggy must be to at last be able to believe that the family was to be reunited after so long, and it made him yearn to be with her when they all came home. But he was realistic enough to know it could be months before he saw any of them again. The Japs might be on the run, but there were still thousands of them in Burma, and they’d fight to the death rather than surrender.

He was rewarded with a mouthful of rust and spat it out just as the bolt loosened and the exhaust pipe came free. With a grunt of satisfaction, he tossed it aside and began to attach the replacement.

He was actually on leave for a few days following the liberation of Rangoon, but in less than a week he’d be back in action to rout the retreating Japs from the Mawchi Road. As good as it was not to be shot at or ambushed, or have to witness the blood and guts of the suicidal Japs that were lying everywhere, he’d soon become restless and bored at being confined to this jungle camp on the Indian border where there was little to do but swim in the river, play endless games of cards, drink and watch the rain teem down.