In the early 1960’s Basil Peacock found himself unexpectedly in Bangkok, some twenty years after his last visit to that city. He hired a car and with his wife and American friends and drove up to the river Kwai. The hire car manager charged little, exclaiming:
“You work on railroad! Not dead yet! You must have iron bones — I make special price.”
His companions listening to him talking about his time as a Far East Prisoner of War (FEEPOW) persuaded him to write up his story. It was published in 1966 and is, as he says, mainly about the:
“bizarre rather than the tragic. My memories of unusual, odd and even crazy incidents were vivid and detailed, but those of horror curiously blurred.”
Basil Peacock was a veteran of the First World War, he joined under-age in 1916, received the Military Cross in 1917 and was wounded and captured in 1918. This gives him a perspective on his later captivity that few other writers possess. Prisoner on the Kwai is an excellent, extremely readable account of the FEPOW experience under the Japanese. [It includes some non-PC language.]
In the last five years I have read more than fifty books by or about FEPOWs, some published, others as private accounts or diaries in museums. Contemporary diaries are rare; they contain truth that is of the moment, but the contents can be restricted by the fear of discovery. The early post-war accounts vary and were often rejected by publishers as too brutal, particularly those by ordinary soldiers. Many who felt the need to record the three and a half years taken out of their lives were not natural writers, and their accounts lack balance and structure; sometimes bitterness, sensationalism or vainglory overwhelm the story. Others are brilliant, painful, heartbreaking and heartwarming.
The basic truths that always emerge are the desperation of hunger, the dependence on mates and the extraordinary endurance of the human will under every conceivable insult to the body. Reading these accounts, will confirm that altruism is a real human quality and so, sadly, is sadism, and that luck plays a very big role in survival.
Another thing that also emerges is that each man’s experience is unique. It is almost unheard of for even two men to spend the whole of their captivity together. Prisoners were sent hither and yon with no predictability throughout the war.
Some entries from the diary of Edward (Ted) Hammond who served as an ordinary enlisted soldier in the 5th Battalion of the Suffolk Regiment:
April 28th [1942] Been at work on road making. Bullied about and beaten up by the Japs with sticks and iron bars. Kept at work until 6.15p.m.
April 29th [1942] No work today. Emperor of Japan’s birthday. Usual breakfast, plain boiled rice and watery milk. Fine day after rain all night.
Sun. Dec 27th [1942] Work on the railway. I’m very weak indeed. Two more funerals today.
Wed. Dec 30th [1942] Work on malarial drains. Another funeral.
Sun.Feb 14th [1943] Work as usual. Pte Jarvis died last night.
Mon. Feb 15th [1943] Work again. One year ago today since the fateful day of Singapore’s capitulation and one year of hard work, chiefly on rice. Now we must hope for the best.
This is Ted’s last entry. He was marching up to the higher reaches of the railway, he was very cold at night, starving and his two particular friends were very sick. Work on the railway was lasting all day from dark until dark. He died on October 16th 1943 of bacillary dysentery and beri-beri.
See also pacific paratrooper on this subject.
Green Writing Room 
A very sad but powerful account, Hilary. I would find it difficult to read as deeply into such times as you have done.
Like most children with a FEPOW father, this story is part of my childhood. Yes, I did find my reading harrowing to start with, then two things happened. I became a little hardened, but more importantly, time after time I came across instances of heroism, incredible spirit, inventiveness, capacity for joy in small things and amazing friendship. Since he died I have been working with a mass of letters from that period that I will bring to publication one day.
hi there are you related to basil peacock .
No, I have no connection to Basil Peacock. I am researching Far East POWs, especially those who worked on the Thailand-Burma Railway. His was a particularly good account. Are you related to a Far East POW?
Altogether too much pointless waste. I don’t know how you found it in you to read 59+ books on this subject.
I read because I want to understand this arena of the war as fully as possible. Much life, not only of the Allies, but more from the surrounding countries, was wasted, yet beautiful music was played, people learned foreign languages, people of different cultures met and found common ground…
All together dreadful and the horrors are still happening today; just elsewhere.
Yes, bad stuff is certainly happening today and much of this experience was dreadful, but not all of it. The determination of the Japanese to build the railroad resulted in thousands of deaths, but, unlike the holocaust, there was no overall intention to kill the prisoners. Humanity has a long way to go, yet in spite of the news, I do believe we are less warlike than in earlier periods.
It comes to mind that you show both courage and persistence in your willingness to dig deeper and deeper into the personal stories related by the FEEPOWs, Hilary. Obviously, you have become an expert in the area, I suspect one of the few. I liked your statement: “Reading these accounts, will confirm that altruism is a real human quality and so, sadly, is sadism, and that luck plays a very big role in survival.” –Curt
Thank you. I feel as though I have barely skimmed the surface of what is there (I have twenty unread books on the subject on my shelves) and there are many children of FEPOWs who are much more dedicated than I am. I have learnt a lot, though, and I hope to publish an account of the survival or families and relationships in the end – though I fear it will less coherent than Basil Peacock’s book.
But I imagine you have read enough to capture the heart of the matter, Hilary.
As a third-party account, you have both the advantage of distance, as well as the lack of first-hand knowledge, Hilary. But I think your book will be well worth the long soul-searching it requires. Of course, that’s easy for me to say …
Well, I hope you are right. I only planned to be the editor of my parents’ letters to each other, my father’s memoirs and the amazing letters written by FEPOW relatives to my mother during the war, but it has turned into something else.
I think that’s probably inevitable, Hilary. The more you learn from your parents’ letters and those of your FEPOW relatives, the more intense and immediate the whole thing must become. And to a writer such as yourself, I suspect that can only lead to a book — one I would very much like to read!
I find it so hard to imagine that these men could have ever been forgotten. Not one story truly has a happy ending – survival of the horrors of hell is the best it can get.
It’s the old stiff upper lip, I’m afraid, the ‘least said, soonest mended’ attitude, which people of that generation truly believed was the best way to deal with trauma. Many succeeded quite well until they reached old age, but all were marked in some way.
Yes, I’m afraid they were.
You have such eclectic tastes, Hilary my little love … What is it you intend to bring to publication ? – I mean, what form of writing ?
Yes, I’m the original jack of all trades. I originally planned to edit and collate my father’s FEPOW memoirs, my parents’ wartime correspondence and the letters from the wives, mothers and other relatives of the missing men to my mother. However, although I am not an historian, I’ve ended up trying to write the story of the survival of family relationships using this material. So basic historical non-fiction.
I should love to have a project like that ! TRULY … I wish you all the joy in the writing world with it.
I’ll do my best.
You never do other, I am perfectly sure !
Ummm housework…?
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Shocking and tragic just reading the few lines of the diary. I applaud your dedication to learning more about this time of war.
I found this diary, so ordinary in many of the entries, particularly sad, yet some mate kept all the tiny scraps of paper on which it was written and got them back to his widow two years later.
Your words are so eloquent here and express sentiments very well when you wrote, “The basic truths that always emerge are the desperation of hunger, the dependence on mates and the extraordinary endurance of the human will under every conceivable insult to the body. Reading these accounts, will confirm that altruism is a real human quality and so, sadly, is sadism, and that luck plays a very big role in survival.” I honor and respect those who endured through very depressing days.
Me too. There were many ordinary people caught up in this conflict and so many of them, on all sides, were quietly heroic.
How fascinating. I am intrigued by this time period myself. My area of Virginia was heavily populated by German POWs brought here during WWII as farm laborers. We know their accounts of treatment vary dramatically from those in Japan, Germany, and Russia. My uncle was a German POW placed in Alabama – an experience which probably saved his life as he lived out the worst of the war here in the States. I so wish somebody had asked him about his experiences while he was still alive – so many stories lost to time. This is a wonderful project upon which you embark.
Interestingly my father was stationed in Germany after the war. So as a child I met real ordinary Germans before I ever understood about their role in the war. This has helped me to understand that we are all the same underneath, though culture and powerful leaders can sway us in unexpected directions. I have been lucky that my father never threw away the letters he and my mother wrote and received during that period and that he wrote his memoirs (only because he was tied to a chair waiting for a hip operation).
I was born in Germany, Hilary, to an American GI and a German mother. We lived in Army quarters and at some point I figured out that my Opa’s army had fought my father’s. To a child who sees the world in black and white, this was a transformative realization really. Not to overstate it, but I think I was never again able to view situations without at least being open to the grays.
I feel this is the ultimate answer to world peace, if we keep stirring all the national pots until no-one belongs entirely to one nation perhaps… just perhaps… we will stop fighting to preserve some mythical superiority.
Hello Hilary
I was touched to come across and read your account of Prisoner on the Kwai, by Basil Peacock.
Basil was my grandfather and a recall him sitting in a small upstairs bedroom in Surrey, typing up his notes on a manual typewriter, to create Prisoner, his first book.
Thank you for your interest in his book – even through it has taken me more than two years to discover it !
-Nigel Peacock-
Nigel, I am delighted you came by and liked my account of your grandfather’s book. It was such a horrendous time for Far East POWs and it will have taken much courage and the skill to write about it afterwards. Your grandfather was a rare and fine person. Last year I managed to get the book I was researching published by Pen and Sword. This was about my father and the 68 men with him and also the families of the men back in Britain. Apart from my father’s memoirs, I had all the correspondence between my parents and the wonderful letters written to my mother by the families of FEPOWs during the war.
Dear Nigel I have been fascinated to read this tonight, I was next door neighbour to your grandfather at Harcourt Field Wallington 1963-68. Having broken my leg and off work for 5 weeks, Mr Peacock very kindly used to make me lunch some days, he mentioned the Kwai & very kindly lent me Prisoner on the Kwai & Return to the Kwai, we had many interesting talks when recalling his memories & his return visit with his wife. Regards Ray Savage Holmfirth West Yorks 08/05/2020
Hello Ray, I am so glad you chanced on my post mentioning Basil Peacock’s book. I do hope Nigel sees this and gets in touch with you. If he does not, this Facebook has the same photo and you should be able to get in touch with him through that. https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100004818344552
Hello Ray
They say it is a small world and it is. I was brought up in Harcourt Field for my first year or so and supposedly watched the Queen’s coronation there on a small TV there, sat up in my pram 🙂
Which side did you live, nine or 13?
We use to visit my grandparents quite a bit over the years you mentioned, as we lived elsewhere in Wallington until 1967. It is possible we may have met at some point.
-Nigel-
Hello Ray
They say it is a small world and it is. I was brought up in Harcourt Field for my first year or so and supposedly watched the Queen’s coronation there on a small TV there, sat up in my pram 🙂
Which side did you live, nine or 13?
We use to visit my grandparents quite a bit over the years you mentioned, as we lived elsewhere in Wallington until 1967. It is possible we may have met at some point.
-Nigel-
Hello Nigel,
I have also chanced upon this web string while looking Basil up on the Internet, trying to find out when he died. The only Basil Peacock I can find on the internet died in 2015 who clearly was not your grandfather if he was born in 1898.
My stepfather and godfather was Alan Copley Clark to whom Basil dedicated ‘Tinker’s Mufti’. Alan was a solicitor in Sutton and he married my mother, Margery Ware, in 1967. He died in 1976. I can remember Basil – I think he came to Alan’s Tuesday Nights with the men which were sacrosanct and not to be disturbed! He also came down to Bosham to the cottages Alan bought after the war. Alan was very tall and, in comparison, Basil was short.
You probably didn’t know Alan but I found it interesting finding the conversations
Best wishes and stay healthy in these peculiar times
Liz Taverner
Bosham
Hi Liz
I don’t have the exact time my grandfather died. It was around 1991.
Now, the world becomes even smaller.
Alan Copley Clark. I did a summer work experience, as they were later called, with Alan at his office in Sutton. That was in summer 1969, the year man landed on the moon. I would have been 16 at the time. I remember it well, although I had little actual contact with Alan, who was semi-retired at the time I believe.
I recall answering the phones, doing some really rubbish typing, and witnessing wills and other documents. I was once trusted with taking a banker’s draft from Sutton to a solicitor in London, to complete a house purchase. It was for £5,000 the largest amount of money I’d ever seen.
My father, Gerald, pictured in ‘Prisoner’, is 95 years young now.
Thanks for your message and stay safe!
-Nigel-