Jacqueline Passman discusses her new book, A Cool Head in Hell, which chronicles her father’s extraordinary survival story as a doctor in Japanese POW camps during World War II.
Hi Jacqueline, tell us how this book project came about?
I guess everyone thinks their father is special, but we certainly do. Like many Far East survivors, Dad never talked about his experiences. I discovered when researching they were actually issued with an order forbidding them to talk about their incarceration. The war in Europe was over, people were getting on with their lives and no-one wanted to hear tales of hardship. When you think how many must have been affected by PTSD, it’s appalling. I didn’t learn the extent until the 1980s when my parents visited Singapore and toured Changi, where he had been imprisoned.
While Dad was alive, he read excerpts to me about working ‘up country’ on the railway- horrendous times. I sent these to the Imperial War Museum, who were fascinated. Researchers contacted dad, including Yorkshire Television for their Doctors at War programme. After he died, my siblings and I felt the complete diary deserved to be known. I transcribed everything with help from my brother and daughter.
What effect did that visit to Changi have?
It was cathartic. When he returned, he got down a suitcase from the wardrobe, packed with diaries, drawings, sketches, medals, and medical instruments and began reflecting on his experiences. Then his friend Jim Bradley, who’d had a horrific time with an attempted escape, sent Dad his book with a letter saying: “Why don’t you write up your diary?” Dad thought only small sections would interest anyone.
When he was a POW, keeping a diary in itself was illegal. Dad occasionally cut out little sections which would have shown the Japanese they had access to an illicit radio, which was an offence punishable by death.
What makes these diaries so historically significant?
Unlike memoirs written afterwards, Dad’s diary is contemporaneous – a real-time account spanning three and a half years as a prisoner in Singapore. He was objective, writing only when he had something different to offer as paper was scarce. I think it helped him stay sane, putting experiences down on paper.
And how did your father cope with revisiting these memories?
My father could compartmentalise, saying: “This was the past, now I’m in the present and future.” He met my mother six weeks after repatriation, married six months later. He never thought he’d have a family, so having one, a GP practice, normal life – he put the war behind him.
But when interviewed for Yorkshire Television 50 years later, he was clearly upset. He’d never forgotten; he just had the rare ability to compartmentalise.
What role did faith and community play in your father’s story? Dad was from a traditional family but wasn’t particularly orthodox himself, yet there was a need for faith. They managed regular Friday night services in different venues. Dad describes how they made do with what they had – they sang the songs and said the prayers they could remember. Eventually a Dutch rabbi came into the prison camp and organised proper services.
The Japanese provided materials for them to build a small synagogue. A suitably decorated curtain hung in front of an imaginary ark (they had no Torah scrolls) and a representation of the tablets of stone containing the 10 Commandments was painted above.
The Japanese seemed to encourage any activities that kept people occupied. The hardest thing was boredom.
Were other cultural activities allowed to flourish?
The academics among the camp created ‘Changi University’ for those with higher education. There were loads of subjects, plus entertainment including plays and musicals with very talented performers. Ronald Searle, later famous for St Trinian’s cartoons, was there and designed scenery. There was even an orchestra – people were encouraged to bring instruments as it was good for morale.
From your research, how does the Far East POW experience compare to Europe?
There’s very little known about the Far East compared to Europe. What people don’t realise is that only 4% of German POW camp prisoners died, but 27% died in Japanese camps – more than one in four.
Most men who died were on the railway. My father, as camp doctor, faced impossible decisions. The Japanese would demand 60 people for railway work, and when he said they weren’t well enough, guards came with bayonets, poking people to get up. Dad knew most would die – they couldn’t survive the work.
Finally, what do you hope readers take from the book?
I think a greater understanding of an aspect of the war people are less familiar with. I’m not suggesting it compares to concentration camps – mass murder doesn’t compare with anything – but the treatment was also unbelievably horrific.
Yet it’s not just about horror. Dad’s good humour comes through – his diary is actually quite funny and optimistic. His personality emerges as an engaging, entertaining companion even in those circumstances. It speaks to the resilience of the human spirit and the power of hope.
A Cool Head in Hell is published by Extraordinary Books and is available now.
