Kirjahaku

Until a few weeks before the fall of Rangoon, the British had not dreamt the Japanese would invade Burma. So in early 1942, British soldiers trained for desert warfare fought a Japanese Army trained and equipped for the jungle. Those who survived this fierce fighting faced malaria, air attack, and lack of food and water, on the long walk out through the Valley of Death. Ragged groups of soldiers and civilians were forced to trek out of Burma through some of the most inhospitable terrain in the world. They hacked their way through jungle, forded rivers, and climbed steep mountainsides to escape. Many did not survive the journey. Among these incredible stories was that of Bill Williams, who led refugees out on a herd of elephants. Other civilians who had enjoyed an idyllic colonial lifestyle were ill-equipped for the journey. Setting off with the family silver and their pets, they soon had to abandon all but the essentials in order to survive. Thousands died, but many more crossed the border into India and safety.

During the First and Second World Wars thousands of men and women refused the call to arms. Reviled, starved and beaten, theirs was a battle of conscience. In the First World War, seventy-three conscientious objectors died as a result of their treatment, and hundreds more were imprisoned. During the Second World War, many conscientious objectors performed other, non-combatant duties with great heroism, including bomb disposal, and joining the fire service and ambulance crews. Unable to turn a blind eye to the dark realities of war, these men and women, who came from all classes and backgrounds, wrestled with their moral values, and their struggles, motivations and stories are brought together in this moving and challenging history of war’s outcasts.

Devon’s colourful past may still be visible in its street names and pub signs, but in fact much of the region’s history has been obliterated – through necessity, social change and the demands of the outside world. The traditional occupations of farming, fishing, pottery, copper and tin mining, wool production and quarrying have all seen change over the past several hundred years. Many of these industries are now lost, replaced instead by ever-expanding tourism. Although many historic buildings have been preserved and are now protected properties, a large number of houses, ecclesiastical ruins and settlements such as Hope Cove, a coastal village once renowned for its tough fisherwomen, have tragically vanished. The county’s coast is also peppered with ruined pillboxes once manned by the Home Guard to watch for invaders; Devon has played a significant military role in the past, from acting as a mooring place for prison hulks in the Napoleonic wars to being the location of a training camp for spies in the Second World War. Superbly illustrated with photographs, paintings, maps and etchings from the county’s museums and art collections, Lost Devon provides a fascinating insight into Devon’s history, as Felicity Goodall explores what little remains of the past and discusses the events which have formed the county as it is today.

During World War II, Plymouth earned the distinction as the most bombed city outside London. But it was planners not bombers which destroyed most of the history of the city. Few traces remain of the Plymouth's best known sons, Drake and Hawkins. By the 19th century, houses built by Elizabethan merchants had deteriorated into the worst slums in Europe, second only to Warsaw. The population of Plymouth, Devonport and Stonehouse quadrupled between 1800 and 1840, and whole families were forced to live in tiny windowless rooms. In Castle Street there was a pub every ten metres and every pub was said to be a brothel. Damnation Alley, as Castle Street was dubbed, was the haunt of thousands of soldiers and sailors who passed through en route to serve the British Empire. Thanks to the military, the 'Three Towns' earned a reputation as the VD capital of Britain, and the city's women were subject to repressive legislation if they went out at night. Plymouth's lost history includes the first man to sail round the world in both directions; the shocking image which helped end the slave trade; the first convicts bound for Botany Bay; and the man who navigated over 3,000 miles in an open boat with only the stars to guide him.

Trail-blazing journalist Mea Allan was born in a leafy suburb of Glasgow in 1909 and made her name as a tenacious reporter on the grim streets of a city ruled by Peaky Blinders-style gangs, even interviewing members of the IRA. Soon she went south to Fleet Street, where she reported on life on the Home Front, witnessing the worst of the London Blitz – and experiencing it too, as she was bombed out herself. As the war turned in favour of the Allies, she was the first woman accredited to the British Forces as a war correspondent, accompanying them across the Continent, witnessing the liberation of Belsen and the plight of thousands of displaced persons. After the traumas of the war, she immersed herself in village life, became an avid gardener whose works on the subject were immensely popular and finally found love and set up home with photographer Grace Woodbridge, with whom she collaborated on several books. By the time she died in 1982, Mea had 12 non-fiction books to her name, four novels, thousands of yards of newsprint, and a legacy that is begging to be told.