Not quite, though, because it took another six days for Emperor Hirihito to announce his country's unconditional

surrender.

The end to hostilities meant a lot to Col Abra, now 82, of Barraba, a prisoner of war of the Japanese in Celarang, Barrack Square, one of the infamous Changi prison camp

compounds.

Recalling his wartime years this week, Col, born in Barraba and a citizen of the town and shire for most of his life, has no doubt that if the war had continued for another six months he, and just about all his remaining prison mates, would be dead – from physical mistreatment, exhaustion, malnutrition or

disease.

As a medical orderly, Col was one of 40 8th Division soldiers from Barraba who found themselves in Singapore just before it fell to the Japanese on February 15, 1942.

Indeed, because of its tiny population, Barraba had the unique and tragic distinction of having the highest rate per population of Australian POWs in any theatre of war.

Only two are alive, Col Abra and Tom Cambridge, now of Lithgow.

Mr Cambridge and another World War II veteran from Barraba, Reg Bell, will lead Barraba's Anzac Day march tomorrow.

For health reasons Col cannot take part in tomorrow's march but he'll be there in spirit and wife Joyce will most certainly take part.

Col's hearing is not too good and his memory wanders from time to time, but when he latches on to a question, he is a man of firm opinions.

Asked if he can ever forgive the Japanese for their appalling cruelty, he simply says "no" and adds: "They were all bastards, and the Koreans were worse bastards."

According to Joyce, Col returned home from the war physically well (having been fed good food since war's end) but was "a nerve case".

However the marriage, which took place 10 days after Col's return, worked out brilliantly and she says he "is the kindest man you could meet".

They had two children, Tony, 55, a retired Port Macquarie businessman and Anne (Mrs Fraser), who lives in Brisbane. They have four

grand-daughters and three great-grandchildren.

If Col's physical shape had picked up because of sufficient and wholesome food following his release, it was no surprise because his former 13 stone body had shrunk to about 7 stone when the Allies liberated him.

"And he was a naughty boy," Joyce recalls, "because they (the prisoners) were advised not to eat too much at first, but Col ate 17 eggs in one sitting."

"We were always looking for food," Col recalled and said many of the men and women lost their eyesight because of malnutrition, among other things.

He worked on the infamous Burma railway and remembers a 16-hour day was the norm.

Too many years have passed to dwell on the atrocities of the Japanese guards, but Col remembers lots of little things, like having to fashion medical needles from bamboo.

He was assigned to the cholera ward on the Burma Railway and simply says cholera is a dreadfully debilitating disease.

As for the Allied soldiers, he remembers they all got on well, but didn't have much time for either the Aussie or British officers . . . "all the Pommy officers were bastards and the Aussie officers knew how to look after themselves".

Interestingly, although the death toll among the prisoners was horrific, not one of the Barraba soldiers died while imprisoned.

He remembers one Barraba man, Jimmy Darlington, a part-Aboriginal who was "as tough as nails and wouldn't bow down to anyone".

He "flattened" a Japanese guard one day with one punch but suffered dreadfully from the resulting punishment.

However, he was among those Barraba boys who did return home and was, until his untimely death in a caravan fire, forever regarded not only as a "good bloke but a hero".

For Col Abra, his return to Barraba saw him work on the land as a shearer and sharefarmer among other things, and when the Woodsreef asbestos mine was operating in the early 1970s, he and Joyce built and operated a successful caravan park to cater for the workers.

Joyce has the last word: "We've had a very happy life."