The starting point of a novel is often full of surprises. Out of Burma, though one of my most successful, is case in point. I originally had in mind a short story about Vera Lynn – yes, that superb lady – when she travelled to Burma to entertain the troops (a trip that half-killed her). Knowing almost nothing about the subject I read Julian Thompson's book Forgotten voices of Burma, which records testimony about the war from all ranks.
There were three entries by a military wife, Mrs Margaret Bootland, about her hair-raising escape from Mandalay into India, and the moment I set eyes on these it became clear what should be written – not a short story, but a novel on that same theme.
The clinching factor was the extraordinary situation in which half a million members of the unpopular Indian community in Burma, deprived of protection as the British army retreated, upped sticks and tried to walk a thousand miles through desperate terrain into India.
I'm surprised this amazing story has not been picked up by the film industry. And also surprised that few of today's observers have drawn comparisons with the flight of Burma's Rohinga communities into Bangladesh.
There were three entries by a military wife, Mrs Margaret Bootland, about her hair-raising escape from Mandalay into India, and the moment I set eyes on these it became clear what should be written – not a short story, but a novel on that same theme.
The clinching factor was the extraordinary situation in which half a million members of the unpopular Indian community in Burma, deprived of protection as the British army retreated, upped sticks and tried to walk a thousand miles through desperate terrain into India.
I'm surprised this amazing story has not been picked up by the film industry. And also surprised that few of today's observers have drawn comparisons with the flight of Burma's Rohinga communities into Bangladesh.