An 80th Anniversary reflection

Eight decades after VE and VJ Day, Valerie Mackenzie-Harris reflects on her late husband Major S.L.M. Harris’ decorated wartime service and her own childhood memory.

By Valerie Mackenzie-Harris

Eighty years ago, on VE Day (8th May 1945) my late husband S.L.M. Harris D.S.O.M.C. a major in the Indian Army was relieved of his post at Chitagong Harbour (then still part of British India). He was told to go ‘home’ to rebuild his country, as “more experienced officers were coming from Europe to defeat the Japanese and stop their westward push. 


My husband had by that date served in the Indian Army since 1932. He was awarded a Military Cross (M.C.) and had spent most of the war since September 1939 in North Africa where he was awarded Distinguished Service Order (D.S.O.) three times. The time before his last posting after a bout of malaria had been in Palestine. He and his sepoys going as far north as Aleppo to supply the Russia convoys from goods delivered to Alexandria.

As ordered, he returned to a civilian job with an international company and stayed until 1965 when forced to retire, Indianisation being given as an excuse. 


In late August / early September 1945 (my memory fails as to the exact date) he and his then wife Kitty were at Calcutta Harbour when the first ships bringing former prisoners from Changi Prison and elsewhere docked. Kitty as a Red Cross worker was much in demand; after they had watched as many soldiers and others, some only skin and bone insisted on marching unaided from the boats. Major Harris was honoured to be allowed to offer assistance where he could.


It was almost thirty years later before my husband was able to tell me about the release of the prisoners of war at Calcutta Harbour

The irony was that early in the war he had been posted to Singapore (some specialist knowledge he had, probably his facility to learn and speak the languages of the East). However a more senior officer (with more influence) decreed his young son to have the ‘safe’ posting. Unfortunately the boy died in Changi at the lands of his captors.

It was almost thirty years later before my husband was able to tell me of these events. Others and some war tales of his army years 1932-1938 had been told earlier and fascinating they were. I was lucky to be able to meet some of the men who had been in India at the same time and with whom he had served with both British and Indian regiments. And quite a number of civilian friends from later years.


I personally have no recollection of V.E. Day, after all, I was only four at the time, however I do remember V.E. Day and our street party: the noise and the number of people all together, probably for the first time in my short life. I was allowed to stay up late – it was dark before I went to bed so I saw the fireworks and we ate uncle Harry’s goose which had terrified me for weeks before.


I do feel it was necessary to remember the 80th Anniversary of V.J. Day and the dreadful methods which had to be used to halt the continuance of the cruel and despotic regime in charge of Japan at the time. I am certain that not one person in Britain or, for that matter anywhere in the world wants to see nuclear bombs used ever again.