I SUPPOSE it was inevitable that the devastation in South East Asia should remind me of my wartime sojourn in Sri Lanka where many places currently in the news are well known to me.

In those days, the official name was Ceylon, but to those of us who took the trouble to learn a little of the local lingo it was always "Sri Lanka "or "the island".

It was a paradise island then, for those who had the time and leisure to take advantage, but it was also the bustling base of the Briitish East Indies and Pacific Fleets.

In retrospect, it seems hard to imagine there were no less than four Royal Navy hospitals, two in Colombo, one in Trincomalee and another high in the hills at Diyatalawa.

In addition, there were numerous shore bases, each with its own medical facilities. Interchanging of medical personnel ensured that most of us came to know all parts of the island well and to integrate with the local population.

Among the friends I made I can number Sinhalese, Tamils and Burghers, lovely people, all of them but how strange they could never agree among themselves. Here we often lived in commandeered bungalows into which 30 or more of us were crammed.

Yes, we had our periods of leave and relaxation, but the hours were long and hard.

I recollect we derived much off-duty pleasure from an old handwound gramophone. Our stock of records contained two particular favourites, the Max Bruch Violin Concerto and the Bach Concerto for Two Violins.

Nowadays, I can never hear either piece without being immediately transported back to our tropical paradise.

JOHN HINTON,

Worcester.