Welcome to the History Extra podcast, fascinating historical conversations from the makers of BBC History Magazine.

A Polish priest who was murdered in Auschwitz, a survivor of the Nagasaki Atom bomb who campaigned against nuclear war, and a Japanese school

teacher who sent cherry trees as peace offerings around the world. The stories of these three

remarkable men form the basis of a new book by the journalist and author Naoko Abbe, and she

spoke to Rob Atar about how hope can emerge from the most terrible suffering.

So, Naoko, could we please first talk about the origins of this book?

What drew you to tell the stories of these three men together?

Okay, well, my last book was about cherry blossoms and an Englishman who saved Japan's

blossoms. And I was interviewing, as part of the book, I was interviewing this cherry man

in Japan in Hokkaido. I got very interested in his life and what he was doing through

blossoms. He was sending blossoms to

overseas countries and as peace offerings. So I was actually going to write a biography of him in

Japanese. But then his story expanded to the world, which means that one of the interviews, I flew to

Hokkaido quite a few times from London.

And he mentioned that he had sent hundreds of cherries to Poland.

And I said, why Poland?

Because he had been telling me that he's been sending cherries to the countries that Japan, as a country, during the war, inflicted sufferings upon.

To countries such as China, Korea, or Southeast Asian countries, or including the UK, you know, in terms of what the Japanese had done to the prisoners of war from the UK and some from other allied countries.

So I said, why Poland?

And then he started talking about how he had met this incredible priest who was murdered at Auschwitz.

And he believed this was wrong, but he believed that some of his offerings of cherry trees ended up in Auschwitz so I got very interested in the

story but he said oh this happened 40 years ago and everybody's dead you know he mr ass, Mr. Assari is 93 years old now. And so

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