'Peace on earth,' proclaimed the Daily Express... the Second World War was over

Late on August 14, 1945, Clement Attlee, who had just replaced inspirational wartime leader Winston Churchill as Prime Minister, announced on the radio: "Japan has today surrendered. The last of our enemies is laid low." Schoolboy Stanley Jones was immediately roused from sleep by his father who told him: "It's all over."

"I rolled over and went to sleep - I could not remember a more peaceful night. No more fighting, interrupted nights, bombs. Peace had come," he recalled. This is just one of a remarkable 47,000 memories collected by the BBC 20 years ago for the 60th anniversary of the end of the war, a huge war archive called The People's War, which I have now curated into a book. It is not an archive written by generals or politicians but by ordinary British men and women, a street level view of the war.

It is raw, vivid, funny, and very human. On August 15, the nation woke up to a Daily Express headline proclaiming Peace on Earth. By the evening joyful parties were in full flow across the country.

John Wilkins, 17, a trainee Air Mechanic, headed into Manchester's city centre, where, he recalled: "We discovered a vast crowd celebrating... a public address system was broadcasting the popular tunes of the day and people were singing and dancing... leaving a pub we were embraced by countless women and one old lady grabbed me and kissed me saying, 'God Bless all you lovely boys'."

In London, tens of thousands crowded into the West End to celebrate as they had done on VE Day three months earlier on May 8. As before, the Royal Family would appear on the Buckingham Palace balcony.

"We were with the crowds that squeezed through Admiralty Arch and swept down The Mall to see George VI and the Royal Family come out onto the palace balcony to wave and be cheered by thousands below," recalled one anonymous contributor, whose memories were collected by Braintree Library. "There were still shortages and difficulties ahead, but VJ Day marked a turning point and the hope of a better future."

Some celebrations featured fancy dress competitions. Rose Stokoe noted: "Our Harry, with his wavy blond hair and good looks, was decked out in Mam's best pink frock, high heels and stockings, a slap of lipstick and rouge, jaunty hat and a bunch of flowers. He made a bonnie GI bride with sailor Andy as his reluctant groom." Not all the celebrations were as raucous.

Grace Potts was an 11-year-old Girl Guide from Wakefield. Her troop was camping in the Yorkshire Dales on VJ Day. On the hill above the camp a huge bonfire was built. "We Guides and others climbed up in the dark, each with a candle burning in a jam jar," she remembered. "It was said the procession could be seen for miles. At midnight the giant fire was lit. When it was all over, we returned to our tents, there was hot cocoa waiting for us."

News of VJ Day brought relief to those troops poised to enter the fray against Japan. Kenneth Wiltshire was an ordinary signalman on the Royal Navy cruiser HMS Belfast, now a floating museum on the River Thames, as it entered Fremantle, Western Australia. The Imperial War Museum holds his diary.

He wrote: "The message came through that the Japanese war had ended and peace once again reigned all over the world... whoopee, yahoo !!!!!!!!' So now the job is done and no more killing and fighting anymore - seems impossible!!! Everyone is going mad in the messes here, dancing, singing, shouting etc. It's grand, simply grand, terrific !!!!!! Unbelievable !!!!!!! As we sailed up the river into Fremantle, ships (hundreds of them) blew their sirens like billy-o and hoisted flags everywhere possible, fireworks whizzed overhead, and bands began to play. Boy, what a noise!!!!"

For British forces keeping Europe safe, VJ Day was unrestrained, even though they were still on duty. Basil Armes was on a Royal Naval mine-sweeping patrol at Bremerhaven in Germany.

"There was handshaking and drinking all round and within minutes the port was alive with the sound of ships' whistles..." he recalled. "About half an hour later searchlights illuminated the sky with huge beams and anti-aircraft gunners were firing star shells in the air... the Skipper told the coxswain to break open a gallon of rum and the celebrations continued... but there was still a lot of work to do and the next day we were out mine sweeping again." In Burma, Britain's longest land war, British troops had sensed that the tide had turned for some time, especially when Vera Lynn was flown out to entertain them. She wouldn't have come this far to sing in the steamy heat if peace was not close?

"She tried to leave the stage, but the men were clapping and cheering. She sang three more songs but still they went on cheering," recalled Fred Weedman of the Worcestershire Regiment. "She started to sing again but whenever she tried to stop, they yelled the name of another tune. She sang until her make-up was running in dark furrows down her cheeks, until her dress was wet with sweat, until her voice had become a croak."

Nowhere were the celebrations more enthusiastic than in the US, which had borne the heaviest burden in the savage war against Japan. In New York, Times Square hosted the largest crowd in its history. Life magazine reported a "coast to coast frenzy of kissing". In San Francisco the celebrations turned into a drunken riot with widespread looting and violence - leaving 13 dead and many more injured.

It was Emperor Hirohito himself who announced Japan's surrender on the radio to his people. It was an extraordinary event; the Emperor was a godlike figure who did not speak in public, let alone on the radio. Michael Charnaud and his mother were prisoners in Fukushima, Japan. On August 15, they mysteriously heard the Japanese national anthem on the radio, followed by a solemn voice. He recalled: "I just knew it was Emperor Hirohito... we knelt down and looked through the large keyhole of the Camp Commandant's office... we saw the guards, the interpreters, and the kitchen maids filing out, each of them in tears.

"I shall never forget their red eyes and genuine tears streaming down their faces, and their obvious distress."

That night two boiled potatoes were added to their meagre bread ration. It was a clear sign the war was over. "We were at last free people again, with our rights, our dignity, respected and restored. There was kissing, handshaking, laughter and tears...it is over but what an ordeal. What an effort to keep alive, not to give in, and what a fight for your life."

Despite the surrender, Japanese guards still controlled many prisoner of war camps. How could anyone feel completely safe with the enemy still in control?

In her remote camp in Sumatra, British nurse Phyllis Briggs was not even told about Japan's surrender until nine days later. Her VJ Day was late - but she had more reason to celebrate than anyone partying on the streets of British cities. "Rations increased and included things we had not seen for years - powdered milk, tinned butter - even lipsticks! The Japs obviously wanted us to look in better shape by the time we were freed...we tasted bread for the first time for three and a half years."

Of the 15 women in Phyllis's first prison hut, ten had died in captivity. Soon American aircraft were seen flying over Japanese camps, including Fukushima where Michael Charnaud and his mother were interned.

"They parachuted food supplies packed into oil drums into the muddy paddy fields opposite..." he recalled. "The canned food was eagerly shared around, breaking at long last our three years of perpetual hunger... often there would be a crew member standing by the open side door waving to us with a thumbs up sign. Among the tinned peaches, spam, chocolate etc were friendly notes from them."

For a moment on VJ Day it was as if the world had stopped, that someone had pressed a pause button. When the bonfires burned out and the bunting was put away, joy was replaced by uncertainty. Where does this newly reshaped world go from here and what is my place in it?

Typist Eunice Edwards in Birmingham summed the future up when she told the BBC: "No one could go back to 1939. Everything had changed... it was new beginnings for all of us."

And few understood on VJ Day that the tiny seeds of change - the Cold War, the end of the British Empire, the expectations of women, the Welfare State, Civil Rights in America - had been planted in the bitter war they had just fought.

• John Willis is author of The People's War (BBC Books, £25) and Nagasaki:The Forgotten Prisoners (Mensch, £16)