Westward Ho!

Christmas Eve at the Front

An interesting letter has just been received by Mrs Packer, of Broadclyst, from her husband, Corpl Packer of A Company, 1st Battalion Devonshire Regiment, who is serving with the Expeditionary Force in Northern France. In the course of a letter he describes a remarkable incident which occurred on Christmas Eve between the British and German trenches.

Following in the steps of his elder brother Rodney, 17 year old Peter Jenkins, of Clonbur, Avon Lane, Westward Ho! sails for Australia in the Otranto on Tuesday under the ‘Big Brother Movement’.

Peter was born in Barnstaple and then the family moved to Kent before returning to North Devon to live at Westward Ho1 eight years ago. After leaving Bideford Secondary Modern School, Peter went on to the North Devon Technical College at Barnstaple where he studied agricultural engineering, which he hopes to apply to his work in Australia.

His brother who went to Australia at the age of 16 four years ago under the same scheme is now sheep farming at Concord, outside Sydney, and he has ‘sold’ Australia to his brother and mother who hopes to go out to join the boys next year.

Gazette article dated 10 December 1954

Kingsley Hall, Westward Ho! is transformed

The Kingsley Hall, Westward Ho! was transformed into an ancient barn for the country fayre held there on Wednesday week by the local Women’s Institute.

The atmosphere was enhanced by the traditional costumes worn by the helpers at the attractive stalls and by country dancing by Anne Thurston’s group.
Refreshments were served under the supervision of Mrs Cole and competitions were won by Mrs Goodall, Mrs Davy, Mrs Richards, Mrs Ware and Mrs Watts.
Nearly £50 was raised for funds.

Westward Ho! Mourns Cheery Personality

With the passing of John Beer, Westward Ho! has lost one of its most interesting and popular personalities.

It was amazing what a wealth of stories he could tell of past events – the old days when the United Services College occupied Kingsley Terrace; the erection of the Pier; the light railway along the cliffs – all these things and a host of others.
But it is less for his knowledge of local history than for his cheery smile of greeting that we shall miss him. I am sure no one could meet and speak to him, as he travelled roads with his bag of letters, without feeling happier for that encounter.
Through the gloomy days when the war news was most depressing; on dark, bitterly cold mornings; or on days when the rain fell unceasingly from a grey-clouded sky, I never knew him to be without a smile and a pleasant greeting. It was better than any tonic to open the door of a morning, and hear his cheery voice as he handed in the letters. Quiet, unassuming, and a friend to everyone, John Beer was one of our blessings, and we shall remember him, as I am sure he would have wished, with warmth at our hearts and a smile.