You Will Never Make a Soldier - the wartime experiences of Don Palmer
Creators: name: Project Team, Their Finest Hour
Publisher: name: University of Oxford
Year: 2024
Subjects: classificationCode: 430304
subject: British history
classificationCode: 430308
subject: European history (excl. British, classical Greek and Roman)
classificationCode: 430316
subject: International history

description: Don enlisted for the 'duration of conflict' at Deepcut Barracks on 17 October 1940, a little over a year after the declaration of war. He was 27 years old, single, still living at home and working at Vye's grocers in Faversham as a storeman. My mother, Margaret Fox also worked at Vye's. She was seventeen and an orphan. I believe that she lived with Don's parents at 23 Cyprus Road Faversham. She joined the WAAF in 1941, married Don on 24th February 1942, left the WAAF in October, gave birth to a daughter who lived just four weeks in April 1943 and spent most of the rest of the war delivering milk.Don enjoyed ballroom dancing and was good at it. Most weekends he would walk to a village hop, take the floor with several young ladies for quicksteps, foxtrots and waltzes and then walk home.He was assigned to the Royal Artillery searchlight section to defend our shores against Hitler's Luftwaffe. He freely admitted that he was a reluctant recruit but was 'willing to do his bit'. He said that one sergeant despaired of his ever making a soldier.I cannot give a chronological account of Don's service: in the early years of the conflict, he was quite near home on the south-east coast. His team were not always accurate in their aim: he said that a chimney on an hotel and part of the roof of Ramsgate station were collateral damage to their destruction of enemy aircraft.When he was in East Kent, he managed to keep a bicycle at his camp and used it to cycle home whenever he could. He said that a vindictive NCO tried to put a stop to this by transferring him further away, or so he thought. However, Don's local knowledge was superior and by using small country lanes he was still able to get back to Faversham, and in less time.Later in the war Don was posted to Cape Wrath on the northern tip of Scotland. He appreciated the highland scenery and always wanted to return, but apart from a family holiday to Edinburgh he did not achieve this.At the last part of his service, he was part of 30th Corps in Germany. He was moved by the devastation of the defeated country and the hardship suffered by the people. His former employers in Faversham, Vyes sent him parcels of tinned food. He gave some of these to hungry and grateful Germans.He was sent on a cookery course and became adept at potato peeling to the extent that during a home leave when my mother asked him to peel some potatoes for a meal, he peeled a large sack full as he thought he was providing enough for a platoon.About this time, in the final months of the war or soon after, my father's parents and his Uncle Fred were invited for Sunday lunch. The guests enjoyed the meal and thanked my mother for her cooking. After they left my parents went down into the basement kitchen to wash up. They were surprised to see the joint of meat still there, waiting to be carved. The meal had been unintentionally meatless. In her desire to impress my mother had forgotten to serve the joint and the guests had been very polite and not mentioned its absence, presumably silently excusing their hostess because of the austere times.His demobilisation did not occur until February 1946. He did not return to Vyes but worked for the Faversham Co-op delivering bread in a horse-drawn van. He worked in all weathers including the severe winter of 1947-8 when he led, or pulled, an ailing horse through ice and snow to deliver bread to the villages around Faversham-to return home to a house with no heating, bathroom or electricity. But he would have agreed that he was more fortunate than many others. I can just remember seeing his 'demob suit' which was black with white pinstripes. He did keep his paybook, dog-tags, kitbag and greatcoat which was used as an extra blanket on my bed in the winter. The kitbag was used as a ragbag for cloth remnants until it disintegrated many years later.