大象传媒

Let me first tell you about my Dad.
John Thomas Wiggin was born on 20th November 1908 in Pelsall Staffordshire England. His education was not out of the ordinary and on leaving school at the age 13 years he immidiately became a coal miner. At the onset of World War 2 he volunteered to join the ROYAL ENGINEERS and was quickly promoted to FULL SERGEANT. In the November of 1939 he was posted to France with the British Expeditionary Forces. In May and June 1940 the great escape from the Dunkirk beaches was being carried out, and Sgt. Wiggin now a section leader was leading his men from Envronville in northern France to Port St, Valery where they would be lifted and taken back home.
It was at Envronville that a fierce but short engagement with the enemy resulted in Sgt. Wiggin being killed and the rest of his section was captured and survived to the end of the war.
Now let me tell you about my Mum.
It was in the June of 1940 that Lucy Wiggin my Mum was informed that her husband had been Killed In Action. She had to go out to work to ensure that her children were taken care of, and had food and were clothed.
She was taken to work by coach at 6-30am and didn't return untill 7-00pm.
Like many other women she was on "War Work" making petrol "DROP TANKS" for aircraft.
There are so many incidents that happend during those uncertain years I could write a book.
For instance.In 1943 I was 9 my brother was 11 and my sister was 6. There was no one to look after us whils't Mom went to work and we took care of each other.
I can remember vividly on one occasion when we were very hungry. There was nothing to eat, not even any bread.I searched the Pantry and saw a crust of bread lying on the floor. It was green with mould. After scraping off the mould I tried to toast it on what little fire we had, this meant blowing into the ashes to redden up the embers. Needless to say the crust of bread wasn't toasted it was smoked, but we shared it and and it tasted delicious.
On another occasion I built up a bike from the local rubbish dump, no brakes,no lights and no tubes or tyres. With my new mode of transport I took orders from the near nieghbourhood for fish and chips which I would then pedal like mad to the local chippy to fulfill the orders. Then pedal frantically back and deliver the orders before they got cold.
On one fateful night going with my orders I was stopped by a Police Sargeant and after he examined my bike, he gave me a summons to appear at the local courts.It was 1944 and I was 10.
I was fined a total of 10 shillings and this was about two months earnings in my "chip delivery business" and I had to finish what was becoming a helpful earner for my Mum.
To make an extra pound in her purse she decided to take in boarders, and over the years two of these boarders died in her home and another commited suicide. Needless to say she didn't take in any more boarders, so again she went out to work.
In the evenings we enjoyed listening to the wireless with favorite programms like, ITMA,Dick Barton,Paul Temple,The Happydrome,Charlie Chester and the music of Victor Silvester.If, as sometimes happens,the accumulater went flat Mum would relate her experiences when she was in Service. The stories were very funny and sometimes sad. Because the war years were very difficult, our family were very close and as young children tried to help Mum in any way that we could. My Brother and I would run errands to earn a little extra money which didn't ammount to more than 6 pence a week.
Christmas time was extra hard for Mum as she couldn't afford to buy us any presents.
Later when I was 10 in 1944 I became a paper boy and was earning a massive 2 shilling and six pence a week. My brother seeing what could be earned became a paper boy also and had the round that continued where mine finnished.
So what we did was to start my round together and carry on untill we finnished at the end of his.
We hardly stopped running for the total time of the two rounds. That meant an extra 5 shillings a week for Mom. Suddenly we all started to get Christmas presents and birthday presents.
During air raids we went to the local shelter and as much as my brother and me protested Mom wouldn't let us view the "Cat and Dog" fights that were being fought in the skys above us.
In those days life was truly hard and I hope that my children or my grandchildren never experience the hardships.

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