Much has been said about men and locos. Most of what's been written by so called observers tend to paint a picture which in the art world would be considered a masterpiece, however writing from experience paints somewhat a different one. Life on the footplate has its good times - it also had times that made me ask myself the question "did I really want to pursue a career on the footplate". Needless to say if we had a bad trip, which we did, followed by good trips, then the latter would help erase the memory of the bad trips.
My Job for the week was "2-0 am Controls Orders"; this meant I had to book on with my driver at this unearthly hour and work for the traffic control. It could mean anything and anywhere but with a vengeance. Donning my rather large railway Macintosh, I began peddling against the driving rain, anyone who has been in the same situation knows that within a few minutes the rain finds its way into all the nooks and crannies of your clothing.
'... that's a bad start if we have got to prepare a loco I thought.' |
The twenty minute ride to Tyseley shed convinced me that only people up to no good and footplate crews would be out in such foul weather. Arriving at the booking office "Book me in please" I asked the time keeper. "Is it still raining?" came the reply. Standing in a pool of rainwater that had run off my clothing, I thought a nod to the time-keeper would suffice. I met up with my driver in the cabin and after wishing him a good morning he told me that we had got a job to Gloucester and not to get comfortable. He added that the Forman was sorting us a loco out, that's a bad start if we have got to prepare a loco I thought. The foreman came in and said that 2856 had its boiler washed out. She would have stood in the shed for a week, perhaps a brick arch had been fitted.
One thing was for sure, it would be low in steam, there were no tools on it and it's cab and controls would be filthy. As we climbed into 2856's cab it was as we expected. I cleaned the inside of the cabside so we could hang our coats on. I tested the water gauge frame, which was all in order, no steam was showing on the pressure gauge, but there was a good fire in the fire box piled up under the firehole doors. If you had all the tools and steam pressure you were allowed one hour to prepare a 28xx, needless to say it would take longer tonight.
My first task was to get three oil bottles (cans) a feeder and flare lamp, as my driver could draw some oil out of the stores and make a start oiling round 2856, that was pretty easy. I then had to get all my tools, which usually meant robbing the footplate of other loco's attending in the shed. One by one, I collected all the tools I required and could now make a start at getting my side of the loco ready.
First, I worked the leading and trailing sand levers and armed with a hand-brush and flare lamp, I got off the loco, tapped each sandpipe and noted that a small pile lay on the rail beneath each pipe, this indicated that the pipes were in working order and then I checked that all four sandboxes were full.
'I then got back on to the footplate to start raising steam ...' |
Then up on to the front footplating to open the smokebox door and examine the contents of the smokebox. Care had to be taken when examining all smoke-boxes, but extra care was needed with a "washout" to see that all washout plugs were tight not weeping; all was in order as I swept round the rim of the smokebox and closed the door and tightened it up. I then got back on to the footplate to start raising steam; shed roofs were not noted for their completeness, not least the goods side shed at Tyseley which had several panes of glass missing. Indeed above 2856, two or three were missing resulting in rain having uninterrupted access to our footplate.
I got the long pricker off the tender and dug it gently into the fire; I then closed the firehole doors on to the pricker and started to move the tump of fire carefully over the fire-bars, normally with steam pressure available I would put the blower on which would prevent any smoke and flames blowing back into the cab when you disturb the fire.
Having spread the fire over the bars, I put the pricker back on to the tender and open the damper to allow air up into the ashpan and under the bed of fire, this soon brightens the fire up. I can now start to build the fire up. To do this I threw the lumps of coal on by hand, the reason for doing this way and not shovelling it on was that, if you use a shovel then a certain amount of slack would be thrown on to the bed of fire and would restrict the air coming up through the bars to get through the slack, thus not getting the pile of slack to burn, this method was always used with "soft coal".
It wasn't long before the needle was off the stop on the pressure gauge but it would still take some time before we had enough steam to test the brake and the injectors. Whilst steam pressure was slowly building up, I hunted round for two headlamps and red shades, two were found. I filled them up with paraffin, lit them and put each one on each end of the loco. My driver informed me that the ashpan was full, which was usual with a washout and would need to be cleaned right out before we left the shed. Ideally it would have been better for the firedropper to come down into the shed to clean it, alas we always had to take the loco to them to have this chore done.
'At last we were ready to go off the shed.' |
At last we had enough steam to test both injectors and vacuum brake system; all was in order and the tableman put the turntable right for us, we moved on to it, was turned and went outside to fill the tank. Whilst this was filling, I got the storm sheet off the cab roof and fitted it to the tender brackets. If I had done this inside the shed earlier, it would have been suffocated. After the tank has been filled we moved on to the disposal pit to have the ashpan cleaned; after the usual moans the firedropper came out and emptied the ashpan, watched now by an inpatient fireman as "control" wanted to know where his loco had got to. At last we were ready to go off the shed. Two hours after booking on, we whistled up at the loco box, our signal was pulled off and as we went by the box my mate shouted "North End Spur" where our train was standing was a dead end siding next to the up line at Bordesley South box. We made our way slowly down the goods line, the rain still beating down the storm sheet only keeping some of the wet out of the cab and the footplate. Since booking on, little conversation had taken place between my driver and me; this was normal, there was work to be done and not a lot of time to do it in.
We arrived at the North end spur and backed on to a train of empty cattle wagon from Bristol docks, the shutter hooked us on. The guard told us about the load, a light one and told me to display "D" headmark, this meant that over half the trains brake were piped up to the loco and were operable from the loco's brake, this would enable us to run at higher speeds with enough braking power to stop. We tested the trains Vacuum system for leaks, all was in order as my driver went to make a can of tea.
'My driver returned with the can of tea ...' |
I washed my hands which always made me felt better, the guard went back to his van saying he would see us later. I never wanted to be a guard but I wouldn't have minded riding in his van in wet weather like this. My driver returned with the can of tea, we both had a cup of it and then we were ready. Up to this point our days work had been very miserable, both of us were still wet we took frequent turns with our backs to the fire in order to dry out a little.
At last we had the tip to move out of the siding and run up to the pilot line to Small Heath, here we turned out on to the relief line. I got the tip off from the guard indicating that the train was all complete and after telling my mate, he remarked that it would be the last we see of him until Gloucester!
Once on the move everything was different, spirits perked up, conversation flowed and even though it was still raining hard, 2856's cab plus storm sheet was a cosy affair. With such a light load no hard work was needed on my part and with 2856 steaming okay with the firehole doors open we started to dry out a little - the footplate boards started to dry out so at least we had something dry stand on. Our run to Stratford was unchecked and once over Evesham Road Crossing we headed for the Gloucester countryside not that we would see a lot of it. All we could see were the twinkling signal lamps with their signal boxes showing up well in the wet morning. As we went by Long Marston 'box I noticed the signalman had got his shirt sleeves rolled up, not too much wind and rain getting in there I thought.
'As we approached Toddington's colour light distant it went from yellow to green ...' |
Running up Honeybourne bank, the big three arm bracket signal had both the middle arms showing off this would take us round to the west Junction and up the bank to Broadway. Running passed the West sidings there were a couple of steamy 'Austerities 2-8-0's outside the shunters cabin waiting for their trains to arrive. Other then that, there were not a lot of activity about the place. As we climbed up to Broadway, I looked over into the darkness I could just see one light, perhaps the back door of a house or barn or cattle shed; one thing was sure there weren't any street lamps alight. Broadway came and went, and still the rain tumbled down, one or two more lights visible now, I mused that these were farmers getting up to start the days milking, and hoped he'd remember his Mac! As we approached Toddington's colour light distant it went from yellow to green, the light showing up well in the darkness. We leaned around the curve, passed the retaining wall and through this lifeless station and as we went by the signal box it's keeper kept a watchful eye on our progress from inside the 'box.
Down towards Winchcombe we rattled through here up the slight rise and into the long tunnel. Out of here down the long straight passing the small village of Gretton, some early risers here, my thoughts turned to tea and toast as I imagined those early birds would be having for breakfast. The Bishops Cleeve distant was off and though downhill we needed just a breath of steam going through the cylinders as these wagons being open then the wind got into them it acted as a brake and was inclined to slow you down.
'The racecourse came and went through the small tunnel ...' |
The racecourse came and went through the small tunnel and as we ran on to the viaduct, civilisation was before us, street lamps, cars running about and one or two folk walking the streets. We dropped down the steep bank into Cheltenham Malvern road station and on to the four track section to Gloucester, all quiet tonight. No LMS trains about to try and race, the signal men from Hatherley. Churchdown and Elm Bridge all watching our progress. The signal was off at engine shed junction to take us round to south loop where we would fill the tank and have relief. Our relief came aboard and we all agreed it was a foul morning, my mate told his opposite number about the weights and measures and me telling maybe that there were no problems with 2865 steaming.
We left the footplate and started to walk to Eastgate station to catch the first stopper off there, still the rain came down. After a twenty minute walk we arrived at the Midland station, walked up the platform and got in the coaches that would form our train home. We made ourselves comfortable, we heard and felt the loco back on to the coaches, a few minutes later we pulled out of the station, just before we closed our eyes for a period of meditation my mate said "what'd you know mate its stopped raining."