Tony Gregory's
Life On The Leicester Line
22: MP12 – BR’s Driver Training Course
A few days on the Basic Traction course were spent visiting various places to look around a Class 47. Getting out of the classroom for a few hours really helped renew our enthusiasm. On one of these days we went to Stoke-on-Trent to have a look at a 47 that was sitting in the old bay. The instructor was so pleased by our recognition skills that he let us finish the day at lunchtime - a bonus we had to celebrate with a quick pint!
Next came the fun part - the running out. Split into pairs, we were given our own instructors. I counted myself lucky: the instructor, Steve Holmes, and my fellow trainee were both decent. Steve started us off with a pep talk.
‘Right, lads, we’ll work this out between us so as to suit everyone. But I want commitment.’
Opting for days, we next met up in the old 4-Shed messroom. Our first train was the ‘Jolly Fisherman’ holiday special, which ran to Skegness during the summer months. Consisting of about eight coaches hauled by two Class 20s, it started from Burton, ran round at Derby, then stopped at various stations en route for the legendary resort. We worked this train as far as Nottingham, then crossed over the platforms to await ‘The European’, the boat train that ran up the Erewash Valley to Sheffield. Hauled by a Class 47 it was another good train to learn on.
As long as we did our work, Steve was happy to let us do our own thing during our days out. As we had a Manchester run-out coming up someone suggested a visit to the Coronation Street set. This started our Nottingham driver off about the temptations of Bet Lynch’s chest. Steve was furious. Normally easy-going about most things he tore me off a strip for nattering while driving!
At Sheffield we had a quick cuppa and then went out for a Class 45 hauled express to Derby. I loved these locos, so I gave it my all whilst driving them. On other occasions we would work a Derby-Birmingham Peak-hauled service, nip round the flea market, then take another 45 to Sheffield, and yet a third one back down to Derby. My only regret is that although I kept a diary from day one, the pressures of taking my MP12 left me without enough time to keep as detailed a record as I would have liked. Many of the Peak workings remain only in my memory.
I enjoyed express work – it was certainly a change from coal trains! For me the best job was a St Pancras express which left Derby around 07.10 hauled by a double-headed Class 45. One was the booked engine for the train, the other on a test run after being in Derby works for a major overhaul. We only worked this job twice, but on both occasions I felt an immense sense of pride running in to London.
In the capital we'd have a quick snack and then spend a few hours sightseeing. I liked to head for Carnaby Street, but we tended to take turns choosing somewhere to visit. One day Steve wanted to go to a particular area, but as it was the end of the week Dean and I decided to head for home and left Steve to catch a later train. Unfortunately the one he got a cab ride off encountered a suicide near Leicester. As the driver was too upset, Steve had to go back down the track to inspect and mark the body. Suicide is always an awful and messy business and I shudder to think how we’d have felt if we’d been with Steve that day. Luckily we took that earlier train…
Over the years many horror stories have circulated the mess rooms. One often recounted in our area is about the driver who was running into Leicester Midland station. He'd done it hundreds of times before. But instead of the passengers edging forward, picking up their bags and cases, they all started to shrink back. A look of horror filled their faces as they pointed at the front of his engine. Women screamed and fainted at the sight of the decapitated body that hung from the hook on the front.
Another time a poor woman who had been in a mental hospital decided to end it all by jumping off a bridge in front of an oncoming express. Unfortunately she went straight through the middle window of a Class 45 and ended up between the driver and the second man on the floor of the cab.
Some drivers have experienced more than their fair share of horror. One of the nicest drivers at Coalville – sadly no longer with us – had the worst experience anyone could imagine. At Beeston Crossing a small boy trying to retrieve ball got his hand caught between the road and the rail. The result was unbelievably awful to witness. One can't imagine what the driver must have gone through in the weeks and months following. After being off for months he came back and spent a long time working on shed. Eventually he agreed to go back on the main line and was sent on a refresher course to re-learn the routes. But then, unbelievably, he had another suicide – a man who looked the train crew straight in the eyes before he jumped.
That was it – it was too much for any man to bear – and the poor chap lasted only a short while longer on the railways after that.
We lost three good blokes that year whilst I was away on MP12. The irony is that someone had said ‘I wonder if anything will happen while we’re away.’
The first loss was Gordon Edwards, a good old boy who'd always keep you entertained with a tale or two. Apparently Gordon had just finished a week’s conversion course on Class 58s. He had been passed out on the Friday before, then fell asleep in his armchair and never woke.
The other two deaths were just a coincidence. One was a good mate of mine, Nick Glover, a popular character who had just passed his MP12 and was doing conversions. On the Friday morning Dean had told us that Nick had been taken ill. We had no reason to think it was anything other than flu or a bad back or something. But after the weekend he came into the 4-shed messroom with terrible news: Nick had passed away. We were stunned us into silence. A few Derby men lowered their voices and spoke in a low murmur. It was upsetting to think that a young man with so much to live for had been taken from us so quickly.
The other was ex Burton driver Jack Manley. Jack had died in the place where he'd spent his working life - on the railway. On an engine, in fact, on the shed. Jack and his mate were on night shed duties. They only had a couple of locos to get ready and agreed to do one each. After finishing his around 2.30 Nigel walked over to the shed side where Jack was preparing a Class 56.
'I've done that one, Jack,' he shouted up to the cab of the 56. 'I'll go and mash.'
'Good idea,' Jack called back. 'I'll be in as soon as I've done this.'
With that Nigel went off to the cabin. As he waited he chatted with the other blokes while he waited for Jack to come in. But Jack was taking ages. Nigel went back to the Class 56 to see what was keeping him. There was no answer to his shout, so he climbed up and opened the door. Something was wedged against it. Increasingly unnerved, Nigel went round to the other side and climbed in that way. There on the floor lay Jack. Nigel called his name, but there was no answer. Panicking now he ran back to the cabin to fetch help. But unfortunately it was too late.
The biggest coincidence was that Nick and Jack were renowned for their dislike of each other and many stories were told about their various spats. Though he had his good points, Jack was a hard man to get on with. Embittered by being permanently on shed due to illness, seeing young lads like Nick passing out for main line work was hard for him to bear. Nick was a young chap who lived life to the full and enjoyed his beer and motorbikes. He wouldn't suffer fools gladly and would never bow and scrape to those awkward older drivers like Jack.