Tony Gregory's
Life On The Leicester Line
24: Passing Out Week
The following Monday I was back at Coalville. I'd got used to being at Derby, but I'd missed our home depot and wanted to catch up on all the gossip. We began second-manning again while we awaited our passing out days out with the inspector.
It was late October and the inspector had already had some of our fellow MP12-ers in front of him. The Derby lot went first, then the Leicester men. Both lots passed. Our turn didn't come until mid December. Barry, the most senior of us, went first and got through, as did Dean and Craig soon after. Leaving just me. Word had got back to the LDC they were struggling to get an inspector and there was a possibility I might have to wait until after Christmas. Talk about unfair! The rest were all through and relaxed - but my Christmas would be spoiled by the worry, not to mention a head still choc-a-bloc with rules and regulations and engine data.
But my plight had been noted. One good thing about British Rail is that they tended to sympathise with their staff and if a problem could be sorted they would try their level best. After some juggling around an inspector was made available and he would come over to pass me out on Monday 17th. It made for a nervous weekend, but I was happy that it would soon be over one way or another. Revision became my priority. I made up my mind to spend Friday evening at it, but my resolve didn't hold. Saturday would do instead. But again I failed to knuckle down. If I didn't know it already then I never would. On Sunday night, though, I made a last-ditch effort and checked up on a few bits I was unsure of.
On Monday morning I attempted to enter the mess room quietly, but had to endure a fanfare of leg-pulling. The lads enjoyed seeing someone under pressure - especially as it was me - but all this teasing didn't help at all.
'Who's coming to see you today, Tony?'
'Hey, I've heard he's a real keen 'un.'
'Just mash him a cuppa and you'll be alright.'
I made a beeline for Craig and Dean who were also in there.
'What's he like?' I asked. 'What sort of things does he ask you?'
Before they had time to answer, an authoritative figure with a trilby and brown briefcase strode through the lobby into the TCS's office. I endured another round of teasing from the occupants of the mess room. A short while later the same man came to the door.
'Second man Tony Gregory please.'
I stood up nervously. What made it worse was the way some of the older men started chatting to him, while I just stood staring at the floor and wishing we could get started. In the conference room we settled ourselves down and made small talk about the weather and suchlike. Opening up his briefcase the inspector took out a sheaf of official looking papers and laid them carefully on the table.
'Shall we have a cup of tea before we start, Tony?'
I brewed up for us both, but I'd no sooner taken a sip of my tea when he began his interrogation. I got off to a bad start.
'Right, Tony, you are approaching a single - '
I don't know why he paused just then, and I wish he hadn't, else I wouldn't have said what I did.
'What, you mean a single yellow?'
'A single,' he repeated angrily.
It sounded just the same, but I quickly twigged. It seemed he couldn't pronounce the word signal properly, so it came out as single.
After that the questions came at a steady pace to begin with and were easy enough - but soon they came ever faster and ever more difficult. He was very keen and would not move on until he got an answer. But he was very patient with me and if I genuinely couldn’t answer a question he would approach it from a different angle or give me some clues and then come back to it later. If I tried to bluff him, though, he would stare straight at me, as if he knew what I was up to. Perhaps he enjoyed putting young trainees under pressure. Or was he just doing the job he was paid for, making sure that trainees knew everything they should?
By lunchtime I felt washed out and went to mash up in the cabin. The other chaps were more sympathetic now and I had a quick morale-boosting chat with them before going back to the exam. George had taken a neat pack of sandwiches and began to eat them. I'd brought sandwiches too, but the strain of the day had taken away my appetite. I just sat and sipped my tea and tried to relax.
'Not hungry, Tony?' he said.
'Not really.'
'Oh, that's good,' he said, handing me some sheets of paper. 'You can show me how you would fill a report form in. Then a loco repair book. And then a driver's ticket.'
So while he sat there munching his sandwiches I ended up working through my lunch break. It wasn't that I minded missing my grub, just that I thought I had enough to do already without any extra. But I plodded on through the afternoon answering his questions. At ten to four he glanced at his watch.
'Is that the time already? We'd better pack up for the day - unless you want to do some more?'
I declined politely. He'd only been joking of course and sent me off home to prepare for another day's examination.
The next day was no easier. I had to describe fuel, water and oil systems, run through the electrical system, describe the layout of a Class 47 from the cab instruments to the engine room. We did preps and disposal and other topics. Finally another exhausting day drew to a close. At no time was I given a hint of how well I was doing. All he said was I was to meet up with him at 08.00 next day in the cabin at Derby 4-shed. I left for home, with a terrible headache, so fed up that I almost felt as if it no longer mattered if I passed or failed.
Next day Andy Clarke gave me a lift to Derby on the back of his motorbike. Andy and I had grown up together and he was now a second man at Derby. After a fast and scary ride we turned into Deadman's Lane and through the gates by the watchman's hut. Carrying on down the lane between Etches Park and the loco works, we arrived at the 4-shed booking-on point. I looked at the long lines of withdrawn and cannibalised locos, their blue liveries faded and scratched. Some were almost intact, but others had cabs or panels missing. Some were engine-less, others bore the dents and buckles of collision damage. The rails they stood on were red with rust. Silent and forlorn they awaited their final fate, the cutter's torch.
But there was no time to dwell on such things. Thanking Andy for the lift I went to report to the TCS.
'He'll meet you in the mess room,' he said. 'He's just sorting your trains out.'
I walked round to the cabin. Whatever happened now, at least it was the last day. The hardest part of the ordeal was now behind me. In fact, with the gruelling theory tests out of the way I was quite looking forward to the practicals. Once it was over I could start getting ready for Christmas. Walking into the mess room I got the usual indifferent looks from the Derby clique. Andy sat with a group of mates who were taking the mickey out of an old froggy-looking driver, calling him Baron von Greenback. I'd just started to tell Andy and his mates about the inspector's laughable way of saying 'single' instead of 'signal' when in he walked. I shut up quickly!
'Right, Tony,' said the inspector. 'It's your last day, so let's make a good one shall we?'
'I'll try,' I promised.
'Right then, your first job is a loose-coupled stone train from Chad to Leicester. We'll board it on the goods when it gets here.'
Our train consisted of two Class 20s, a long rake of stone hoppers and a guard's van way back in the rear. The driver opened the cab door for us and offered me the driver's seat.
'Sit down, Tony,' said George. 'Make yourself comfortable.'
The signal came off and George gave me the go-ahead. I released the brakes and eased open the power handle. Not too much or the poor old guard would get a mighty jolt. Rounding the tight curve of the goods road I saw that the junction signal was off for us. Taking care not to exceed the 10 mph limit I eased the controller back whilst looking behind to see that all was well.
Having someone looking over your shoulder all the time makes the job even harder to do, but I would just have to bear it. After a while the inspector took less notice of me and chatted with the driver. I felt better now, but I knew that he still had his eye on me. In those days inspectors were shrewd and conscientious chaps who had come up through the ranks. All they expected from you was that you did your job properly and safely and we had every respect for them.
I felt that I was doing well. But it takes a long time to get from Derby to Leicester with a Class 8 (maximum speed 35 mph!). Passing Trent Junction I started to get overcome by fatigue. The monotonous clickety-clack of the wheels and the early start to my day were taking their toll. My eyelids felt heavy and I fought to stay alert. Why today of all days! By Barrow-on-Soar though I perked up a bit and managed to stay the course until we were relived at Leicester. After thanking the Derby driver we went into the cabin for our break. Then we boarded a 45-hauled express to Nottingham. I drove the Peak without incident.
Our next move was a DMU back to Derby.
'You handled both of those trains very well,' the inspector confided during our journey.
I was pleased by his comments.
'But let's see how you do on a vacuum train,' he went on. 'We've got one for you. It's a daily tripper that leaves Derby St Mary's yard for Toton. It goes into Spondon yard to shunt, but not every day, it just depends.'
I knew of this tripper from the other trainees. He was trying to keep me guessing, but I knew that the others had all gone in and had to do quite a bit of shunting. In fact, I’d been told that it went in to Spondon nine times out of ten, so that's what I expected too.
We walked towards the goods line again to pick up our train, a mixed freight, with a Class 25 pulling coal trucks, tanks, flat, ballast wagons and a brake van. Most were destined for the wagon shops. I checked the driver's slip and waited for the signal. The second man went on to the phone then he and the driver retired to the back cab. The signal came off and the little 25 chugged slowly round the good line curve.
'You're lucky today, Tony,' said the inspector. 'We're not going into Spondon, we're right away.'
The journey went without incident and as we approached Long Eaton he told me to stop at the end of the platform.
'This is as far as we go, Tony.'
He pressed the firebell to alert the crew to relieve us. I gently applied the brakes and stopped neatly at the platform end. The crew took over and after exchanging farewells we watched the train head towards Sheet Stores Junction. The wagons squeaked and clanged their way past us, leaving us in silence broken only by the whistling of birds. The inspector opened his briefcase and began to scribble down notes. My butterflies returned with a vengeance. Not more questions! The inspector never uttered a word. I was sure I had failed and I just couldn't rid myself of the black thoughts. All of a sudden he stabbed at his paper, adding his last full stop with a flourish. Putting the top back on his pen he broke into a smile.
'Well, Tony, we've come to the end of your MP12 examination and I must say that you've done very well. I'm pleased to say that you've reached the required standard. And so we must now make a driver of you.'
With that he held out his hand and shook mine. I could only just stammer out my thanks. It had been a long time since the beginning of May and I could hardly believe what I'd just heard.
'Well, I've done with you now, Tony,' he said. You can toddle off home or do whatever you have to do. Again, well done, and all the best for your future on the railway.'
I thanked him again and we took our leave of each other. I made my way down the slope under the bridge and onto the opposite platform to await my train home. Now that the shock had worn off I wanted to tell everyone my news.
Mum and Dad were overjoyed. They knew how much it meant to me. But I was exhausted by it all. After dinner I went straight to bed and slept like I'd done a week of nights!
A nice relaxing Christmas came and went, thanks to those who'd found that inspector for me so late in the day. On the 29th of January I went for my compulsory medical, but apart from that it all remained quiet and the four of us went back to second-manning.