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28: First Incident The 19th June 1985 was destined to be a gloriously hot summer's day. I was at peace with the world as I strolled to my loco for the day - 58024. As I put in the battery and lighting switches I looked upwards to listen to a skylark as it whistled in the skies above. The sun quickly warmed my face. I'd booked on at 08.50, enjoyed the company in the mess room and sipped at a cuppa until my booked time off shed. 'I'll meet you over there, Tony,' said the guard. Now young and keen I sounded the horn and slowly made my way to the departure dolly to bell out. It was already my eighth driving turn. As I waited for the signalman to answer the phone I looked back at the engine shining in the sun. Suddenly a negative thought came into my mind. Now I was driving nearly every day, my chances of having an accident or derailment were greatly increased. Ten minutes later I was off the road! I'd done everything by the book - changed ends at the right place and awaited the chargeman's signal to allow me into the yard. 'The road's set for you Tony to drop onto your train,' said chargeman Ivor Haskett. Stopping a little over six feet off the wagons, as was the ruling, I went to ease the engine up to the wagons. Suddenly there was a loud bang beneath the loco. In those vital seconds inexperience told me to take no action until I had buffered up. Once that was done I jumped down to check both bogies. Ivor and another shunter came running. 'We heard the bang - what the heck was it?' We checked the wheels, but all were firmly on the road. Looking closer we realised what had happened: the road itself had spread and the first bogie had been derailed. Had I braked on hearing the bang we'd have stopped off the road, but by letting her go that little bit more she had re-railed herself again. The signs were obvious - broken sleepers and chairs lay scattered in abundance. After informing the TCS and promising to fill in a report later, I was given the next train on the up in order to carry on with my shift. That loco was 58019, which was fated to suffer a much worse derailment in the not-too-distant future. 58024 was trapped on her train all day as the platelayers worked in the overbearing heat to get her free. The rest of the day passed uneventfully and as I got relieved on the boards the gangers had about finished their work. The next day, when Ivor Haskett came into the cabin and saw me he started to laugh. 'That was strange, you dropping off the road like that and then re-railing. But you wouldn't be the first. A steam loco did the same thing many years ago, and not far from where you came off either.' My tally of driving turns increased week by week and I ended the year with thirty three to my credit. By January 1986 the Midlands was blighted by heavy snow showers and severe frosts. On the night of the 7th I was 20.10 spare. I'd managed to get through from Burton but many of the lorry drivers using the A50 had got stuck in deep snowdrifts. Some were almost covered! The railways fared no better: nothing could get on or off shed due to the points clogging up. With the P-way gangs busy elsewhere, those of us who'd made it to work got ourselves wrapped up and set to work with shovels. We got one or two cars out for men who were trying to get home, and then we attempted to clear the points so that locos were able to come onto the shed. The weather was getting worse. Our TCS said that anyone with a distance to go should set off for home while the roads were still passable. I left at 22.15. After several turnarounds and diversions I finally made it. The next day was not so bad. Though there was still plenty of snow on the ground, the snow wasn't falling so heavily. I booked on at 18.00 and was given a driving turn straightaway - Coalfields Farm to Drakelow C station. The guard was also from Burton, the son of an old teacher of mine. Steve had spectacles were like the bottom of milk bottles and even with them on he seemed to have difficulty seeing much. We all pulled his leg about it, but he didn't mind too much. At Coalfields we loaded the train. It was dark and bitterly cold with a sharp frost threatening. Whilst running round I dropped Steve at the Hugglescote frame, then carried on over the points. He would then work the frame for me to proceed onto the other end of the train. I acknowledged his white light with a toot and went forwards. As I passed the frame he stepped down to watch me over - then all of a sudden his Bardic lamp flew into the air and a spread-eagled figure disappeared down the steep bank, arms and legs flailing. I stopping the Class 20s and ran back towards him. Shining my Bardic in his general direction I saw a black mass in a railway greatcoat rolling about in a thick snowdrift. He had slipped and rolled down, losing his hat and glasses on the way. Every time he tried to climb back up he just slipped back down. Eventually he got high enough to grab my hand and I pulled him up. I was laughing so much so that I nearly went tumbling down on top of him. He managed to retrieve his lost items and I dusted the snow off him. We weren't destined to have much luck that day. As we reached Drakelow the speed module blew up while we were unloading, so we backed the train onto the middle road and went back light engine to Coalville. |