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30: The Branston Crash 1986 Our second exploding Class 20 'slow speed incident' occurred in 1986 as we were loading in Coalfields Farm. The guard was in the second man's seat reading the paper and I was just about to take a bit of my snap when we were interrupted by a loud bang and a shower of sparks. The guard was on the floor within seconds and the cab filled with smoke. I shut down the rogue engine, then we had to secure our train and go back to the shed light engine. It was enough to make us suspicious - was this BR's new way of getting rid of surplus staff? It would probably be cheaper to blow us up than to pay us up! On Monday August 4th 1986 a fellow passed man and myself began our very first week of road learning. The destination was Wellingborough. We sometimes rode on the 6V76 (Cliffe Hill - Hayes), other times we would go down in front of the HSTs. Whilst in Wellingborough yard we decided to look round the old shed buildings. Wellingborough loco (15B) closed in the mid-1980s. Some of the men retired, others went to Bedford. It was just a few years since we had both been in the mess room together. The doorway was blocked with a sheet of corrugated iron, but it was already half off and easy for us to push through. Inside the canteen, we stood amidst the old furniture and gazed around us in silence. 'It's like a time capsule,' said my companion. On one table lay a dusty ASLEF journal; on the next was a chipped mug with dried tea stains inside. Such a deeply sad atmosphere! I couldn't help but think of all the happy railwaymen who'd sat there over the years, eating their grub, reading their papers, playing cards, laughing and joking - just as they still did in our own cabin. The flapping of startled birds in the roof brought us back to the present and we quietly walked out, leaving the ghosts to their card games and cups of tea. The following weekend brought one of many changes that were about to happen in my life. I left home and moved into a little house with my future wife. On October 10th I reached my hundredth driving turn and qualified for a higher rate of pay. Even so, I was still only a relief driver. Much as I enjoyed being out on the main line, shed turns gave me a welcome chance to catch up on the gossip and have a laugh. Unless the men had formed a card school, that is - and then you couldn't get much out of them. When that happened I'd sink into my newspaper or go for a walk. One day all my favourite characters were in and we were having a right laugh. Unfortunately I had to bow out to get an engine ready, but I was so anxious not to miss the crack that I swept, started and prepped it in double-quick time. Racing back I was horrified to find no less than three card schools on the go! There'd be no more laughs from then on, just card talk and matches being moved up a peg-board. In the end, to avoid being left out, I had little choice but to learn how to play myself. One Sunday, while second manning a cable-laying train at Swannington, I witnessed the ongoing bitterness between militant drivers and the guards who worked on coal trains during the miners’ strike. We managed to take our train safely to Wigston – but what an afternoon the three of us endured! Even though I still have strong feelings on these subjects, I’m glad to think that I was not as extreme. A month later I booked on the 05.35 to second man Frank Bailey on a Drakelow job. We'd been together all that week and as usual went light engine to Drakelow to pick up our empties. That week we'd been loading at both Cadley Hill and Rawdon and were destined for either A/B or C station. Once loaded we headed down the branch for A/B. The cab of 58019 smelled like a greasy spoon cafe as Frank cooked sausages and tomatoes. Towards lunchtime we left the power station and ambled up the branch back to Coalville where we were relieved by Derek ‘Mabs’ Marlow. As the end of the week was approaching we decided to have a swift half in the Station Hotel in Burton. After a pleasant hour we parted company and I went home for a nap. Around 5 pm I was awoken by a thumping on the front door. Gathering myself together I looked through the bedroom window to see Andy Clarke, the Derby second man. 'Thank goodness it's not you,' he said when I'd got downstairs and opened the door. 'That's why I came round.' I was till half asleep and couldn't think what on earth he was on about. 'One of your lads has come off the branch at Branston,' he explained. 'He's hit one of our steel trains. It's a right mess down there.' His words brought me instantly to my senses. 'What was the engine number?' I asked as I set about making us both a hot drink. '58019 - she hit the 31 that was hauling our train.' 'Oh no - Mabs Marlow! He relieved us at lunchtime. Is anybody... I mean do you know if anyone...?' Andy quickly sensed what I couldn't get myself to ask. 'No, nobody's dead. They've all gone to hospital, all walking wounded I've heard.' 'Well, that's something.' I knew the guard too - Brian Neal, or Chocolate Soldier as he was known due to his walking like one after a spell in the army! When Andy left I sat down and tried to work out how it might have happened. It kept going round in my head until finally I had to go and look for myself. Accompanied by my wife-to-be I drove to Branston and onto the estate opposite the junction. Emergency vehicles of every kind stood in lines along the lane. Parking some way off we got out into the cold rain and walked towards the sodden field. Suddenly there she was - the engine I'd been driving only six hours earlier. Grasping my girlfriend's hand, I approached the fence. The sight was unbelievable! 58019 was on its side and covered from one end to the other in white foam. I could make out the underside of an HAA coal wagon and lots of other debris. What with the torrential rain, emergency lights and figures in HV vests the whole scene seemed quite eerie. Unsettled by it we decided to leave and walked slowly back to the car. It was the big talking point in the cabin next day and the place buzzed with rumour and speculation. Both our men and the Derby driver had been released from hospital. It was said that Mabs had received a single yellow signal. Our job that Friday morning was to go light engine to Branston to fetch the thirty undamaged wagons and unload them at Drakelow. Again we found ourselves on 58024, an engine which seemed to have formed an unnatural link with 58019. We walked around the scene as 58019 was being righted. Signal sighting was taking place, with some drivers and an inspector riding up and down to check the signal which had temporarily been dismantled while a new relay box was put in place. We eventually left and unloaded the train. We picked up five more wagons to make it the usual 35-set, then by the time we got back we ended up on 12 hours. Over the coming months there were three enquiries before it ended with Mabs being exonerated - but with a verbal warning to be careful in future! We will never know but even now, sixteen years later, he maintains that he received a single yellow signal. A week later I was 07.00 ferry with the comical Barry 'Gassy' Gascoyne. A class 56 was standing at Bedford and needed to be brought back at Coalville. After a taxi to Leicester and a trip down 'on the cushions' we arrived to find 56071 on the depot. We prepared her and set off back to the Midlands with me in the driving seat. I was making good headway when we received a yellow for Kettering South. 'Typical signalmen!' I moaned. 'They would stop us now.' But they weren't just stopping us - they put us into the sidings too. This made even the normally tolerant Gassy grumble. 'We'd better go and see what he wants.' Putting on our orange HV vests we crossed the mainline to the big Kettering South box. 'Come in!' shouted a muffled voice as we reached the top of the steps. Wiping our feet we entered to be greeted by a small balding man, a typical 'bobby', with a woolly jumper, slippers and a duster over one shoulder. Everything in the box shone - the floor, the wood, and the glass of the block instruments. 'What's up bobby?' we asked. 'Sorry to stop you,' he said. 'The driver on the up express has reported a loud bang at Irchester and suspects it could be a fatality. Control wants you to conduct a line search in case there's a body.' The very word gave me the creeps. Body! As the ruling stood, if a body is reported on or close to the track then the line is blocked. Our job was to either move it or mark it with ballast so the emergency services could locate and retrieve it later. 'Alright then, we'll search the line and carry on to Bedford again.' 'Thanks. If you go back to your engine and change ends, I'll pull off for you.' With the signal off we whistled and acknowledged him. But I couldn't help feeling a bit sick inside at the thought of what we might find. 'Barry, what happens if we find one?' 'Well if it's dead we'll go through its pockets of course.' He didn't mean it of course, but his jokey irreverence brought me back to earth. We carried on at caution but - thankfully! - there was nothing gruesome to be seen anywhere along the route. 'He probably hit a swan or something,' said Gassy. On arrival at Bedford we reported that we'd found nothing, then carried on back to Leicester where Control informed us of a change of plan. We were to take our engine back to Beal Street and swap it for 56014, Tinsley's infamous run away loco. Once back at Coalville we filled in a report form. I was most relieved that we hadn't found anything of a gruesome nature. |