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33: Collision At Bardon On Friday 13th May 1988, I had my first serious derailment. By now I was a regular on the York-Bardons, a job which continued for about 18 months. The start time was 06.00, but to save a taxi fare I would book on by the internal phone at the Moseley Street ground frame in Burton, then catch the 07.19 to Derby. Normally the train was standing waiting for us, the York men having secured it and then caught their train back home. The guard was usually waiting and ready to go. This particular day we left as 7Z35, with engines 20086 and 20009 at the head of 25 empty stone wagons. Arriving at Cliffe Hill, we ran round the train by means of two ground frames. Once on the other end it was off down to Bardon. On the far side of the crossing the guard would drop off to set the points for an empty road, work the ground frame and call me in after I'd drawn the whole train across the points. I'd done it countless times over the previous nine years. The yard was always full of Tarmac tanks and it always looked as if you were about to hit the tanks - until at the last minute your wagons would slot in between them. It was only an optical illusion, but quite an unnerving one. Summer was beginning early it seemed. The sun beat down on the countryside and a heat haze shimmered above the rails. I had changed into the other cab and could see the Derby guard working the frame in the distance. Then he waved his arm from side to side above his head. Taking it to mean, 'All's Well, Come Towards', I whistled an acknowledgement and began to propel the train into the sidings. The usual illusion occurred - making it look like we were about to hit a train of tanks - only this time we actually did! It seemed to happen in slow motion. What I saw turned my stomach. Two of the wagons shot into the air, lurched to the left and down the bank. The buffers clanged together along the length of the train and we stopped dead. I thought I would be shot through the cab window, but after hitting the glass I bounced back into my seat. A full can of hot water shot off the stove and showered the interior. Twenty-odd years of dust appeared from nowhere and billowed around the cab. Though uninjured, I was in shock. The only sound was the sound of the engines ticking over. For a few seconds I just sat looking at the gauges - then I snapped out of it. What about the guard? He'd been standing where one of the wagons had fallen - what if he'd been under them? Leaping down from the cab I ran the length of the train and climbed up over one of the derailed wagons, praying that my weight wouldn't tip it further. To my relief I saw the guard standing amongst the debris. He was drawing hard on a cigarette as he stared at the mangled wreck of what was once the ground frame. He too was in shock. 'I realised what I'd done as soon as you started moving,' he said, 'but it was too late.' He had failed to check what road the points lay for and had called me back straight into the tanks. With twenty five tanks standing there fully loaded and brakes on my empty wagons stood little chance! We walked across to Bardon box to report it. The signalman made us a welcome drink while we awaited the arrival of the trouble-shooters. Before long the vans began to pull up and orange vests seemed to come from every direction. 'The breakdown crane is just leaving Toton,' the bobby informed us. After a couple of hours it was decided that we work our 20s and the good portion of our train back to Coalville, where we had to make out reports. Three wagons had gone down the bank and two more were off the road. Over more tea we were interviewed by an inspector, who appeared satisfied with what we told him. He asked if I felt well enough to take both the engines and the guard back to Derby. I agreed and with my ticket signed I left light engine to Derby 4-shed. The guard was blamed for not checking the points, but a Coalville guard also shared the charge. He had fetched in the tanks during the night, but after uncoupling and securing them he'd failed to set the points for an empty road, as was his duty. By this time Humberstone Road was on its last legs, so we went to learn Derby St Mary's to trip wagons to and from Marcrofts the private wagon repair firm. I went on July 20th, reporting to the Derby TCS that I wanted a lift to the yard if possible. He told me that an engine - Peak 45103 - was going off shortly to fetch tanks from the Sinfin branch. We ran there light, picked up the train and put it into St Mary's. As the Derby driver shunted the tanks away I quickly made notes on the yard - how many dollies, etc - then it was light engine back to 4-shed. I dropped off the Peak at the station - the very last time I would be on a Class 45. They continued to be seen on expresses and indeed on the branch, until all of them (bar 45106 in green livery) were withdrawn on Thursday 4th July. 45106 didn't last long though - she caught fire at St Pancras shortly afterwards. Withdrawn 45s (97s) could be found on many depots, including Leicester. Many would end up in Vic Berry's yard where their power units were lifted out and, after being lifted off their bogies, they were cut in half to be added to the famous stack of Class 25s. The railways as we had known them for so many years were being turned upside down by immense changes. On Tuesday 16th August a note went up stating that all drivers would receive a one-off payment of £200 for accepting the 'trainmen's concept.' This meant that secondmen or driver's assistants would no longer be required on trains or light engines. Driver Only Operation trials had begun in 1986 and were now being imposed. For the drivers it meant an extra £9.00. What better way to drive a wedge between the grades! Some greedy drivers welcomed the payment, even if it meant selling their mates down the river. Old hand guards who had worked with drivers for years now became hostile and would only speak to a driver if it was absolutely necessary to get the job done. But the majority of drivers were saddened about the way that conscientious guards were being treated. Non-passenger DOO was introduced in stages, with the first trials running from Landor Street to Coalville. It then came in on Drakelows. A cabin was put up behind Moira signalbox and redundant guards were used as travelling shunters to load trains at Rawdon and Lounge. In 1988 the grade of guard at Coalville was finished forever. Some stayed on as travelling shunters, some transferred to other depots, while a few left the railways altogether. It was a sad end for a once proud body of men. We drivers were now on our own... |