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36: First & Last Into Bagworth Bunker 1989 marked the centenary year for the Institute Of Mining Engineers, an anniversary which would be marked by the South Midlands Rail Tour. On Sunday 10th December they would be visiting locations along the Leicester Line, and so at 09.40 we took a taxi to Branston to await the rail tour. After a half hour delay a seven-car DMU turned up and we boarded it to conduct Saltley men across the branch. Our first stop was Rawdon Colliery, where we went through the bunker and stopped ten feet off the stop block. It was a move that seemed to displease the hard-core enthusiasts and they sent up one of the organisers to have a word with us. 'They've all paid good money,' he explained, 'so they want to complete the entire line.' 'We can't go any further - there's a stop block!' 'Yes, I know - but they just want you to touch the block with your buffers.' We could hardly believe they could be so fanatical, but we shrugged and obliged the enthusiasts by literally taking it to the limit. By-passing Lounge we made our way to Coalville. As we passed the depot all the enthusiasts rushed to one side of the DMU. ‘It’s a wonder we don’t topple over with all that weight on one side,’ I remarked to the Saltley men. After Coalfields Farm we passed Bardon Hill and the now-closed Cliffe Hill Sidings. We went down the Stud Farm branch and into the now-closed Bagworth bunker sidings. The concrete bunker stood forlornly as it hadn't been used for a while and a locked spiked gate barred all entry. But British Coal had booked someone to let us through and once he’d unlocked the gates he climbed aboard the train with us. 'Enjoy it while you can,' he said. 'You're on the very last train to Bagworth bunker. They're going to demolish it any day now.' His words made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I remembered something very important to me and couldn’t help but tell the other train crew about it. 'Well, my claim to fame is that I was on the very first train to Bagworth bunker - and now I'm on the very last.' As I spoke I became aware of an audience of eavesdroppers. They gave me a 'tell us more' glance, so I filled in the details for them. 'Yes, I was on the very first test train here in 1979. My mate was Derek Marlow and the guard was Cyril Blanchard. We were accompanied by a Derby inspector.' The enthusiasts nodded approvingly at my tale. After touching the stopblock with the buffers we set back through the bunker. As the British Coal man climbed off to relock the gates I was touched by sadness, remembering all the blokes I'd worked with at this location over the years. Once behind the signal at Bagworth Junction we went full speed ahead down the single line to Knighton. Fog came down suddenly, blanketing the fields, and then they too were obscured as dusk turned to night. The job had been different to what I was used to and I’d thoroughly enjoyed both the novelty - and the nostalgia. The Saltley guard had one of the new mobile phones, so we asked if we could call the Leicester TCS to book a taxi from Knighton. We got off there and said goodbye to everyone. Our taxi failed to turn up, so we ended up cadging a lift to Leicester station in an S & T van, before eventually getting another cab back to Coalville. 1990 was probably one of the most changeable years I've ever gone through. I got married, had my first trip abroad and welcomed our first child. The year also had some less pleasant surprises, though at that stage they could hardly be guessed at... Like most Coalville men I felt settled, more than happy with my lot. We had our bad days, but they were always outnumbered by pleasant ones. At least we had the comfort of knowing that Coalville was a category A depot, which meant it was one of the least likely to close. What did we have to worry about? On January 9th, working a Coalfields Farm - Drakelow C, I was stopped at DY126 signal in Derby. The signalman in the power box told me that the bobby in Moira West box had observed badly smoking bogies on engine 20108. By the time I’d got to Derby they were glowing red hot! Leicester fitters were called out to readjust the brakes, which had been badly adjusted previously so that they were binding. On the 15th January - the 11th anniversary of my first day on the railways - I took off for Gran Canaria. The holiday would have been superb, had it not been for me nearly drowning on a jet ski and being attacked by an octopus. The constant hassle of timeshare salespeople hardly did much for the holiday feelgood factor either! Saturday 24th February was my wedding day, when I was due to get hitched to Lorraine, my girlfriend of seven years. But things weren’t going to plan. My lift to the registry office didn't materialise, so I had to walk. On my way to the Town Hall I came across ex-Burton driver Ray Large working on his car. 'Oh, look at you!’ he exclaimed. ‘You off to a wedding?' 'Yes - my own.' 'What do you reckon to this,' he said, pointing at his car. 'It keeps misfiring.' 'Er, is it the distributor? It could be cracked. I didn’t really know what I was talking about, I was just anxious to fob him off and get going. The minutes were ticking by and zero hour approaching. But he wasn’t going to let me go that easily. 'It can't be,' he said. 'It's not that old. Look at this wire, do you think that could be something to do with it?' Against my better judgement I leaned under the bonnet. My best tie fell into the oil around his rocker box. I looked at my watch again: eight minutes to go! 'Look, I can't stop, Ray - I'm getting married in a few minutes.' 'Are you? Better get going then, hadn't you?' I arrived at the Town Hall just on time and went straight in. As we were saying our vows some loud-mouthed individual came in to enquire about a future wedding. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse Lorraine's dad's car packed up so we had to go to the reception by bus! Luckily we all managed to see the funny side of it and the rest of the day went smoothly. The following week I was on an afternoon Rawdon-Drakelow. Booking on at 13.37 I went light engine to Rawdon on 56005 and loaded the train. Signalmen had now been ordered not to pull off for trains to leave a colliery until the booked time. Mine was 16.35, so by the time I’d finishing loading I still had an hour and a half to kill. Norman, the Moira signalman, apologised for keeping me, so I went off for a chat with the shunter in his cabin. We were interrupted by a knock on the door and opened it to find two chaps, one with a large and expensive camera, the other with some equally flashy sound equipment. 'Can you tell us what time that train will leave please?' 'I'd go now if I could,' I told them. 'But times are being monitored.' They decided to wait, so we asked them to take a seat and mashed a pot of tea in preparation for a chat. Eventually the time arrived for me to get the engine started. 'Thanks for the tea,' the two men said. 'We'll go and pick a good spot to film you from.' They headed for the old Swains Park sidings and I went to start the loco up. But the weather began to change and a huge black cloud drifted over us from the west. Surely they wouldn't bother now, I thought. As the signalman gave me the tip to leave the heavens opened and let loose a torrential downpour. Approached the entrance dolly I caught sight of the poor devils, totally drenched but still filming. Some time later I came across a video depicting their efforts, so if you want to see a wet 56005 leaving Rawdon with both windscreen wipers on full belt the video is Railfreight 90, Vol 2. A week later we began to conduct Toton men into Drakelow but had to first run around at Coalville due to both of Drakelow’s east and west roads being relaid. It was a good week for me as I only lived a hundred yards from the Leicester Junction signal where we were booked to relieve them. Most of the Toton lads were fine but there were some not so nice ones who came out with lots of snide remarks. 'We could work this branch from Toton,' one said. Perhaps they were right. No one could quite put their finger on it, but change hung uneasily in the air. Coalville didn't seem like the depot it had been just a short while before. Every week brought some unwelcome change to our familiar world. On Monday 19th March they pulled down the large goods shed and stores and on the same day the Bardon Hill tanks finished for good. But there was one change that I welcomed! On Monday 26th my wife gave birth to our first child - James Anthony Gregory - and concerns for our future were temporarily forgotten. On Sunday 8th April the whole depot went on a firefighting course at Toton. Half attended it in the morning, while I went in the afternoon lot. Inter-depot rivalry was always expected on such occasions, but some of Toton's younger element started goading us about our depot closing and how they would gain work it. Not exactly tactful! A couple of our Coalville contingent took it very seriously and it almost turned nasty before both sides calmed themselves down. |