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I can't see that happening nowadays, it would be all over social websites (i.e Facebook, twitter, You Tube etc) in a matter of minutes and by time it's your morning tea break, the Head Office would get a wind of this and all hell would break loose!
May 1973, I was 19 years old and had just transfered to Gillingham as a second man (cleaner) from my job as a porter at Sittingbourne station. It was a very early 03:10am start. I'm going to have my very first ride in the class 73 - running light loco to sittingbourne to meet the paper train and take off the end wagon for unloading. My drivers' name is Terry.
So here we are barreling down the track somewhere between Newington and Sittingbourne and we are doing bang on 90mph (yes I know, these days they are restricted to 60mph). Terry tells me "Put your foot on that button there and keep it down. Don't touch anything else. I'm just going into the engine room to look at something"
Now remember it's still only around 03:30am and it's very dark inside and out. Those of you familiar with the layout of the class 73 will know that it's possible to enter the engine room and close the door and look through the small glass window back into the cab. This is just what Terry is doing and watching me all the time - but of course I didn't know that.
Now we approach a yellow signal, and I'm already aware that the next one will be red, so I call out to Terry. No answer. Call louder. No answer. Start shouting and starting to panic now. Hands are dancing over the controls...... "which one is the brake? ---- no, Terry said not to touch anything" "TERRY!!!!" Just when I decide to hell with it, I think this one is the brake, Terry pops back into the cab laughing his head off - me I'm almost crapping myself. All is well of course, so I guess you could call that my 'Initiation' into the job.
Can't be sure of the year, but I'm still a second man so pre '76. Me and driver Colin are taking some mixed freight to Faversham. The train is only partially fitted (brakes only fitted on about half the train) and it's a class 33 doing the work. We get stopped at Sittingbourne station, and leading railwayman comes up front to ask us to keep a look out as driver in front of us reports that he THINKS he may have hit a dog. So on we trundle, and sure enough after a couple of miles we see the dog. It's front half is in the six foot sitting up and looking around while its rear half is in the four foot. The train had cut it cleanly in half and the weight of the steel wheels on steel rails had completely pinch sealed the wound. There was no way that we could stop anywhere near the dog - going too fast and it took forever to slow to a stop at next signal, where colin phoned the signalman to confirm location of badly injured dog and asked for an emergency vet to go sort it. So on we trundle to Faversham, where we do a quick bit of shunting then off to the hut for tea and sarnies. Shortly we get message asking us to take a class 73 light loco back to Gills.
On the return trip, about an hour later, for some morbid reason we decided to slow down at the spot where the dog was to have a look - the dog was still there exactly as we left it and still alive. So we stopped. We looked and we pondered and it looked so sad. I decided I had to help it somehow, even though it didnt appear to be in much pain - just confused, bewildered. I took the short circuit bar (Long heavy wooden handle with heavy metal bar on end used to deliberately short circuit the 3rd rail). Climbed down and stood there next to the dog for what felt like an eternity, it looked up at me and I will never forget the look in that animals eyes just as I swung the bar accross the back of it's head.
We trundled on, but pulled up outside of Sittingbourne signal box and gave the signalman a shout, asked him why after so long it was still there - he replied that he was too busy to worry about such trivial matters. You can imagine the tongue lashing he got from us.
Next story I might recount the time I was eating human flesh for lunch........ Yes, these stories are honestly true and not made up in any way.
Even the 'technicolour' quality of some of the clips bought back memories of my old super 8 cine camera days.
And the driver picking the flowers - absolutely brilliant. Even reminded me of a coach driver that stopped in a country lane once and let all the passengers off to help themselves to a load of apples placed in a wheelbarrow at the end of a driveway!
There's no denying that life is VERY different now, but as you ask, Is it any better?
OK, next story then, and this one is a little gory so no eating while reading o ye of weak tummy...........
Cant remember the year but I'm still a second man so pre summer 1976. By now I am experienced enough to be trusted (have even been doing my fair share of driving, albeit illegal and certain people would have kittens if they found out but it's something that went on all the time). We're sitting in the mess room at Gillingam watching the TV & drinking tea etc, when me and a driver get called upon to take a light loco' to Stewarts Lane. I dont remember who the driver was, but he threw me his EP key and told me to go get it 'warmed up'. I made a half hearted complaint because I was eating my sarnies, but off I went anyway.
Now preparing a loco' involved doing various tasks in a set order; climb up one side and check position of certain switches etc, get out the other side, walk to other end and around the front, climb into cab other end check swithches that end then walk through engine room back to driving cab and put key in etc.........
So I climb up the first few steps of the class 73 and curse the fitters cos I got (what I thought) was a load of grease on my hands. I give them a quick wipe on an old rag in the cab then a quick wipe down trouser legs and continue eating my sandwiches, and I swear I must have missed a bit and got a mouthful of the grease cos it didn't taste nice. Curse those damned fitters not cleaning up properly behind themselves, I think to myself.
Getting down out the other side of the cab I get a lot more "grease" on my hands and some on my shoes from the steps. I suppose something in my head said "this is not right" and made me step back to see the wider picture, and there it was.
Splashed all the way up the side of the loco' from top to bottom; it looked just like someone had thrown a couple of dozen tins of spaghetti up the side. But you know what..... I STILL didn't realise what it was, and I am STILL finnishing off my sarnies!!
When the driver arrives on scene, I ask what it is. He tells me it's the remains of a woman that jumped off of Rainham platform very early in the morning in front of it while it was doing around 90mph. He's laughing when I tell him I got covered in 'it' and he says "Why do you think I gave you the key?"
That wasn't funny. I said "You could have warned me first", and of course his reply was "Would you still have come and done it if I did?"
I'm just glad I have a good strong stomach!
And mrbungle, I too became a bus / coach driver after leaving the railway (which was in itself a very sad and foolish day). While I never actually killed anyone myself on the railway, I did end up killing a pedestrian with a bus. That was in the late 80's in Cambridge. A Mr van man ran out of a driveway and around the back of his parked van straight into the path of my double decker, which was doing just a shade under 40mph at the time. I hit him about one second after I saw him so I had no chance of taking avoiding action. He smashed the front left of the bus completely in and police told me he flew through the air just over 21 feet before landing. And my colleagues were amazed that after they bought a replacement bus out to me I carried on driving like nothing had happened. Maybe it would have been a different story if it had been my fault (or worse, if it had been a child).