by Iain Spragg
The unexploded Second World War ordnance was an absolute whopper and nervous police immediately set up a 200-metre exclusion zone around it, which meant the Tube couldn’t safely stop at the station.
It was a wise move. As the brave boys of the bomb disposal unit got to work, the bomb started ticking and oozing an unidentified liquid, but once clean underwear had been sourced for the team they were able to stop the clock and make it safe.
‘This is the largest Second World War bomb to be discovered in the past three decades,’ said Chief Superintendent Simon O’Brien as he emerged nervously from his hiding place. ‘It measures approximately the size and length of a man and weighs around 1,000kg. One of our hero colleagues from the Royal Engineers went back into that bomb four times, which is extremely unusual. I think he was very brave.’
Bomb scares are sadly a fact of life on the Underground, but in this case it really was a very scary bomb indeed.
The Underground’s first experience of explosions actually dates all the way back to 1883 when Irish-American republican organisation Clan na Gael targeted the capital and the Tube in particular, blowing up part of a Metropolitan Line train with nitroglycerine and also damaging an engine in the tunnel between Charing Cross and Westminster.
Fortunately there were no fatalities as a result of the attacks and The Times the next day reported that it was ‘greatly to the credit of the people of London that there has been no approach to panic, still less any rash impulses of suspicion and vengeance’.
The Home Secretary immediately drafted in 300 extra policeman in the wake of the attacks to guard the network but the ‘dynamite wars’ ultimately came to an end in 1886 as a result of internal divisions which weakened the dissidents and London commuters were able to breathe easily once again.
THE NAME’S BOND, UNDERGROUND BOND
2008
Devotees of James Bond will remember a scene in the 2002 instalment of the franchise, Die Another Day, when 007 (a.k.a. Pierce Brosnan) descends down a mysterious flight of stairs to Vauxhall Cross Station for a tête-à-tête with ‘M’ before picking up the keys to his new Aston Martin and embarking on another mission of derring-do, Martinis and impossibly attractive female spies.
Devotees of the London Underground will, of course, know that Vauxhall Cross doesn’t actually exist but rumours persist that British Intelligence really did use the secret sections of the Tube at the height of the Cold War to avoid prying eyes and radioactive sushi.
Before MI6 moved to Vauxhall Cross in the 1990s, they were based on Westminster Bridge Road and the whispers have it there was a clandestine station on the network near Lambeth to ferry operatives to HQ throughout the 1960s and 1970s.
The powers-that-be have always refused to confirm or deny the rumours (and, to be fair, that’s because it was their job to do so) but in 2008 it became crystal clear that MI6 had, in fact, had underground ‘lodgings’ during the war. This top-secret information came to light after a rather interesting piece of subterranean real estate was put up for sale. Though, of course, it probably wasn’t advertised on Gumtree.
The property in question was a warren of tunnels under the streets of High Holborn. Previously subject to the Official Secrets Act, it emerged the tunnels had belonged to the enigmatically named ‘Inter Services Research Bureau’ just after the Second World War and were now up for grabs.
In fact, the ‘Inter Services Research Bureau’ was a research and redevelopment arm of MI6. Although the spooks had long since moved out to make way for the Post Office and then BT, it was proof positive that our finest spies really hadn’t been averse to a spot of very deep cover.
TOO RUDE FOR THE TUBE
2008
Londoners are generally considered to be a cosmopolitan bunch who are not easily shocked but over the years that hasn’t stopped the censor deciding what commuters should and should not be exposed to by way of advertising on the Underground.
Sparing everyone’s blushes is a noble pursuit. No one wants their daily commute to be accompanied by graphic or explicit images and passengers certainly don’t want to be forced into having the dreaded ‘birds and bees’ conversation with the kids as a result of a rather raunchy advert.
The censors, however, probably went a little too far in 2008 when they decided to ban a poster promoting an upcoming exhibition at the Royal Academy of Arts. The organisers’ faux pas was to use an image of a 1532 work by German artist Lucas Cranach the Elder, which depicted Venus, the Roman goddess of love, wearing nothing but a smile. Actually she is wearing a fetching necklace in the painting but CBS Outdoor – the company charged with upholding moral values on London Underground advertising – were not for turning and the poster was pulled.
‘We are disappointed and find it quite ridiculous in this day and age,’ said a frustrated Academy spokeswoman. ‘The painting is around 500 years old, it’s a pure painting by a master.’
Hard cheese, responded TfL, insisting they couldn’t care less about the artistic merits of Cranach’s brushwork.
‘Millions of people travel on the London Underground each day and they have no choice but to view whatever adverts are posted there,’ a spokesman intoned. ‘We have to take account of the full range of travellers and endeavour not to cause offence in the advertising we display.’
Venus is not the only poster to fall foul of CBS and TfL. In 2007 it was decided an image of a man breast-feeding a baby – an advert for online bingo – was deemed too unpalatable for the Tube masses, while in 2010 the authorities weren’t happy with the image used to promote the latest album by popular beat combo Massive Attack, insisting the painting of a face looked too much like graffiti.
‘They won’t allow anything on the Tube that looks like “street art”,’ said the band’s Robert del Naja, the man behind the image. ‘They want us to remove all drips and fuzz from it so it doesn’t look like it’s been spray-painted, which is ridiculous. It’s the most absurd censorship I’ve ever seen.’
It is easier to see why CBS has failed to green-light other advertising campaigns, particularly the 2005 poster for a TV series that featured Jerry Hall surrounded by a pack of half-naked men complete with dog collars and leads.
There was always going to be a furore when the makers of Rampant Rabbit, an adults-only item for ladies, tried to advertise on the Tube and, sure enough, CBS were quick to order the removal of all the offending items. To be fair, the artistic ad wasn’t unduly graphic or rude but the danger that Aunt Edna might be subjected to such implied filth was just too big a risk to take.
CENTENARY CELEBRATION FOR ICONIC LOGO
2008
Brand awareness is vital for any successful business. It’s all about instant product recognition, to borrow a dreadful management phrase, and if you’ve got an eye-catching corporate logo, the battle is already half won.
When it comes to business emblems, there are arguably none greater than the London Underground’s iconic red circle and horizontal blue rectangle motif that can be seen outside every station and on every platform, proudly informing passengers exactly where they are on the network.
The world-famous logo is an example of what is called a roundel and its first version – a solid red disc and intersecting blue bar – appeared on the Underground back in 1908 to advertise the name of each station. Its distinctive but simple design helped passengers quickly distinguish it from commercial advertising and the logo proved an instant hit.
In 1913 Frank Pick, the Underground’s publicity guru, commissioned a typographer called Edward Johnson to design a new typeface for the network and over the next few years the roundel was tweaked to accommodate the new lettering. The solid red disc became a circle as a result and once everyone was happy with the new design, it was registered as a trademark.
The roundel was a significant step towards giving the Underground a unified identify in a period when competing companies were still operating the different lines, and although the Metropolitan and District Lines both initiall
y persisted with their own diamond version of the logo, they eventually saw sense and the roundel was here to stay.
Over the next two decades the roundel appeared on just about everything connected to the network, from stained-glass windows to steel masts, and today it is actually illegal to visit London without purchasing an overpriced coffee cup featuring the famous logo.
Since its introduction the roundel has spread like a plague beyond London and can now be seen outside cafés in Cornwall and shops in Slovakia. There is even a roundel on a sun shelter in the middle of the Black Rock Desert in Nevada.
The roundel celebrated its 100th birthday in 2008 and to celebrate the Art On The Underground group staged an exhibition to mark the milestone, inviting 100 artists to create a work inspired by the famous red circle and blue oblong.
Entitled A Logo for London: 100 Years of Design Excellence, the exhibition featured drawings, paintings, sculptures, collages and photographs from a host of the art world’s big hitters, including Sir Peter Blake, Phillip Allen and Susan Hiller, and reached an even wider audience when the work was recreated in a series of posters on the network’s stations.
‘Nothing quite says London like the roundel,’ said Moira Sinclair, Executive Director of Arts Council England. ‘We are delighted to support this project with its 100 commissions to celebrate its 100th birthday.
‘We hope that the work will help put art at the centre of London life and add an artistic treat to our daily commutes. We look forward to seeing these new posters reacting to one of the world’s most recognisable, and best loved, icons.’
LEGAL EAGLE ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE LAW
2008
Complaining about delays on the Tube is something of a rite of passage for London’s commuters, but it’s prudent not to exaggerate the Underground’s faults, as Erien Dubash discovered to her considerable cost after making a staggering 1,140 bogus claims for tardy trains between January 2004 and April 2007.
Dubash submitted a deluge of Customer Charter forms to Transport for London claiming refunds for delays on the Jubilee Line and, as a result, the solicitor was reimbursed to the tune of £3,885 for the inconvenience.
An embarrassment indeed for TfL, until one bright spark at the company realised that if each of Dubash’s claims were really true, the Jubilee Line must have suffered significant problems every day for more than three years. A massive cross-checking exercise began to investigate whether they’d been duped.
They had, and at her trial at Southwark Crown Court in 2008, Dubash was finally found out. ‘This defendant took advantage of the system by deception,’ said prosecuting barrister Francis Sheridan. ‘In consequence she submitted large numbers of fraudulent claims to obtain funds she was not entitled to.’
The judge wasn’t impressed either, sentencing her to 200 hours of community service and ordering her to pay £8,000 in costs. Which all worked out a lot more expensive than buying a season ticket.
THE BIZARRE WORLD OF THE LPO
2009
Commuters on London’s public transport, including the Tube, are obviously a frightfully forgetful lot and the Lost Property Office (LPO) website tells us that a staggering 220,000 items per year are handed in to its HQ at the side of Baker Street Station, which works out at around 600 misplaced bits and bobs per day.
In 2009, the same year the LPO celebrated its 75th anniversary – and in lieu of a proper party with balloons and dancing and possible damage to the photocopier – they decided to open their doors to the public to reveal exactly what winds up in their cupboards.
The thousands of umbrellas, walking sticks and mobile phones cluttering up the shelves were no great surprise but things got interesting when the LPO admitted in the past passengers had also mislaid a lawnmower, a jar of bull’s sperm, a stuffed puffer fish, a 14-foot boat and a suitcase stuffed with £10,000 in used notes.
‘The amount of lost property handed in is going up every year,’ said LPO manager Julie Haley. ‘Nearly 200,000 items were handed in to the Lost Property Office [in 2008] and this is indeed a real testament to the honesty of Londoners. We do our best to reunite people with their property and would encourage anyone who loses something on public transport in London to get in touch with us.’
Two passengers who did just that were a scatterbrained university professor and an easily distracted medical courier.
The professor left two human skulls in a bag on the Tube, sparking a major police alert when they were discovered. It was only when the absent-minded academic came forward to explain the craniums were for educational purposes rather than the result of a grisly bloodbath that the boys in blue were stood down.
The courier in question was heading to a Harley Street clinic on the Circle Line with a package containing breast implants but, presumably transfixed by a fascinating advert for travel insurance, he got off the carriage without his cargo.
Turning up at the clinic, he realised his error, dashed to the LPO to retrieve his package and got back just in time to ensure the patient wasn’t left feeling flat after her operation.
THE MOST BORING JOB IN THE WORLD
2009
Keeping the London Underground looking its best is a mammoth task. The platforms, the ticket halls and the mile upon mile of tunnels all have to be maintained and the scale of the task when it comes to painting the network is on a par with the brushwork required to spruce up the Forth Bridge.
Transport for London, however, simply cannot shut down the system to let the decorators get to work. Passengers take a dim view of their next scheduled eastbound train being cancelled due to the application of a second coat of gloss, and TfL has a narrow two-hour window in the early hours of the morning to break out the rollers and stepladders.
Which is where Keith Jackson of paint manufacturer Aquatic Coatings comes in. TfL buys all its paint from the company and – believe it or not – Keith’s job is to watch the paint dry and ensure it dehydrates in a timely and prompt fashion.
‘It may be boring but it’s important that the paint dries quickly,’ Keith admitted in an interview in 2009. ‘We make paint for the London Underground, which can only be painted between 3 a.m. and 5 a.m. Once paint is on the floor, it has to dry hard enough and fast enough for people to be able to walk on.’
Keith’s typical working day sees him staring intently at a freshly painted wall, which must surely qualify as the world’s most boring job. The highlight of his shift comes when he has to dab at the wall with a piece of card to assess the paint’s consistency. He then clocks off and heads home for a quiet sob and an enormous drink.
‘Customers want paint to dry quickly,’ said Aquatic boss Anthony Kershaw. ‘It is a crucial part of our marketing.’
So the next time you see a pristine, newly painted Underground platform, spare a thought for poor old Keith.
THE STATION IN THE SKY
2010
Many of the Underground’s 270 stations are actually above ground but West Ashfield is unique when it comes to occupying an elevated position – it’s actually three floors up in a tower block in west London.
To be strictly accurate, West Ashfield isn’t a real station but Transport for London’s state-of-the-art, £800,000 training facility where new staff are taught to deal with the trials and tribulations of the Tube, but it’s so realistic you might be forgiven for thinking you had indeed discovered the network’s long-lost 271st stop-off.
Opened in 2010, West Ashfield features a mocked-up platform (modelled on a westbound District Line platform) that can vibrate to replicate the arrival of a train, an Oyster card reader, a PA system, signal points and electricity power controls for that truly authentic Underground experience.
There’s even a fan to simulate the blast of wind that accompanies a train when it emerges from a tunnel.
TfL now runs all manner of dastardly simulations at West Ashfield to ensure their staff can cope when they go out to work on the big, bad network for real.
‘When you can make trai
ns pile up to teach people how to respond, it’s better than standing on a platform talking about it,’ said TfL’s Nigel Holness, somewhat ominously. ‘We can also put on stressful situations to see how people respond in the control room. It used to be done by shadowing but now staff can learn by making mistakes that you wouldn’t be able to make in a real station.’
UPSIDE DOWN AT WHITECHAPEL
2010
The London Underground has a fascinating relationship with its Overground cousin. The two networks usually cohabit in the capital peacefully enough but from time to time cooperation can give way to competition and the two sets of tracks have to be physically prised apart before anyone gets hurt.
The Underground and surface railway also frequently share stations in a marriage of convenience.
One such cohabiting arrangement is at Whitechapel Station, which was first opened to the public in 1876 when the East London Railway between Liverpool Street and destinations south of the River Thames was completed. It was remodelled in 1902 to accommodate the services of the Metropolitan District Railway and the Underground and Overground began more than a century of blissful coexistence.
The builders, however, were back in 2007 when the Overground section of the station was closed to allow work on the East London Line extension; the work was finally finished in 2010 and Tubes and mainline trains were running once again.
The new Whitechapel Station is strange, though. In particular, the location of the platforms is bewildering, with the District and Hammersmith & City Line platforms sited above the platforms for the East London Line Overground.