False Starts, Near Misses and Dangerous Goods

by Geoff Body

  Geoff Body was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but at least he got a laugh out of it

  The year 1967 was quite eventful for me. As it began, I was enjoying working as the freight sales officer for the King’s Cross division. Dick Hardy was a well-loved and respected boss and the territory included my original career starting point, namely the Peterborough area. The passenger service on the East Coast Main Line was our flagship activity, but the division handled some useful freight traffic such as the Stainby iron ore, bricks from Peterborough and even London rubbish out from Ashburton Grove to landfill sites.

  In May of that year I was summoned to move back to the Liverpool Street division to act as divisional commercial manager while the incumbent of the post was up in York helping to plan the forthcoming merger of the Eastern and North Eastern regions. For the next six months I got involved in a lot of issues and projects, as everything involving business fell under my jurisdiction. Fortunately I had been schooled in the down-to-earth activity of the former London, Tilbury and Southend (LT&S) Line and managed things to the apparent satisfaction of my divisional manager Harold Few. The future seemed bright, too, as I secured an appointment to manage the passenger promotional activity in the new combined region’s headquarters at York. But, as things turned out, that was not to be.

  During this period, the Western Region was undergoing a shake-up to replace the traditional and sometimes feudal atmosphere that had lingered there from GWR days. I was to be part of this and replace the former marketing and sales manager of the West of England division at Bristol, my first senior officer appointment. The job held an immense attraction, for it controlled a huge and complex territory, having absorbed the old Plymouth district to create a boundary running from Worcester to Swindon to Bridport and embracing the whole of England west thereof.

  However, my first day at Bristol, just a fortnight before Christmas, was not what I would have wanted it to be. I’d left my Enfield home very early to get to Bristol Temple Meads at a decent time and then to walk the short distance to the offices in Transom House where I made myself known and was ushered into the office of Henry Sanderson, the divisional manager. Very welcoming, he also seemed surprised, and revealed that I was really supposed to be at the Paddington headquarters for a short indoctrination into the ways of the Western Region!

  Unfortunately, no one had told me, so we made the best of the situation and I was invited to join in the morning conference where I met my future colleagues, including the two assistant divisional managers Clive Rowbury and Ken Painter, my opposite number on the operating side Bill Bradshaw, and various other officers, among them George Robson and Dan Reynolds representing the mechanical engineering.

  All the usual subjects were covered, including the important issue of train punctuality. Unfortunately, there had been a mishap on the main line that morning when, in Robson’s lurid description, a high-speed train had run into a bucket of ballast which had been overlooked during track maintenance and left in the ‘four foot’. Robson reported that the collision had damaged the fairing on the front of the set, torn out various pipes along the first coaches, bruised and battered the battery boxes and generally messed up the underside of several vehicles.

  In the brief silence that followed this dramatic account, Dan Reynolds added drily, ‘And it didn’t do the bucket much good either!’

  I have remembered that moment as an amusing outcome after a poor beginning.

  NORTH OF SHAFTHOLME JUNCTION

  Donald Heath shares an amusing story passed on to him by Tom Greaves

  As recounted in the previous piece, the old Eastern and North Eastern regions were, in 1967, in the process of being amalgamated into a new super region. There was, of course, quite a long period of time between the announcement being made to the new arrangements actually being put in place, whilst people were appointed to the new posts and other organisational issues were resolved. During this period the post of chief civil engineer for the new region was announced and the holder of the same post in the old North Eastern Region was appointed to the position. His previous responsibility had commenced at the boundary between the two regions, namely Shaftholme Junction in Doncaster.

  Shortly after the announcement of his new position the new appointee was at a meeting in London and decided to carry out an informal inspection of part of his extended area of responsibility by riding in the cab of the train taking him back to York. He instructed the then divisional civil engineer at King’s Cross, Ken Haysom, to travel with him. They duly met on the platform on this particular day and climbed into the cab of a Deltic locomotive manned by a King’s Cross crew.

  The new chief civil engineer was a gentleman who possessed a distinct military style and was little given to extraneous conversation. Having made the introductions to the engine crew, not a word was said until the train rolled its way around the Offord Curves, a well-known spot just south of Huntingdon. On regaining the tangent track the new chief turned to his King’s Cross subordinate and said, brusquely, ‘That was not good enough, see to it, Haysom.’

  Totally unprompted, the Cockney driver, overhearing this instruction, remarked, ‘Core, guv, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet; just wait ’til you get north of Shaftholme Junction!’

  A RIGHT REGULAR ROYAL TRAIN

  Royal trains were always treated as a special occasion by the railways, as Bill Parker’s account demonstrates

  After traffic apprentice (TA) training and six months as supernumerary assistant on the London,Tilbury & Southend Line (during which time I worked on the electrification, resignalling and development of the new Ripple Lane freight railhead for two top operators, Bob Arnott and Jim Urquhart), I was formally appointed as general assistant to Cambridge District Traffic Manager Alan Suddaby. I must admit that I thought I had blown my chances of the position at the interview when, to a question from Great Eastern Line Traffic Manager Willy Thorpe about where I would live, I replied, ‘I was thinking of living in Cherry Hinton,’ to which he retorted, ‘We don’t think on the Great Eastern, we do!’ A lesson learned!

  I was placed in the operating organisation as third in line to District Operating Superintendent Harry Crosthwaite and given responsibility for passenger station and freight terminal activities, the new works section, the accident and rules and regulations section and the district operations inspectorate led by Chief District Inspector Cyril Rose. I also had a strong link with the various senior officers in the district organisation, commercial manager, motive power superintendent and finance officer – all of whom gave me very varied tasks, including investigations into the viability of, and possible improvements to, the numerous branch lines in the district.

  Several weeks after my appointment, I was summoned to the divisional traffic manager’s (DTM) office and, after being invited to take a seat – which in itself was a good sign – I was asked in his very military style what I knew about royal train operations. I recounted my knowledge of the special operating and signalling regulations, derived from times with my stationmaster father in Welwyn Garden City signal box as they passed by, and as a DI at King’s Cross and at Peterborough when the failed engine of a Down line royal train had to be replaced in the Down main-line platform. I also mentioned being questioned there by the Duke of Edinburgh about the various procedures during the engine change and its effect on punctuality.

  My boss must have had faith in me, or possibly because the customary practice was to put recent ex-TAs in at the deep end, as I was told that because Harry Crosthwaite was on leave I would take his place in charge of the royal train planning and operations for a London-bound departure three weeks hence from the royal station Wolferton on the King’s Lynn–Hunstanton branch line. I was to spend a couple of days at King’s Lynn and on the branch studying the layout, the signalling and station working, as well as meeting all the appropriate staff, including Wolferton Stationmaster Eddie Skillings, King’s Lynn Stationmaster Billy Hill, King’s Lynn Shedmaster Ted Shaw, the permanent-way i
nspector, signal and telegraph engineer’s inspector, and the British Transport Police (BTP) inspector. A clear incentive was being authorised to stay at the famous King’s Lynn Duke’s Head Hotel, with authority to ‘sign the bill’. Finally, as I was dismissed, feeling like a young subaltern being addressed by his CO, I heard, ‘Mr Fiennes will be Officer-in-Charge of the royal train, but you are in complete command at King’s Lynn and on the Hunstanton branch … and you will most probably be introduced to Her Majesty!’

  That was the easy, short meeting! I was passed on to ‘Mr Cambridge’, the inimitable George Docking, who gave me a very lengthy but comprehensive briefing. I felt that he didn’t have as much confidence in me, as he would be putting three DIs at King’s Lynn and on the branch: Jimmy Greaves at Wolferton; Percy Baynes at King’s Lynn for the engine change; and Stan Simpson in King’s Lynn junction signal box, with Billy Hill on the platform. The Wolferton stationmaster would be in charge of his station and would personally receive the Queen, the Duke and other members of the royal family.

  My wife was most enthusiastic to hear of my special task, and suggested that she would go to Wolferton on the big day to join the inevitable crowd. She also decided that my best suit would not be good enough, hence a visit to the famous outfitter’s shop in Cambridge, Joshua Taylor!

  At Wolferton station, which closed in 1969, the signal box is now a listed building. (Bill Parker)

  My few days in the Lynn area were most interesting and all the staff were most informative and professional. They had done it all before, not at all blasé but determined to ensure that everything was perfect on the day. Wolferton station was particularly charming and excellently maintained. Built in 1862, the same year Queen Victoria purchased Sandringham for the Prince of Wales, it became a popular place for royal parties and international visitors travelling there by special trains. The station closed in 1969, but the buildings were purchased by a railwayman, and still stand today with a Grade II listing. The former track area is now a very smart lawn. The signal box is still in situ and is also Grade II listed.

  I had done a detailed check the previous day, which I repeated after a very early breakfast on the big day itself and again an hour before the arrival of the empty royal train coaches at King’s Lynn. This ensured that everyone from all departments was in place, the steam crane was ‘in steam’ and the standby J17 engine was on the shed in readiness. It also gave me an opportunity to check that all the level crossings were manned and that the county police would close the road and Wolferton level crossing at the predetermined time. All this was done with the assistance of a police car and driver generously allocated to me by the BT police inspector.

  I kept in contact with Cambridge Deputy Chief Controller Stan Cornwell and George Docking, who was also in the control office, and with Stan Simpson in the signal box about the running of all the trains on the Cambridge line and the branch. Billy Hill and I met the empty coaches of the royal train and Officer-in-Charge Gerry Fiennes at King’s Lynn and, surrounded by Ted Shaw, his mechanical foreman and Percy Baynes, oversaw the engine change on to the rear of the coaches. I then travelled with Gerry Fiennes to Wolferton.

  The train was intentionally scheduled to arrive in Wolferton in very good time. The train engine was uncoupled and ran forward on to the single line towards Dersingham clear of the Up Home signal, and then ran round the train via the Up line. It then moved on to the rear of the empty coaches, coupled and propelled the coaches on to the single line again clear of the Up Home signal and then drew the empty train into the Up platform. The engine footplate stopped directly adjacent to a platelayer holding a red flag, who had been located there to ensure the doors of the saloon coach that were to be entered by the royal party were immediately alongside the red carpet. The train was now awaiting the arrival of the royal party, who were due some 25 minutes later.

  Jimmy Greaves and the locomotive running foreman supervised the engine changing, with Signalman Jack Harper in the signal box working enthusiastically to their instructions. The royal luggage – which had arrived earlier and was in the royal waiting room guarded by a BT policeman – was immediately loaded on to the train by the station porter. It was supervised by the royal train manager and wagon royal train depot at Wolverton on the West Coast Main Line (WCML). The train had been prepared for an instant departure once the royal party was safely and comfortably on board. During the waiting time Gerry Fiennes took the opportunity to meet and talk to the local staff of all departments, many of whom knew him from when he was the Cambridge district operating superintendent. To me it was all a wonderful lesson in man management.

  There we all were, waiting for the Queen: Eddie Skillings, smartly dressed in top hat and tails; Gerry Fiennes; the district civil engineer; the district signal and telecommunications engineer; the BT Chief Constable; Norfolk’s Chief Constable; various village and county councillors; several engineering and operating department inspectors grouped nearby, ‘just in case’; and me in my brand-new suit, starched white shirt, grey tie, sparkling toe caps and, of course, my bowler hat!

  Behind a meagre barrier, a couple of dozen locals and visitors were held back by a pair of burly county policemen experienced, as the Norfolk Chief Constable told me, ‘in crowd control’. My wife, adorned in a brand-new outfit, hat, handbag, shoes and with a dress umbrella, had no problems in getting near the front of this welcoming band of sightseers and royalists.

  We had had the phone call that Her Majesty had left Sandringham. Very shortly afterwards the Rolls entered the station yard and stopped opposite the station entrance, giving me the ‘tingle in my spine’, which also occurred on the many future occasions when I was involved with the royal train.

  Then everything seemingly happened very quickly: greetings, introductions, cheers and clapping from the crowd; Eddie Skillings accompanying the Queen, and Gerry Fiennes accompanying the Duke, on the short walk by the royal party along the red carpet to the saloon doors; and me shepherding the remaining members of the small royal party to the train where everyone was greeted by the royal train manager. Precisely at the booked departure time Gerry Fiennes gave the nod to the guard that the train could start, ourselves all joining the train, and the mechanical foreman and the district locomotive inspector travelling on the locomotive footplate.

  At King’s Lynn, Billy Hill met the train and Percy Baynes and the mechanical foreman oversaw the detaching of the engine and attaching of the new one, a Class J17. While this was going on the Duke strolled on to the platform and chatted with as many of us as he could in that short time. The royal train continued its journey, again on time, and I waited for my wife to arrive 20 minutes later by the local train. Then, together with Billy Hill, we went for what we all felt was a well-earned coffee!

  Back in the district office I was summoned by Alan Suddaby and advised, with a smile, that Mr Fiennes was very pleased and felt that everything had gone perfectly. In order to expand my experience, Fiennes had decided that any future royal trains to and from Wolferton and elsewhere in the district would be my job. Also, if the train officer-in-charge agreed, I could travel on the train all the way to London!

  The whole event from planning to completion had been an exceptional initiation and an uplifting experience for me. I felt privileged to have been given the opportunity to serve the royal family and to work with experienced, highly competent and enthusiastic railwaymen, especially one of the best railway operators of all times – Gerry Fiennes. However, it was kept in perspective by the comment from my wife, remarking, ‘I’m glad you didn’t mess about with those dirty oily couplings and the coal and soot on the footplate – and there’s not even a speck of dust on your new suit!’

  REWARD?

  Geoff Body was sent on an unexpected and unusual trip from London to Scotland

  Summer 1961 was drawing to a close as I was summoned from my desk to the line-traffic manager’s office in Saracen’s Head House near Fenchurch Street station. What, I wondered, was this all about?
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br />   The development of passenger-party travel was one of my varied responsibilities as head of the sales and development section for the LT&S Line and it was explained to me that, at this time of year, the Caledonian Steam Packet Company provided a short visit to their steamers operating in the Firth of Clyde for selected staff who might influence business.

  I had been chosen to go as a reward for my hard work, explained John W. Dedman. Commercial Manager Ted Taylor later put it differently: ‘You were the one we could most spare,’ he said with a familiar half grin.

  Anyway, off I duly set on the journey to Glasgow Central, registering at the hotel and settling into a rather nice room there. There was a pre-dinner gathering, with drinks for the group of select people to get to know each other and their hosts. A fine meal followed and then my introduction to malt whisky – all a rather unaccustomed measure of high living for me.

  Our first full day started with a good breakfast and a train journey along the north bank of the River Clyde to get to Balloch at the southern end of Loch Lomond. There we joined the elegant paddle steamer Maid of the Loch, which was later to grace the front cover of my first hardback book. Coffee and pastries were supplied as we steamed the length of the loch to Ardlui where lunch had been arranged. Replete and not a little sleepy we cruised back south again, returned to Glasgow for another journey, via Wemyss Bay, and then took a steamer to Rothesay for our dinner and night’s stay there. It had been a good day and I could see myself recommending this sort of thing without reservation.

  In September 1961 the turbine steamer Duchess of Hamilton heads along the Firth of Clyde near Largs.

  With her paddles creating a strong wake, PS Caledonia sets off from Rothesay for her next stop at Dunoon.