c4countdown

David Roe wrote:My brother drives a tube train, and he still calls it the dead man's handle. Maybe it's not the official name, but it's still used. He's never had a suicide, touch wood.

That's what we always called it David, but somebody in authority thought that it wasn't posh enough. new Drivers are taught the new name. I only mentioned it because I have learnt my lesson on this Forum. You have to watch your back, because if you make a mistake, there is always somebody ready to stick a knife in it.

Rosemary Roberts wrote:Here's my small contribution to you and your mates, George.

A couple of years ago I read a rather sanctimonious obituary of a highly religious man who had become very depressed and had eventually killed himself by jumping in front of a train. All his assorted pious brethren were quoted as to what a nice guy he had been, how he would never have hurt a fly, and how assiduously everybody should pray for him.
For once I abandoned my usual acerbic style (which rarely makes it past the online censors) and posted a rather mealymouthed comment to the effect that they should rather be praying for the engine driver. And to my eternal astonishment, the newspaper published it.

I still love you Rosemary. It's nice to have a champion for us old Engine Drivers. (We have to keep our affair secret from all my other girl friends and my lovely Wife, Olive).

Sorry for the delay, George, but I've been away. I really apreciate your raising the subject of suicides because I do not think things should be hushed up at all. I have read before of the awful affect this has on train drivers - not the same for everyone, of course, but I guess one is never the same again.
It seems usual for the emphasis and the thoughts to be on the deceased and his or her family, but it seems to be a most selfish act.
I think it should be everyone's right to take their own life if they want to, but they should give some thought as to how they do it and the effect it may have on others.

John Bosley wrote:Sorry for the delay, George, but I've been away. I really apreciate your raising the subject of suicides because I do not think things should be hushed up at all. I have read before of the awful affect this has on train drivers - not the same for everyone, of course, but I guess one is never the same again.
It seems usual for the emphasis and the thoughts to be on the deceased and his or her family, but it seems to be a most selfish act.
I think it should be everyone's right to take their own life if they want to, but they should give some thought as to how they do it and the effect it may have on others.

Shock is a very strange feeling John. You don't know you've got it until a a couple of weeks later, and you start coming back to earth again. I suppose that where a suicide is concerned, all that they can see is a piece of machinary.

John Bosley wrote:To George and all those who have shown interest in railway stuff - I recently read a couple of books by Andrew Martin that you might like to read. They are thrillers about Jim Stringer 'Steam Detective' and all based on the steam era on the railway. He is an enthusiast of steam and apparently learned to drive steam locomotives (under supervision) but I bet George could tell him a thing or two.

Titles : 'The Necropolis Railway' and 'The Blackpool Highflyer'
(published by Faber and Faber Ltd)

Cheers
John

I've got "The Necropolis Railway" from the Library John. I'll be reading it in bed tonight, all alone.
I find that reading in bed is a good substitute for passion when you are old and doddery.

John Bosley wrote:Thank you, George. What a bundle of memories you have and clearly so moving. It's good for you (and us) that you share them with people on this forum and with your old colleagues and friends.

John, I said that I would like to post a story about an accident, but was a bit nervous about legal repercussions. I searched for the report of the accident on the internet, but found that I had to pay to access it, so I didn't bother. however! as it can be accessed and is in the public domain, there is no reason to stop me from also talking about it, or about any accident, and as it was adjudged an accident, there is no place in this post for opinions..

I will refer to the Driver as Pinocchio, which seems rather apt. I was working a down train to Sevenoaks, in the evening, and in the dark. I'd just left Swanley, going round the Junction on the way to Sevenoaks. A train was approaching on the up-line and I saw the cab light on. Normally we would give a little wave, but I didn't bother because I could see who it was, and his head was down, looking at something on the desk. This happened every evening at the same time and place.

I mentioned it to some of my mates, and they said that he had been told about it, but had been assured by him that he was only glancing at his notebook to ascertain the time he was due at the next station. There were a couple of Drivers who had notebooks with station times.

Then came the day when he stopped at a station where I assume the signal was red against him.
I don't remember any report of signaling irregularities. I can only speculate on what happened next. Most of the Guards, if they noticed that the signal was red, would not give the Driver the signal to start, but it was not their responsibility. I assume that the Guard gave the Driver the signal to start.

I'll Go off at a tangent here and tell you that I always looked back when stopped at stations. But if there was a signal there, and it was red, I would keep the window shut and watch the signal, and you would be surprised at the number of times I got the bell to start, but the signal was against me. As far as I can remember, the rule states, "when station duties are completed, The Driver will be given the signal to start, AND PROVIDED THAT THE SIGNALS ARE CLEAR, the Driver may start." Did you notice the order of importance, and who would be responsible in the event of a mishap.

At the next station, an engine was pulling a train of coaches from the siding and on to the main line. In broad daylight, Pinocchio hit the engine which was pulling out tender first. The collision was so violent, the tender smashed the train cab and rode up on top of the coach. It's a mystery to me how he got out of the cab in time to avoid getting squashed.

We were told that several people were taken to hospital, which is such a bland statement. It doesn't describe a possible lifetime of disability and pain, and when I think about it, I think it is a pity that Pinocchio got out of the cab in time.

I don't know what Pinocchio was charged with in Court, but he was found not guilty, and was relegated to work in a Loco shed, oiling up engines etc, as punishment.

A little while later, a Foreman's job was advertised at the Depot, and the powers that be decided that Pinocchio was the Ideal man to be promoted. Did I tell you that Pinocchio had "friends" and that promotion was automatic, and that intelligence was not one of the qualifications for promotion?

But engine Drivers are a stroppy lot, and I don't know what their actions were, but Pinocchio's promotion was cancelled with the Management agreeing that he was there for punishment, not promotion.

But you can't keep a good man down, can you? Pinocchio suddenly disappeared from the Loco shed and surfaced when a Driver must be disciplined by a Footplate Inspector, and who must that Inspector be? why, Pinocchio of course.

About that time, I had to be disciplined by an inspector, for some minor misdemeanor, I think that I had missed stopping at a station. Arthur Sherrier ( I think that's the correct spelling)asked me what I had to say for myself. I said "nothing Arthur, sit down and have a cup of tea" He said to me "That's not the right attitude". So I said "Listen Arthur, I didn't miss the station on purpose, so what are you going to do about it, all you've done is to justify your job by talking to me, and if all you lot went tomorrow, nobody would notice, and the trains would still run". Then I went for the Jugular. "Do you expect me to respect your authority when a man like Pinocchio is promoted to discipline Drivers". Poor Arthur's argument collapsed then. He said "you're right George, I've complained to Mr--------- (the boss of the entire South-Eastern Drivers) about it, and I've told him that we will lose our authority with the men, and all he would say was, I've appointed that man".

There was a wonderful story about Pinocchio when he had to interview a Driver. we were working to rule (again) and a Driver's Lobby situated on a platform was full with Drivers. The door opened and in walked Pinocchio. The men all stopped talking and there was a deathly hush because he was universally hated. He said, "I'm looking for Driver ---------, I don't know the chap"
And a voice from the locker room said, "you fuckingwell ought to know me you Bastard. I was the fireman on that engine you hit, and you nearly killed me" Pinoccio went straight back out and didn't bother to interview him.

He was transferred away from our bit of railway, and I like to think that it was our hatred that did it.

Getting away from that story, I'll tell you about the time when I had to be disciplined by the big man in charge of our area. His Office was at London Bridge. my crimes were missing staions I should stop at. The trouble was that all the week I would be on semi fast trains where I would not be booked to stop at some stations. Then I would be working on my rest day (we all needed the money)and it would be a different job, stopping at all stations. Unfortunately our brains are programmed for the job that we had the day before, and I'm belting through Denmark Hill when I spot Ernie, a Guard, my fishing mate. I saw him hoist his bag over his shoulder, preparing to board my train, but I ain't stopping, I'm going fast to Bromley South like I've done all the week.

When he realised that I wasn't going to stop, he waved goodby, and then I remembered and let the deadmans handle go. But I was too late. I was too far in advance of the station to reverse so I carried on, and now I've got to have a little chat with my Governer.

I sat down in front of his desk and noticed a pile of reports on it. I said to him, "I'm not the only one then?". "Good Lord no", he said, "in fact the Doctors have meetings about you men and why you make these mistakes, so don't worry about it." (I never had worried about it, they can't sack all of us)
Then he said, "you are going back to Victoria aren't you?" (knowing bleeding well I intended to jump on the first train home) I said "yes of course" "Good" he said "Take this bag of tomatoes back and give them to your Foreman, tell him I picked them this morning". I did that and faded quietly away and into a train home. What a lovely day's work. I should have missed a lot more stations.

Thanks for that, George. I did not quite get the 'head down' of Pinnochio-was he reading a book or was it really a work notebook every time?
Also be interested if the experts solved the prob of not stopping at stations - with some bit of clever technology.

John Bosley wrote:Thanks for that, George. I did not quite get the 'head down' of Pinocchio-was he reading a book or was it really a work notebook every time?
Also be interested if the experts solved the prob of not stopping at stations - with some bit of clever technology.

John, I can't give an opinion on this. Pinocchio claimed that it was his note book and we could not prove otherwise. However, I did tell my Wife that if she was waiting for a train, and one arrived driven by him, I "ordered" her not to board it, but wait for the next one. She knew him by sight, and I was serious.

As for not stopping and technology. No, it was not solved. Driving electric trains was so different from steam locomotives. An engine was a live thing, and how she worked depended on the skill of the Driver and fireman. I remember a trip when I was a fireman, and we had a Battle of Britain class engine. they could be slave labour for the fireman, especially if you had small hard coal.

I didn't have my regular Driver, and the job was a boat train from Victoria to Dover. When we arrived at Dover, I said to my Driver, old Bert Ing. "didn't you go Bert" (we'd had to make up time due to a delay) And he replied, "yes, but it wasn't just me, I can only do my job if you do yours". That was praise indeed for me, because I did have work like a slave that day. Firing is an art, and it is not just a matter of chucking coal on the fire. the engine crew always had to think ahead, whether it was a fast passenger train, or a heavy trundling freight.

Compare that with an electric train. you get the green flag or bell to start. you swing the controller round, the motors wine and when you get near the next station, you shut off power, apply the brake and stop, and you've done nothing but sit on a chair and swung a handle. The job then became an automatic routine, and that was the problem. I may joke about not stopping now, but at the time it was not a joke. Passengers may want to alight or board the train, and that was what I was getting paid for, and I didn't feel very good about it.

George Jenkins wrote:As for not stopping and technology. No, it was not solved.

Nowadays you do have computers running the interlocking systems that are supposed to prevent serious crashes. But even the most failsafe software boasts only of "99.99% availability", and over a year that works out at rather more than an hour with a malfunctioning system. You might be lucky and not end up with a fast train heading for another fast train while the computer is down. Or you might not.

That's why the railways need their Georges - who know the rules and understand the reasoning behind them.

BTW I know a bit about this from translating the specifications for such systems. (In real life, nobody ever RTFM, but the translator has to!) It never fails to amaze me that the designers cannot resist building in backdoors so that the controllers can override the interlocks. And I've no doubt they do.

Rosemary Roberts wrote:

George Jenkins wrote:As for not stopping and technology. No, it was not solved.

Nowadays you do have computers running the interlocking systems that are supposed to prevent serious crashes. But even the most failsafe software boasts only of "99.99% availability", and over a year that works out at rather more than an hour with a malfunctioning system. You might be lucky and not end up with a fast train heading for another fast train while the computer is down. Or you might not.

That's why the railways need their Georges - who know the rules and understand the reasoning behind them.

BTW I know a bit about this from translating the specifications for such systems. (In real life, nobody ever RTFM, but the translator has to!) It never fails to amaze me that the designers cannot resist building in backdoors so that the controllers can override the interlocks. And I've no doubt they do.

Rosemary, You modern Ladies never cease to amaze me with your knowledge. When I was a young man, Ladies used to just sit in an armchair knitting socks.

George Jenkins wrote:Rosemary, You modern Ladies never cease to amaze me with your knowledge. When I was a young man, Ladies used to just sit in an armchair knitting socks.

Surely not, George. I'm sure your mother did a great deal more with her life than that, even if most of her time was probably spend waiting on your father, you and any brothers you may have had (and training your sisters to do the same).

Times have undoubtedly changed, and much for the better.

Rosemary Roberts wrote:

George Jenkins wrote:Rosemary, You modern Ladies never cease to amaze me with your knowledge. When I was a young man, Ladies used to just sit in an armchair knitting socks.

Surely not, George. I'm sure your mother did a great deal more with her life than that, even if most of her time was probably spend waiting on your father, you and any brothers you may have had (and training your sisters to do the same).

Times have undoubtedly changed, and much for the better.

You are right Rosemary, but my tongue was firmly in my cheek when I wrote that. My Mother had thirteen children, but only nine survived. The laundry was done in a galvanised iron bucket set on the gas stove. In those days the men went to work, and the Wives did the house work, that was the arrangement in our house.
Now we've got the washing machine, dish washer, tumble drier, two freezers, fridge, three tele's etc. and we don't have to go to work. What a lovely life. I'm glad that we've got all those gadgets, because I do the house work. Olive suffers terribly with her spine, and takes pain killers to ease the pain. Olive worked all her life to help me, so now it's my turn to make her life easier.

The funny thing is, that I enjoy doing it. I will have to be careful though. If I spot a tiny piece of cotton or fluff on the carpet, I pounce on it as if it is an illegal alien. I must not turn house work into an obsession. Also I hate peeling potatoes.

George says, 'Also I hate peeling potatoes'.
Don't do it then. You can either bake them in their jackets - lovely! or boil them with skins on and just push the skins off while they are still hot like some of the Irish do - or just eat the skins if the spuds are not too old.

John Bosley wrote:George says, 'Also I hate peeling potatoes'.
Don't do it then. You can either bake them in their jackets - lovely! or boil them with skins on and just push the skins off while they are still hot like some of the Irish do - or just eat the skins if the spuds are not too old.

But if I take your advice John, I will have nothing to complain about, because, as all the Ladies know, a house husband's work is never done. There is always something to do.

John Bosley wrote:George says, 'Also I hate peeling potatoes'.
Don't do it then. You can either bake them in their jackets - lovely! or boil them with skins on and just push the skins off while they are still hot like some of the Irish do - or just eat the skins if the spuds are not too old.

John, I have almost finished the book-'The Necropolis Railway',and when it talked about T9's it brought back happy memories. I worked on them as a fireman, and they were used on excursions and hop-pickers trains. they would be packed with old (to me) ladies with lots of chidren. All their belongings, blankets, cooking pots etc, piled up on prams. they were a cheerful, noisy lot.