It was never going to be a good day especially following England's defeat the night before at the hands of Germany in Euro ’96 but our Teutonic friends would play a part in the days proceedings following a particularly hectic day with the Chaterer’s Charter; a train run by Res to thank it’s charter customers for their business. At Euston an accident on the M1 meant that the Trainman ( Dangerous from Rugby) wouldn’t be there so between us we managed to crew the train up to Birmingham International and even had time for a fry up on the way down.
We changed at Kidderminster for a couple of puff puffs to Bridgnorth and then the highlight was revealed.... D1062, albeit on one engine, was rostered to take us back and the front coach soon filled up with people coming out of the closet and opening the windows to savour the thrash. It really was quite enlightening. And soon, too soon perhaps, the Maybach (!) revved and the years just peeled away and all the lads weren’t managers or responsible people we were just Whizzo bashers again! The front coach reverberated with “Good Sounds” and to everyone’s credit nobody started to bellow ( or was it? Surely we should not be shamed into silence!) even though at every stop the driver gave it some stick.... like the “Man with the bootlace tie” used to! Soon we were “ticking” into “Kiddy” and, again, if you closed your eyes it could have been Padd, Penzance, Paignton or Swansea twenty five years before... But we did not have an Area 4 or a West of England and this wouldn’t happen again tomorrow and so today we’d walk away and not look back because we all knew that this was `96 not `73 and this was not the real thing. It was close but still not like it really was. The real thing was loads of us singing “We’re going to Barbados” as Souper Douper Trooper thrashed away from Dawlish in `75 with the sea shimmering, brilliant white clouds drifting like marshmallows across an unfeasibly blue sky and the whole summer before us but never mind.. It was close! And that’s enough, isn’t it? It’ll certainly do for me!!
5. FOOTPLATE
I suppose when I watched, along with several hundred others, D1013& D1023 leave Padd on a cold February evening in 1977 I knew that would never have the chance to drive a Whizzo on the mainline. Never mind that I wasn’t even on the footplate then so the chances of driving anything were nil! Even so despite getting on the footplate and working on Deltics in their last years the likelihood of having a go on a Thousand would remain one of life’s unfulfilled dreams.
Fast forward twenty five years and cut to a bright Spring morning at Reading station where many old friends were gazing East out towards Sonning and where eventually a familiar shape albeit in a colour few of us could remember appeared and slowly crept into Platform 4. Although the colour was unfamiliar the name and number wasn’t although not seen for nearly a quarter of a decade- the number was D1015 and the name Western Champion. As everyone else headed towards the coaches I made my way to the cab where I was to drive over the B & H to Westbury beyond.. Sitting in the chair and watching R38 change to green with No 1 junction indicator the reality dawned that 25 years after deciding that I would never drive a thousand on the mainline I was seconds away from taking the first Whizzo down the B & H since D1048 on the Lament in February 1977 and the first Swindon Whizzo since D1023 on the 1040 ex Padd earlier in the same month............ and then “R.A.” Engine Only to Forward and then ease the controller back.
There was only one place to put ones head and that was out the window to check, ostensibly, that everything was coming but in reality to savour the good sounds. It wasn't long before the handle was right back and the years just rolled away. Blasting away out through Reading West a surreal dream like state ensued which seemed to last for ever. Becoming the first driver to bring a Thousand in and out of Exeter St Davids for twenty five years will take some beating........ Fast forward again to 15th June ’02 and Bath Spa station awaiting the arrival of 1Z15 1510 ex Swansea. Slightly later than booked Mr Blagg smoothly halted a big golden ochre beast, ticking like only a Thousand can. Climbing into the cab (which was complete with plaster gnome - a reference to the old Bath Road gnome totter merchants) and taking the chair all that was required was the green flag and we would be away.
Right on cue a flash of green from towards the back and yet again the handle caused the Maybach’s to rev to a crescendo as we thrashed out through Sydney Gardens before receiving the flashing yellows for Bathampton Junction and the route to the Desert via Bradford Junc. Once clear of the junction I wound up the machine again and soon we were up to line speed (60 mph) and making good progress before catching up the Weymouth which left a good ten minutes before although it was stopping at every white washed wall. The speed was brought down following the single yellow and approaching the red we were doing about ten before the aspect flicked from red to green. The picture on the DTG website sums up what happened next.... By careful manipulation of speeds most of the stations could be blasted through before receiving the feathers to squeal around the Chord at Hawkeridge to the spiritual home of the Whizzos - the B & H.
Once clear of the Junction at Heywood Road the handle went from off to full and there it stayed until the top of Savernake was reached and had to ease off for the 70 around Crofton. One more check, this time a ESR at Hungerford before the final blast towards Reading. To maximise the effect at Newbury I eased it back up the knap to Enborne Junction before giving it the lot just after the new A34 overbridge which meant that with a cacophony of noise and horn we blasted through the middle road at Newbury dead on 90. (It could have been more but rules are rules!) After passing under the M4 at Theale double yellows were sighted which meant that this bit of the thrash was over. Coming to a stand at R379 (“Nelsons Hat”) we realised that we were over ten early. After doing all the other tours in some shape or fashion including the incredible bellow into Victoria on the VSOE when the kettle blew up the best, so far, was kept until a staggeringly hot Saturday in August when we all went back to PZ behind a Whizzo - who would have thought that? After 26 years we were back at the blocks!! My Lords - absolutely dreadful! And what’s more this time I’d be leaving up the front! Three hours later a Whizzo was ticking over in Platform 5 at Exeter - how many times has that happened before? - awaiting the RA for Padd.
This time for me was slightly different - I was in the chair with an audience of quite a few with a hand on the handle of nourishment and quite a lot expectant heads out of the window! Red to Green, auto brake to Run - straight air brake lapped at 20 psi - F & R to Forward - “RA” illuminates and then click - fill - the lot!!! 1600 revs from a standing start! Savouring the thrash I notice Mr Greenslade’s plaque “My Lords!” - dreadful! Looking back the station where many of us had grown up was covered in the good clag and the people applauding - does it get any better than this? I don’t think so..... (at least not in railway terms!)
6. SUMMER SATURDAYS
There are two ways to start a Summer Saturday; fester at Bridgwater for the Down Midnight or have a good nights kip and out early for the Down overnights. And then where do you go? Newquay? Paignton? Weymouth? Fishguard? Padd? Penzance? Well, it all depended what appeared when the “pegs” were lowered and you strained your eyes towards Cowley. The best places for a Summer Saturday were the resorts; Newquay, Paignton or Weymouth. Fishguard was OK but there was, to be blunt, sod all to do there! Weymouth was quite rare until `76 but Newquay and Paignton were the places to go for Whizzos, sun, sand, slot machines and chips.
The thrash to Newquay was the best; up through the Luxulyan valley and the into the platform at Newquay. Whilst the machine ran around we would sample the town, some chips or breakfast, the fruit machines and then back to the station to grab the front coach and fling open the windows. The problem with Cornish moves Eastward meant a change of loco at Plymouth except in very exceptional circumstances however Saturdays meant anything can happen and often some Northern trains would go through and change engines at Bristol or Gloucester or even New Street. The journey through deepest North Cornwall was always a sedentary affair; changing tokens at St Dennis and Goonbarrow before descending towards St Blazey after which we would squeal around the corner into Par and then into the near continuous thrash to Liskeard. If the loco “clunked” at Plymouth then we would bale too to await our fate for the next available Thousand either West or East. Plymouth station on a balmy Summer Saturday afternoon could hardly be beaten for atmosphere.
Even if there were no Westerns about just lazing around on a BRUTE and sipping a Kia Ora or an ice cream and staring towards Laira expecting some “good sounds” for the Down Cornishman or the Down “Rivo” or even the Down Wolves - either way the move would finish on the Up North Mail, Up Midnight or the Up “Schlafs”. Just prior to 1400 the loco for 1V71 forward would drift in from Laira; all too often it would be diesel electric but sometimes although all to infrequently it would be Hydraulic and the loco would sit just “ticking” in the middle road with one of Laira’s finest at the throttle. Once the Peak arrived, cut off and had departed to Laira the Western would run forward onto the bridge and then drop back onto the remainder of the stock which remained after the buffet etc has been removed. Sometime after 1410 the loco would be thrashed mercilessly through the Duchy eventually terminating at PZ around 1630 - leaving ample time for chips and a bellow before going back to the station and the motley selection of stock which formed the 1745 to Bristol. Usually it was two or three Mark 1 compos and a few grubby parcel vans.
Despite this being the penultimate train of the day East seldom did the number of passengers unduly trouble the guard. The light at Penzance was always diffused by the high stone retaining wall thus St Michaels Mount was in bright sunshine whilst the station and what it contained was in slightly less bright light which nevertheless seemed to show the “Laira blue” of the Whizzos to the best effect. Being this far West meant that the light lasted longer - in fact until well after Plymouth and if it was a glorious evening, as it often was, therecould have been fewer finer places to be. And, of course, we knew that the next morning there would be a least one Whizzo on Bath Road to be kicked out Westwards - it really was as simple as that back then!! Fishguard was for hardcore bashers as it had to be reached via an overnight usually off the Up Midnight but also on the overnight out of Padd. Of course the Up Midnight had to work - and this was by no means guaranteed - if the 0820 had to be covered or anything on the Friday to get to London. Fishguard was a long way from London in fact it was a long way from Swansea and when you got there, there wasn’t a great deal to do except either go to Ireland or come back! It took all day and all you got was 400 miles plus behind Whizzos and maybe a few phots but that was all - except for the memories.
Paignton was an altogether different affair - you could chose from several trains and even go more than once. There was good thrash, reasonable mileage and the usual seaside attractions - an often irresistible combination and it could be all done on an Area 4!! The Summer timetable lasted a lot longer than the mean and paltry post Privatisation ones we are now used to and also there were more than the few additionals that also run now so not only did you get the regular service you also got quite a number of reliefs to chose from often at short notice. A motley selection of “vaccys” kicked out from some normally forgotten siding hauled by anything which the Ops Dept could lay its hands on and often crewed by freight men who relished the opportunity to travel at more than 45!! Back to Paignton and what goes down must come back so most of the Down trains returned to at least Newton Abbot and sometimes further so you could get out of town relatively easily. It is difficult to comprehend quite how busy, how complex and how fascinating those Summer Saturdays were compared with today. Today a Summer Saturday barely resembles a Winter Sunday!! Standing on any station East of Newton Abbot and West of Taunton one was treated to a continual stream of traffic both Up and Down and more often than not there were some surprises. Not often was it loco types but certainly rare locos within the Class i.e. Thornaby Duffs, Cricklewood Peaks, Eastfield Rats and so on.
Quite a few people, to their eternal shame(!), took to going after these “lines in the book” rather than sampling the hydraulic wares on offer. It really was very difficult not to score back then - a wonderful time! And of course the saddest thing of all was that we took it all for granted because we could do it all again next week and when the Summer was over the Winter would bring it’s own moves but anyway back to the Summer........... Every weekend people would descend on the West and you would meet tens of people who you only saw at weekends or when the came down for their annual rover. Of course we took the piss unmercifully but many a long term friendship was struck which lasted until well after the last Whizzo was switched off. There was an innocence back then; there were armies of people around every major station had its own contingent and of course everyone knew each other. There can be few hobbies which involve so much travelling and knowing so many people from so far a field and that’s what made it such a special time. Later, much later, when we were less intense we would spend time getting pissed or playing the machines or doing the fairgrounds and sometimes not even going with the machines but that was much later.
When we were Thousand bashing it was just that - there was no time for anything else although ironically, particularly in ‘76, there was time enough to conduct another hobby or two!!! There was a peripheral side to bashing as well; it was the station furniture, the other things that made everything so special (in retrospect, of course) - there was the buffet food, the rip off on the train buffets in ‘76 (15p for a plastic beaker of warm squash!!! bastards!), the chippy’s at Penzance, Mickies at Paddington, when the Landore foreman kicked out one big blue Duff ( No ‘054 if I’m not mistaken), having an Igloo monster at Paignton and then playing bingo in the arcades and winning some adding contraption which we thought could work out mileage and then stamping out our favourite Wizzo name on the old fashioned machine in the steam railway at Paignton. And then there were the characters; God! were there characters! – but that’s another story!
Nick Edwards (D1012)