Known to everyone as ‘4 shed’ as it was the fourth motive power depot on the site. Number 1 shed remained in use for crane repair as an adjunct to the Millwrights Shop, ‘2 shed’ was ‘The Pattern Store’ and also housed the preserved locos, and ‘3 shed’ had been damaged in World War Two, being replaced by the ‘Loco Stores’ which was an ugly concrete and brick box. ‘4 shed’ consisted of a rectangular building with two turntables inside and associated pit roads, plus an external turntable and several long sidings known as X4. There was also a coaling plant and ash disposal point. By 1964 steam was being run down and a new diesel depot was built at Etches Park (on the site of old carriage sheds) where all the diesel locomotives were serviced. There was still plenty of steam locomotives at work and a steady stream of visiting locomotives as well as the inevitable lines of withdrawn locomotives waiting disposal. The area breakdown crane and train was also based at ‘4 Shed’, and on reporting for duty the first thing they needed to know was my address and phone number as I was to be on call for the breakdown train.

Working in ‘4 shed’ was a total change from either the locomotive or carriage works as it was a primitive place, indeed the most that I ever worked in. There being no compressed air or electrical supply for either power tools or lighting. Illumination for the job was meant using a tallow lamp, which was little more than a candle on steroids. For instance sitting in a smokebox of a cold steam locomotive in a blizzard out on X4 with the only light a tallow flare as we wrestled with inaccessible nuts with freezing cold tools was certainly different.

The work in ‘4 shop’ consisted of two main activities, routine maintenance and failure repairs (usually broken springs). Routine valve and piston examinations were well detailed and depending on the locomotive type based on mileage or time. Usually the boiler washout and cleaning was co-ordinated with the fitter’s work so that the length of time out of traffic was minimized. Changing springs on engines in steam certainly taught me that shed fitters were a tough breed, particularly when working on the springs adjacent to the firebox with both limited clearances and great heat next to you. I found it to be interesting work despite the physical hardships.

I learned another important safety lesson early on. While placing a jack under a locomotive I put my hand on top of the jack. An elderly man punched me full in the face then held up his hand.

“I did that once and the loco slipped, took my fingers off. Don’t ever do that,” he said, showing me where most fingers and part of his thumb were missing.

This was a time when health and safety was everyone’s business, and men looked out for each other.

The breakdowns taught me the most basic rule that ‘Murphy’ will ensure that the rain, snow or whatever will end just as everything is back on the tracks. My usual duty on these jobs was handling the packing for the outriggers and tidying up afterwards. I remember one spectacular derailment that I heard happen, as it was on shed. A locomotive crew, having set the turntable, came in to find that another fireman was moving it. With a loud crash a class 5, 4-6-0, dived into the pit and came to rest against the centre pivot. Immediately one of the boiler washout men put a hose on the boiler, as the firebox crown was partly exposed, while his mate dropped the fire. The derailment had trapped several locomotives on so it was urgent to remove it. That took a lot of packing as we had to create a bed of old sleepers to lift the rear end of the locomotive over the pit edge. I worked on that derailment and the clear up for three days.

One rescue that could have been challenging was of a 6P Jubilee at a colliery where the track had given way, with the result that the locomotive was some distance from sound track. We quickly got the crane rigged and applied some lift to restrain it and at this point I learned a clever trick. Lengths of old rail were laid on their sides with the flanges in the webs of the rail so as to spread the load while the wheels kept the rails to rough gauge. It worked like a charm, and with a quick pull from our locomotive, plus the Jubilee’s own power, it was back beside the track and swiftly re-railed. Of course it snowed the whole time, not ending until we finished, and then as could be expected the sun came out. I used this trick in later-life to the amazement of the local staff. The breakdown train had a well appointed riding van, looked after by a fitters mate, and there was always a good supply of tea and food on hand.

On the way to a derailment the breakdown train had absolute priority, but on the way back it was zero priority, so we had some long runs at slow speed. The breakdown team had a card school which did not care how long we took, and I learned both whist and cribbage on the slow rides home. One, rather annoying, incident happened near the end of my time there which when, owing to the construction of a fuelling point for diesel locomotives, the domestic water supply was cut off. Consequently we had to wash up under the overflow of a steam locomotive injector. Afterwards the steam and water had to be turned off, which meant climbing back into the cab using the dirty handrails, requiring one to wear clean gloves.

One unusual job that came my way was the removal of nameplates off withdrawn locomotives. The bolts were countersunk and would spin, making removal difficult until we found by chance that if you over-tightened them the bolts would snap.

The best part was the week allocated to riding on locomotives, we were supposed to stay on the local patch but soon found out that no-one cared, and indeed it was sort of an initiative test. So on the Wednesday I took a ‘Black 5’ to Leeds where I learned a trick to sort an injector that would not pick up. This was to block the overflow with a rag and the sole of your boot before blowing steam back into the tender to clear the any obstruction in the water flow, it worked a treat. Then I went over the Settle and Carlisle on a “Peak”, what fabulous scenery! By lunch time I was at Carlisle Upperby shed where I asked the Running Foreman if there were any Big Lizzies (commonly known as Duchesses) going south.

“No why?” he asked, so I told him what I was doing. “I need power for the London meat train so I can arrange one, go find (4)6254 and sit on her, the crew will be along,” he replied.

Sure enough the crew were happy to see me as the driver loved the ‘Big Lizzies’ and he was expecting a class 5, 4-6-0. Suffice to say we were an hour early at Preston, where I was left in charge of the locomotive, and one and half hours early at Crewe, where a Britannia replaced 46254, and I headed back to Derby.

On Friday I went to Manchester on a Class 5, 4-6-0 (where we met a bucket of bricks hanging off a bridge at diesel cab window height) and on to Preston on another Class 5 (pelted with bricks near Bolton) where I spied a northbound freight with a Britannia ‘Pacific’. I introduced myself and we soon set off northward at leisurely pace. We were put inside at Carnforth and re-crewed, and the new fireman upon seeing me headed for the brakevan so I was left to fire all by myself.

I do not remember much of the trip as I was too busy keeping both the fire and the water up. However I do remember that we had big coal so I had to climb up into the tender to break some into smaller lumps. While I was up there I fortuitously noticed an approaching bridge and barely had time to jump down. I also remember dipping the troughs at Dillicar, which was first time I had done it by myself. After we were over the top of Shap my principal concerns were keeping the water level up and a fire covering the grate were. At Carlisle Upperby I headed to the station and went back to Derby on the cushions, tired but happy. I must confess that I used the excuse that I was training to get many footplate rides and no-one ever challenged me, especially after they saw you could fire.

While posted to ‘7 shop’, where I had to clock on and off as well as collect my pay, I was attached to the Engine Gang in the Diesel Finishing shop. This shop was built away from the general group of shops in what had been the works yard, incorporating an old pit road known as the stone pit. Luckily this was a regular depth pit rather than the shallow pits in ‘7 Shop’, which had been the paint shop as originally built and consequently not intended for heavy maintenance. The finishing shop had a crane, a couple of side shops used for materials, and heavy tool storage and a washbasin. Everyone had an old tool locker from a steam locomotive as their tool box / break seat. The finishing shop became “home” to me for about a year.

The principal activities were the removal and refitting of the power units into locomotives undergoing repair. Our gang had the responsibility to strip all the mechanical connections from the engine; unbolt it, lift it out, prepare the locomotive to receive the new unit, install it, bolt it down, check the alignment, and reconnect all the mechanical services. Other gangs removed the roof while the electricians dealt with the electrical connections (however at this distance in time I must admit the fitters dismantled the electrical equipment, as otherwise we would have to wait for hours for them to do thirty minutes work). As an apprentice I was assigned to one of the fitters, a young man not long “out of his time” and as such we had an excellent relationship. Stripping is stripping and the main thing to remember was to ensure that all parts were identified and the re-usable fastenings were placed in the appropriate containers.

Rebuilding the mechanical systems however posed other problems, for instance the water cooling system had a thermostatic valve made of cast brass with tapped (threaded) holes. The problem was that the pipe work was assembled from one end when built, but when we broke the pipe work runs they ‘sprung’, meaning that the pipe flanges were no longer in alignment with the valve. As there were three, six inch pipes connecting them it was a challenge and it seemed that was one of our specialties, various techniques learned in boiler mounting were employed and generally we could make the connections in about an hour. I have to admit that I never enjoyed re-fitting the floor plates and tried hard to avoid the task.

I made a good impression, I think it was as I had worked on power unit overhaul, and one job that came our way was to refit the gasket in a crankcase door. The guys would start at one place and then work around, but the material was like a big rubber band which would stretch and form a loop. However I knew that you needed to start at one end and put a short length in, then do the same at the other end, constantly dividing the lengths by inserting short sections at the mid points. Soon the whole length had been fitted without any loops forming. The engine rooms of ‘Peaks’ (class 45) were cramped but by comparison the engine rooms of the class 24 and 25s were spacious as the power units were only one bank of cylinders and were much easier to work on.

Another unpleasant job was disconnecting the sump drain valve (after the sump had been drained). This was located on the underside of the floor pan, in an access hole in the fuel tank. It was dirty and had restricted access, and was usually done before the engine came into the shop as there was not the facility to handle the drained oil in the finishing shop. Later, after an oil spill, we found that the pit drained directly into the River Derwent, and the works got fined for the pollution from the oil spill. Often the disconnection was done in ‘7 shop’ where the shallow pits made both gaining access and the subsequent work difficult, as one was forced to be a contortionist.

I was thusly engaged one day when a locomotive was pushed into the shop on an adjoining road and parked. The shunt loco departed, the shop doors closed and people started work in preparation to lift it off its bogies. As the shop crane approached the vibration caused the locomotive to start rolling towards the shop doors and as the usual hue and cry went up to warn people to get clear the bay foreman ran up, rapidly climbing into the cab. He started to wind on the handbrake, but as the locomotive was about to be lifted it had been disconnected, and he was still winding as the 100 plus tons hit the shop doors. The door was demolished with a deafening crash and the wreckage, falling onto the rails, stopped the locomotive.

As an apprentice looking after the tools was an important job, but horseplay was still common. One day a group of us rushing back to the finishing shop, each with a sack truck loaded with tools, started to race each other. However as we rounded the corner disaster struck as a wheel came off one of the trucks, and we all went down with tools everywhere. Needless to say the fitters were not amused and insisted that we double check each box. Rushing made us late for lunch that day.

Occasionally, if there were delays in the Machine Shop overhaul line, we stripped the power unit in the shop. On one occasion we even did a “light” repair working perched on the side of a power unit, which was interesting to say the least. However it did give me ideas that I was able to put into effect after I became an ‘erector 1’ in August 1964.

May 1964 saw the visit of the Duke of Edinburgh to the works as part of the celebrations for the opening of the Railway Technical Centre. For weeks before his visit an army of painters were busy repainting anything that could be seen from the route, which was also cleared up, with a lot of items moved into areas off tour (like the finishing shop) while displays of various activities thought to be interesting to the Duke were set up. On the appointed day we were detailed where to stand. One thing that amused me that day was that all railway lines, even if disused, were highly polished by teams of men with grinders and emery pads.

As the Duke came around he espied our group who were, as befitted our work location, rather dirty and oily. Upon seeing us he headed in our direction.

“I see you men are hard working, where do you work?” he asked.

“In 7 shop sir,” one man replied.

“Not on my tour I expect” he said and then he stood in front of me. “Young man if you ever get the chance, go to Canada and ride the train across the country, Elizabeth and I had a wonderful time on that train.”

“Yes sir,” I replied and he nodded and walked off. The first time I rode 'The Canadian' I thought of him often.

At this point with my apprenticeship completed I should mention some of the other apprenticeship activities.

In the spring of 1962 a group of apprentices formed (with management approval) a Model Engineering Society. We were allowed to use the Works Training School on Saturday mornings and we acquired the use of a locomotive. We ran the miniature train at various events with all profits going to the Railway Children’s Home. During my time as an apprentice I was the society’s treasurer.

There was an active Apprentice Association and, again with management approval, visits to various facilities were arranged. Other locomotive manufacturers we visited included Brush Engineering at Loughborough; Vulcan Foundry in Newton le Willows, Lancashire; Swiss Locomotive and Machine Works, and Sulzer, both located in Wintertur, Switzerland. Non-railway sites visited included Dema Glass in Chesterfield, a coal mine in Ripley (if I remember correctly), the Ford plant at Dagenham, the Willington Power Station, a steelworks in Sheffield, and a ship building yard on the Clyde.

Engineering Apprentices were also expected to act as tour guides. Often these groups were composed of “trainspotters” who were only interested in locomotive numbers, any numbers. Removed boilers were always branded with their number, as well as the locomotive they came off, and these numbers were enthusiastically written down. A peculiar challenge was that we had to be out of our boiler suits during the tour, so when on dirty jobs it was hard to keep clean when you had a tour later in the day.