All of the engines at Redhill were “N” Class. That means they were old and because they no longer received a good clean they were covered in compounded film of grime over black paint. One part of the engine was cleaned occasionally, that was its number. Monday to Friday an engine would arrive at the depot for water and a mess break for the driver and fireman. They were from Reading (GWR). Their engine was usually a “Manor” Class. It was green in colour, but it wasn’t just the green that made it stand out like a sore thumb when in the depot. No, it was clean and shiny. It was obvious that the cleaners at the depot in Reading actually cleaned engines.
Redhill’s neighbouring depot on the Southern Region was Tonbridge. They did have cleaners but I don’t think a great deal of engine cleaning took place. Their engines were more pleasing to the eye though because they were the more modern BR Standard Tank engines. It wasn’t just the looks of the engines but also how they were maintained that gave them the thumbs up over the “N” Class. After the engines had been on a service run clinker would have developed on the base of the firebox. This needed to be removed as it prevents air circulating through the firebox. No oxygen, no fire. With the “N” Class this required the burning coal to be shovelled over to one side of the firebox, the clinker revealed would then need to be broken up and then removed with long shovels and discarded into pits by the side of the engine. Once cleaned, the fire was pushed over to the cleaned side and then the clinker removed from that side. Fire levelled out and off we go again. That was hard work. With the Standard Tank engines though it was much easier. Yes, the fire needed to be pushed over to one side of the firebox, but the revealed clinker was removed by a modern method of using rocker bars. Each side of the firebox had rockers and by inserting the bar and pushing it up and down the grill of the fire box swivelled round and back, breaking up the clinker and allowing it to drop into the pit under the engine. Both sides needed cleaning of course, but it was so much easier and quicker. No long bars or shovels.
Oh how things can change so quickly. After about 2 Months at the depot our Shed Master retired and was replaced by a newly appointed University Graduate. This was a change of the times. New position. New ideas. Guess what? He wanted “Clean Engines”. It couldn’t be done overnight of course and I couldn’t do it on my own. He managed to get help from Tonbridge depot who sent 3 or 4 cleaners each day to Redhill to help me clean up the engines. Boy was that hard work. Buckets and buckets of paraffin and tons of rags were used in an attempt to clean up years of encrusted filth. Never mind, only a couple of Months before I was 16 and I could apply to become a fireman or passed cleaner (fireman yet to be appointed). I nearly didn’t make it. My service was nearly terminated. In other words I was nearly sacked. This is what happened.
It was about 3pm. A fireman asked for my help. He had just cleaned the fire, loaded coal and topped up with water. The driver was making the tea and he asked me to set the points as he needed to put the engine into the shed. I jumped onto the footplate and we moved off down to the last set of hand points before you accessed the main line. In other words it was the set of points accessing all roads into the shed. I jumped off and when the front wheels had cleared the points I shouted “Stop” which he did. I then pulled the points over, but I hadn’t checked them. I got back up onto the footplate and we started moving towards entry into the shed. “Bonk, Bonk, Bonk, Bonk. We were off the road. In railway terms it is known as being “On old England”. We were leading up to the rush hour and this de-railed engine now blocked all roads out of the shed. I was late home that day. Trains were delayed. I joined in with waiting passengers moaning about delays.
The following morning I was called into the Shed Masters office expecting my cards.
“Was it you who pulled the points?” he asked.
“Yes” I replied.
“Don’t do it again” he said
Pheeeew. What a let off. Only another 49 ½ years to go.
That’s it for this blog . Next it’s on to being a Fireman
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