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A Bad Week for Saltley by Syd Williams
Whilst shed accidents involving locomotives occur from time
to time they are comparitively rare and usually mean
embarassment for the causers rather than serious or fatal
injury. The usual result is often illustrated by a
photograph of bystanders at the turntable pit bearing a "
How do we get the loco out?" or " Who's going to tell the
shed foreman?" expression.
The larger the shed the more engine movements and
statistically the larger sheds should have more incidents
but even so the numbers are generally low. There was,
however, an extraordinary week at Saltley in the early
fifties recounted by Terry Essery in his biography 'Firing
Days at Saltley' and I am indebted to the publishers for
giving permission to reproduce the story.
It all started when a Senior Driver nudged the shed wall
with a Class 5 as he was moving the locomotive prior to
leaving Number Three shed. He admitted to an error of
judgement and apart from putting a bulge into the aforesaid
shed wall, which was the one common to Number One and Number
Three sheds, little damage was done.
However this for some reason set the scene for a jinx to
reign over the Depot. Not to be left out of things a
quota (disposal) man effectively punched a hole clean
through the canal side wall of Number Three shed with an 8F
and deposited about two tons of assorted masonry into a
twelve ton open wagon which was conveniently parked on the
track outside. At least this reduced the clearing up
time. The following day some marshalling men got
carried away and a dead engine which they were moving for
the fitters managed to run off on its own and constructed a
neat (and now new) third exit in Number One shed.
Getting into the spirit of competition, a Passed Cleaner who
really had no business to be driving at the time,
demolished, with the aid of an 8F another section of wall in
Number Three shed, this time adjacent to the diesel oil
storage tank. Meanwhile the men out in the shed yard,
intolerant of being outdone by their colleagues inside, tore
the side out of a Class 5 tender which was standing foul on
one of the disposal pits. The day's destructioun was
rounded off by a substantial head-on collision between a
Black 5, which was being prepared for a Carlisle job and
which had been backed under the hopper to top up with coal,
and a 4P tank engine manned by an eager disposal crew who
failed to realise that the Class 5 having coaled would be
coming back up the arrival road. Extensive damage was
caused to both engines.
The campaign to deplete Saltley's locomotive stud was
re-established a day later when a Super D and a 3F, which
were coupled together for the convenience of a disposal
driver, ran away unmanned down to the stop block at the end
of the ashpits. The combined weight clouted this
formidable and ancient structure with sufficient violence
cause extensive damage to both engines' buffer beams and
frames.
The climax occurred at Friday lunchtime. One of the
quota team was disposing a Compound 4-4-0 and, whilst
waiting to enter Number Two shed, had filled the boiler to a
greater degree than was strictly wise. This also had
the effect of reducing the steam pressure to little over
100psi. The steam brake on a Compound is notoriously
ineffective particularly when steam pressure is low.
Perhaps the designers, in their wisdom, envisaged the
engines being used only on trains with a continuous braking
system. Another awkward thing about Compounds was that
they often tended not to respond to an initial opening of
the regulator and there is a considerable delay before the
wheels start to rotate. Moreover, 24 turns of a very
stiff reversing screw from full forward to full reverse gear
(or vice versa) preclude any swift change in direction
should the need arise to help out the lack of braking
power. All these factors can add up to a very lethal
combination when trying to operate in an emergency.
Whatever the reason, the Compound was given a good handful
of of regulator when it seemed reluctant to move off the
turntable. Then it did move with a rush, with the 7
foot driving wheels slipping violently. All that
momentum could not be arrested in the few yards available
and the result was that the engine, still travelling at a
fair speed, jumped the pit stops and crashed tender first
with terrific force into the shed wall which divided it from
the main office. So great was the impact that a
section of wall roughly the size of the tender exploded into
the office and some portions of thick brickwork flew right
across the room and through the windows on the opposite
side Only a few minutes earlier members of the office
staff were working in this area and, had they not just
retired for lunch, would cetainly not have lived to see
another day. The damage took some time to repair, and
being next to the enginemen's lobby no member of the
footplate staff could fail to see the extent of the
devastation or realise the possible consequences.
This must have had a sobering effect on the shed staff being
shaken by the near miss and possible loss of life.
They then took much more care as no incidents occurred for
some time afterwards. The jinx had disappeared and
things went back to normal. From then on the number
of incidents were within the bounds of reason for a motive
power depot the size of Saltley were reported.
The interior of Saltley MPD in 1966. Photo - MLS
Collection.
Last update April 2018. Comments
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