The iron road is a hard road and the work is never ending, Working night and day on the iron way - We’re the boys who keep the engines rolling.
Engine driver’s got to be in the blood for a start. If it’s not in your blood to stand the erratic hours you’ll never stand the pace. You see, as a young lad at 15 years of age you’re prepared for all this, and the railway life, to my mind, to the proper railwayman, it always comes first. Well, I started when I were, well I was just turned 14 when I started. You just went to your work with your, your chuck under your arm and that was that, you were brought up to it, and that’s why today you’ll get – the, the, the proper driver, he thinks nothing of going to London and booking off because railways, it’s in his blood.
The old railwayman, it was a tradition, it was part of your life, it went through… railways went through the back of your spine like Blackpool went through rock.
You sign on at the loco shed, they put you through the cleaning, In your dungarees, cleaning Super D’s, you’re a – Sweeper-upper, brewer-upper, shovel-slinger, spanner-bringer, steam-raiser, fire-dropper, general-cook and bottle-washer, learning how to keep ‘em rolling. Hey lad will you fetch me a bucket of red oil for a red tail lamp. Charlie! Hey Charlie! On your toes – clean that muck out of number 5, Look alive there, Get weaving – Where’ve you been for that oil, Arabia? See the job on number 3 they’ve got to strip her. Ginger! Leave the job you’re working on - help the fitter – Hold the light, pass the wrench, a one-inch spanner up the bench, a one-inch reamer. Hey cleaner. Do this, do that, get me this, get me that, rush job on number 8, working late, got a date, I’ll never make it. You’ll have to break it. Just a bloody skivvy, that’s me. Two years, five years, ten years, fifteen years a cleaner!
Oh, ah, when the work interferes with the girls, well you give up the work you see, aha.
I started on the railway when I was 15, and I was 32 before I was made a registered book fireman.
When you’ve done your time at the loco shed and had your share of trouble, On the open plate you’re the driver’s mate and you’re married to a lousy shovel.
Come on let’s have a little bit of hush in here. Come on! Come on, I have to get up in the morning not same as you, resting all night. 8188. Old tools, don’t mind myself, I’m in good condition. Not been resting all night… Bottle of oil. I’ll bring the other one when I’ve used this. That all right? Yes. OK and how do you feel? Slept very well. Very well, you look it and all.
It’s check the water, check the tools and chuck the blooming coal in, Give the gauge a wipe, check injector pipe, Now it’s swing your shovel at the double, give her rock, watch the clock, steam-raising, sweat-running, back-aching, bone-shaking – Fireman, fireman, keep her rolling. You know, when I first started firing we had what they call now the well tender – you had to shovel the coal right off the level of the footplate, and it were real hard work because you had to raunge down with your back to get hold of your coal to get it into’t firebox. But then they brought married man’s tender out. Oh and wasn’t that a dream – you hadn’t got bend as far, you could just shovel t’coal and into’t firebox it went… And By Gad all’t married men took another lease on life.
You bend your back almost double. Feed that coal-hungry fire, swing that shovel, that’s a fireman’s trade. You’ve got your long-handled shovel. Three and a half feet of sweat-polished wood and a narrow steel blade.
Swing your long-handled shovel. Hear that shovel ring. Swing your steel-bladed shovel. Hear the fire sing. Give us some rock, a round at a time, party your signal alo