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RECONNAISSANCE WITH A CAMERA
BONZO BOWS OUT DISGRACEFULLY
Back in the 1950s my spotting pal, Bonzo (see 'Crewe' page) was the only person who could have persuaded me to risk life and limb plus other unmentionables as we scaled perimeter walls (embedded with broken glass) to gain unlawful entry in to engine sheds. They called it 'bunking' - today's equivalent of shed bashing - which, apart from the occasional foray into petty villainy on Mischief Night, was the closest I ever came to juvenile delinquency.
With hindsight, our behaviour was more impish than evil - something of a jolly jape, if you like - yet the blatant way we trespassed on railway property was no less disconcerting for that. Out of all the sheds we visited in the Leeds area, the main target on our agenda was the London Midland Region's motive power depot at Holbeck. The shed was formerly shed-coded 20A, until it came under the auspices of the North Eastern Region in 1957, and it was subsequently re-coded 55A, along with its sub-depots bearing suffixes B-G in the regional reshuffle. There was something 'spiritual' about Holbeck, though from the outside it was a forlorn-looking building dwarfed by a huge concrete coaling tower that stood like a monument in the shed yard. But the shed's inner sanctum was a different story - a standard Midland Railway 'square' roundhouse containing two turntables, each with radiating stalls chock-full of engines standing cheek to jowl like a herd of thirsty hippos around a watering hole. The air was usually heavy with smoke, hot oil and steam, which somehow gave the cathedral of steam a wonderful sense that everything had gradually evolved; certainly it had none of the instant mix-and-match that came with the headlong rush to dieselisation in the Sixties.
The only means of gaining entry to Holbeck - and escape, for that matter - was by climbing through the cast iron window frames at the back, a hazardous scramble for anyone shorter than twelve foot-six, but the rules of engagement were simple - speed and military precision - because if a bunk was carried out with lightning speed, then the element of surprise usually tipped the balance in our favour over the beleaguered shed staff.
As for the rest of the bunks we did? In every place we visited, the sheds were usually hidden among the maze of inner-city Victorian back streets, where the local women gossiped over back yard walls and children played in cobbled streets, lined by rows of terraced houses boasting spotlessly clean doorsteps painted in red cardinal polish. I was still a naïve youngster in short pants, so the dingy back alleys could be scary places to walk alone, for just around the next corner existed an omnipresent danger of stumbling into a multi-cultural community where the residents wandered around in clothes that looked suspiciously like pajamas to me, and in my youthful imagination - a neurotic obsession with flesh-eating cannibals - the awful fear arose that if I lingered too long I might end up in a cooking pot. A mere glance from a black face was sufficient to cause long bouts of involuntary flatulence: a condition brought on by one's nerves going out of kilter. (continued below)
(Above-Below) The view from Nineveh Road overlooking Holbeck shed yard was a popular venue for weekend spotters in steam days. The shed (20A) came under the auspices of the North Eastern Region in 1957 and was subsequently re-coded 55A, along with its sub-depots bearing suffixes B-G in the regional reshuffle. Here, Class 8F No 48083 trundles empty flat wagons through Engine Shed Junction towards Stourton. In the shed yard, Stanier 'Black Fives' are accompanied by a pair of Class 25 diesels and a solitary Class 03 diesel shunter with its distinctive striped cab. The shed closed its doors to steam on September 30th 1967 and the buildings and No 1 type concrete coaling tower was demolished in 1970 - the structure had two bunkers that could hold 300 tons of coal and was able to service two engines at a time. For close-up views of the shed yard click on link to Railway Modellers' Page 19 (Below) This view was taken from the former LNW viaduct on 6th July 1982 during an ASLEF dispute. The scene shows the fuelling point (built on the site of the coaling stage) and the diesel maintenance depot (on the extreme right) containing two repair shops with 200ft tracks and a large overhead crane. In the foreground, a variety of diesel locomotives, including Class 08s, 31s, 40s and 45 'Peaks' - it's a far cry from shed's allocation of famous steam classes, which included 'Claughtons', unrebuilt 'Patriots', Stanier 'Jubilees' and rebuilt 'Scots', BR Standard 'Britannias' and Gresley A3s. Sadly, all are now but just a memory.
I wouldn't have dared 'bunk' a shed without Bonzo. Not only was he two years older than me, the success of our spotting trips was all down to his organizational skills. He had an uncanny knack of following the street directions in his well-thumbed edition of Aidan Fuller's 'British Locomotive Shed Directory'. But his biggest fault, if I had to find one, is that he liked to lead from the rear. On almost every bunk we did, I started panicking at the sight of the target shed still some distance away, but the fear factor barely registered with Bonzo until the very last second. Then, just as we were about to go in, he lost his bottle - and, come to think of it, I led the way every time...
'You go first,' he'd say in a querulous squeak.
'Why me?' I asked.
'Because I bags go last,' he insisted, 'It's daft us both getting caught...'
I could always tell when Bonzo was nervous - he was letting me go first? What he really meant, of course is, if anyone was going to get caught, then it wasn't going to be him. Oh, such a cool-dude - out to save his own neck every time. But one day, he did get caught. I was there when it happened. Call it a spotter's sixth sense if you like, but for some reason the idea of bunking Holbeck didn't seem right that day. Inside the roundhouse, the engines wheezed smoke and hissed steam, but I heard none of it. With an intensity that blocked out every other sound, I had a strange feeling that someone was watching us - 'I'm not going in,' I said adamantly...
'You scaredy-cat!' he sneered, and hauled himself through the broken window.
Oh dear, what happened next...was, well - creepy. First I heard running, then a man's voice called out - 'Hey you! Come 'ere, yer little bugger…' I heard a scuffle, a low-voiced murmur, then Bonzo started whimpering - 'Who me? I didn't break any windows. No Sir, it was broken already. What was I doing? Well, I was...I was sort of...I was…'
At that point, his voice tapered off into helpless stammering. And what did I do? I did what anyone else would have done in the circumstances - I ran like the clappers…
...I raced through the streets of Holbeck like a headless chicken until I reached our prearranged meeting place under the railway bridge on Globe Road. An hour later, a sheepish Bonzo turned up nursing a couple of bruises. The one on his arm looked suspiciously like a Chinese burn to me, but Bonzo was soon back to his old nonchalant-self - 'Me get caught?' he said with typical aplomb - 'You've got be kidding. I gave 'im the slip.'
Really? It sounded more like unconditional surrender to me, but I hadn't the nerve to tell him. For weeks afterwards he sported his bruises like battle honours - and, believe it or not, he actuallymeant it, smug sod - and not for the first time, I realised that Bonzo had an absurdly inflated opinion of himself...
As it turned out, that was the last time we went train spotting together, because Bonzo changed from being an indomitable self-confident 'Fonz'-type character into an irascible, boorish teenager with greasy hair, introspective mood swings and his voice broke into a manful 'oink'. He left school and got a job as a conductor on the buses, and I rarely saw him again, thank goodness!...thank goodness, because he had obviously outgrown me, which, with hindsight, I had seen coming for quite some time. Being two years his junior made all the difference at that age.
(Above) Light and shade streams through the roof of the roundhouse as a Class B1 moves off the turntable in June 1962. (Below) Colour photographs of old steam days are quite rare. Although most railway photographers dabbled with colour film at one time or another, the majority abandoned the idea of using it regularly because of disappointing results. In those days, colour shots had to be taken on very slow film by modern standards, requiring long exposures. And film was not cheap, which is why many photographers stuck with black & white film. Back in the 1960s, Bill Wright opted for using Kodachrome 11 film whenever possible. The colour rendition of Kodak was always very good, with hardly any graining. Sometimes he used Kodachrome X for the higher speed, but this was more grainy and had a slight purple hue to it. He did try Agfa film once but didn't like it at all. I've selected two of Bill's beautiful studies of Holbeck's murky interior - more of Bill's colour shots can be found on Page 40, along with a link to his Flickr site. Photos © D Hey, Bill Wright
(Above) Incompatible bedfellows! A typical scene during the transition from steam shows 'Peak' class No D77 Royal Irish Fusilier and an unidentified 'Black Five' standing side-by-side in the shed yard at Holbeck in March 1965. For the record, 1965 saw the number of main line diesels increase by 353 to 2,811, whereas BR's fleet of steam locomotives was reduced by 1,986 to 2,987. In that same year, 92% of the total coach train miles was operated by diesel and electric traction as against 87% in 1964. Click on picture to visit Holbeck Shed Page 39. Photo: B Lister
(Above-Below) In the days before Chopper bikes became all the rage, boys rode trusty two-wheelers with saddles fixed way too high for short legs! My records show this shot was taken at 1/60sec @ f8 using a Kodachrome 2 (KR 135 for Daylight) on September 14th 1963, and gives some idea of the diesel facilities on the left, along with the entrance to steam roundhouse on the right. Not long ago a publisher asked if I had a colour shot of 'Peaks' at Holbeck for the front cover of a book, but changed his mind when he saw the boys in the foreground - 'Why didn't you tell them to shift?' he said accusingly - 'They spoil a half-decent picture!' Oh dear, I didn't like telling him that I asked them to stand there! As the saying goes, one man's junk is another man's treasure, and not everyone shares the same view on what constitutes a 'half-decent' photo. Still it's interesting to note the boy's short-back 'n' sides, woolly pullovers, short trousers and knee-length socks (half-rolled down) which was pretty much the fashion for an archetypal train spotter in the early Sixties - the decade didn't start 'swinging' until 1964. (Below) Fast-forward to 30th September 1967 - the last day of steam at Holbeck - and the shed's celebrity 'Jubilee' class No 45562 Alberta (now sporting the diagonal warning stripe on the cab side indicating the locomotive was not allowed to work on the electrified part of the WCML due to clearance difficulties beneath the overhead catenary) is awaiting its next turn of duty...probably a steam special? Doubtless someone will know Alberta's movements during its final days at Holbeck...
(Above-Below) One of the best ways of producing a technical artwork is by copying the detail from a photograph. But that raises the question of who owns the copyright - the artist or the photographer? For instance, this fine study by Brian Lister of ex-LMS steam inside the roundhouse at Holbeck would make an excellent subject for a painting. Perhaps adding a few more engines in steam might improve the composition, but I doubt if Brian's photograph could be bettered. Taken in July 1967 (in the same year the North Eastern Region was absorbed by the ER) the shed had less than three months to go before closing its doors to steam. 'Jubilee' class No 45568 Western Australia shares the company of three Black 5s around one of the turntables. (Below) Atmospheric shot of Engine Shed Junction showing a Thompson B1 heading an unidentified train to Leeds (photo taken with a 3X Orange filter) on 17th May 1963.
(Below) Another fine study by Brian Lister of LMS steam inside the roundhouse at Holbeck in July 1967. On the left is Ivatt Mogul No 43076, one of 162 locomotives in the class. They were not the best looking locomotives with their very high footplate and stark front ends. More in keeping with LMS styling is the Stanier tapered-boilered Class '8F' (total built 849) and the unbiquous 'Black 5' (total built 842). In this view, No 48158 and No 44943 await their next turn of duty. Photos © B Lister
(Above) Had it not been for the announcement of the Modernisation Plan in 1955, the emphasis of which was to replace steam with diesel and electric traction, the 'Britannias' may well have had as long and distinguished careers as some of the 'Big Four' engines they had succeeded. Alas it was not to be. Displaced by diesels on the premier expresses on the Western and Eastern Regions, the entire 55 members of the class were concentrated on the London Midland Region. Withdrawal began in 1966 with No 70007 Couer-de-Lion and 70043 Lord Kitchener condemned in June and August respectively, a mere 14 years after their introduction. The final batch of ten Britannias Nos 70045-54 were coupled to a larger 9 ton capacity BR1D tender which gave a smoother airflow around the footplate than with the conventional tenders with inset sides. The last of the class, No 70054 Dornoch Firth, is being prepared for 'Thames-Clyde' express duty. Photo EA Wood-D Hey collection.
(Above-Below) Before the first 10 pilot scheme 2,300hp Type 4 diesels Nos D1-D10 had been completed, the BTC placed orders for a further 183 members of the class - a hasty decision, but as it turned out the 'Peaks' proved to be one of the more successful locomotives in the fleet. The production 'Peaks' were uprated to 2,500hp by use of charge air cooling, which gave rise to three genetic types of basically similar locomotives - TOPS Class 44 (pilot scheme) and the Class 45 and 46 production locomotives. The 183 production 'Peak' Type 4s were similar in appearance to the pilot scheme locomotives except for front end variations when the gangway doors and aged white headcode discs were abandoned in favour of route indicator panels. This line up at Holbeck show No D152 on the left with its panel centrally placed, while the earlier production 'Peaks' Nos D26 and D29 appear with divided headcode boxes either side of the nose. The reporting number are: 1M86 southbound 'Thames-Clyde Express', 1S49 10.25 Leeds-Glasgow and 0L50 light engine Leeds Division. Note also that Nos D26 and D29 are sporting a Holbeck 55A shed code on their rectangular warning panels. In the shot below, No D30 (later Class 45/0 No 45029) has its shed code plate painted out in yellow as an additional precaution.
(Above) Britain's city skylines have changed dramatically over the years, and evidence can be found in this view of Holbeck shed yard (taken from the roof of an adjacent block of flats) looking towards Leeds City station in the right background. One day I'll get round to printing a full negative of this shot which clearly show the remains of the shed's two turntable pits filled in with earth and rubble. In the background, the city's once crowning glory - the Town Hall - is now dwarfed by high-rise office blocks, and in the foreground a Class 31 heads an unfitted freight of mineral wagons (complete with an obligatory brake van) past the shed yard towards Stourton.
(Above-Below) By the end of the Beeching era the rail network had been reduced to a skeleton of its former self, and disillusioned train spotters didn't have to go too far out of their way to find evidence of BR's decline. The view from the train window became untidily depressing, with hundreds of acres of once-proud Victorian railway buildings and abandoned sidings left to rot. It was almost as if station closures and the removal of track was BR's major occupation during the Sixties. But the misery didn't end there. Rationalisation continued well into the Eighties. When BR abandoned semaphore signalling on the former Midland Railway south of Leeds, I tried to photograph all the signal boxes along the route before they too vanished from the scene. Sadly, by the time I arrived at Holbeck on 1st November 1983, the signal box (Engine Shed Junction) had long since gone and rationalisation of the junction was well underway - it looked like a giant baseboard with bits of Hornby track scattered all over the place! Comparisons can be made with the busy scene (above) taken on 17th May 1963. A Class 4F heads light engine to Stourton, whilst a pair of Class Black 5s, a 'Jubilee' and Class A3 brew up in the shed yard, along with an emerging 'Peak' class. In the background a Trans-Pennine unit crosses the viaduct with a Liverpool-Hull service.
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