Old Timer
Established Member
Many, many, many years ago when OldTimer was but a young thing, signals were suspended at the top of long posts and were lit by oil lamps.
Each week a special man known as the Lampman (or sometimes "Lampie") would visit each signalbox and refill and service each oil light, which was then replaced in the lamp case behind the mechanical arm. The oil lamp burnt continuously.
Sometimes however a lamp would go out for some reason, and it was necessary for the On Call man to undertake the onerous job of replacing the lamp. Usually the lamps went out during storms or strong winds.
Many of these signals were at the top of very tall signal posts so that the signal could be seen some good distance away.
Here is a tale from those long ago days.
Picture the scene.................
Lincolnshire........
One cold, dark winter's evening.........
The temperature starts to fall, as does the barometer and soon after dark a typical vicious Lincolnshire storm sets in.........
At home OT (albeit much, much younger....and more subtle of joints, as we shall see) settles himself comfortably in his armchair with a good book..........None of this marriage business for OT in those days !!!
Outside the howling wind pays testament to the awful long night that lays ahead.
7pm, and the doorbell rings...........
Oh dear one is On Call.....................
At the door stands a bedraggled taxi-driver. Already the short distance to the front door has left him wet through.
"Message from Lincoln, Mate.....Up Home is out at P********....Need someone to go and light it. Lampman won't go and signalman says its too dangerous" say the apparition, reading from his wet piece of paper."
"Ohhh, right..."
"Any message to go back, Mate ?"
"No, only to tell them I am on my way...."
"Sooner you than me Mate, blasted awful night...look at me ...I don't get paid enough for this you know !!!...."
The location concerned has the distinction of having the tallest signals on the whole of the GN/GE Joint Line. Climbing the signal in question, the highest on the line is no mean feat in the sunshine of a still calm day.....to do so in a storm amounts almost to a deathwish !
Old Timer looks at the typhoon pouring down as the taxi-driver runs to his car......Oh dear !!!
The journey to P********* is accomplished....There is hardly any traffic around tonight.....The locals know what is coming and are well settled at home.....Tonight belongs only to the railwayman.
Even the Police in Lincolnshire don't venture far on such nights unless really pushed, preferring the dry and warmth of their homes or local station in the bigger towns.
"Evening Signalman"
"Eeh up, Flower....You come to do my Home, then"
"Yes"
"Too dangerous for me, Mate........that's a bloody high signal....moves about a lot in the wind you know.....Very dangerous if you ask me"
Brilliant..........., I would prefer not to know that !
"Anything about ?"
"One on the Down out of Sleaford....expecting him 'On Line' soon....Nothing on the Up. Next one's the Passenger about 2000 out of the City....Connects out of the London at Newark"
"Righto, I better go and take a look"
"Right, Flower....How long should I give it if you don't come back???"
"Give me 20 minutes, that should be OK"
"Righto, Flower.....Rather you than me....Bad night....Getting worse by the minute....You mind that signal....It's a big'un.....Moves a lot you know....I reckon its not safe myself......I wouldn't climb it even in the daytime........My mate says its going to fall over one of these days.............."
So OT sets out into the now very strong wind, and towards the lamp hut........Not a good night to die.......
The walk to the signal doesn't take long.
It is indeed a high signal..Local history has it that its the highest signal on the "Joint Line".....I cannot even see the arm.......And yes it is moving about in the wind.
Oh well, nothing for it....Better get climbing.
The secret of a quick lamp change is to carry the new one already lit up in one hand with the other holding the ladder. Now that is difficult on a summer's day. Tonight the wind has now set in strongly, and even on the first few rungs one can feel the signal swaying.....
Up above the stars are obliterated by thick black clouds....pouring forth torrents of rain.
In all my life I have never known such rain, such wind, such darkness......
I finally reach the top of the ladder.....Can I trust the hoop?...I don't have an option.....Gingerly I ease myself against the hoop.
Will it take my weight ?????
Yes, I think it will......
Looking down I cannot see the ground from 70 feet up. Up here all I can sense is the violent swaying of the signal, moving several feet....the creaking of metal and wood adding a certain 'frisson' to the procedings.
I reach out with my one free hand....the other is holding the new lamp inside my black mac....the heat from it now burning my clothes, my skin....
I take out the old lamp....Both hands now occupied....Slowly, oh so slowly I take out the new lamp....still alight.....I start to drop it into the case....BLOODY HELL....it's blown out !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Nothing for it but to descend....Down I go, two lamps in hand...risking certain death now if I miss my handhold.
Soon I am back on the ground.
I hear a rumble and suddenly out of the gloom appears a freight train......
In the warm cab you can see two men watching forward through the windscreens of the Class 40, .........desperately searching for the Starter. March men on their way to Doncaster....I don't envy them.........Several hours of constant peering into the darkness. Searching for the parafin lit signal....Their only defence against sudden death if they miss it and run into the train ahead.......
Twice more I go up that signal before I manage to drop the lamp in alight.
Each time the wind has grown stronger, the signal is moving more and more violently, creaking, crackling, groaning......................
"You back then, Flower ?"
"Yes"
"Here's a cup of tea, I think you deserve it. I wouldn't have done it....."
"Thanks"
"Hello, Doncaster Control ?...........Yes Flower........P****** here.....Yeah my Up Home's lit again......... Yes, yon Area Inspector did it.....Yeah I know, I told him.............Dodgy signal that tha knows.......I wouldn't have done it.....I reckon its not safe myself......I wouldn't climb it even in the daytime........My mate says its going to fall over one of these days..............Righto, Flower.....book it up at 2010...."
Soon afterwards the Up DMU came through, the Driver searching the night for the signal...little knowing the story of the lamp.....of the emotions and the cost in courage.
The following morning broke clear and sunny.
The Assistant Area Manager (Operating) walks in to the office.
"Morning, young'un"
"Morning, Guv"
"Hear you were at P******** last night?"
"Yes, Up Home went out"
"Yes...Bloody awful signal that, no-one wants to lamp that in the dark, let alone a storm...Good work !"
"Thanks, Guv'nor"
"Make sure you don't book too much overtime time....only a lamp out you know...."
He walks away smiling..........
Each week a special man known as the Lampman (or sometimes "Lampie") would visit each signalbox and refill and service each oil light, which was then replaced in the lamp case behind the mechanical arm. The oil lamp burnt continuously.
Sometimes however a lamp would go out for some reason, and it was necessary for the On Call man to undertake the onerous job of replacing the lamp. Usually the lamps went out during storms or strong winds.
Many of these signals were at the top of very tall signal posts so that the signal could be seen some good distance away.
Here is a tale from those long ago days.
Picture the scene.................
Lincolnshire........
One cold, dark winter's evening.........
The temperature starts to fall, as does the barometer and soon after dark a typical vicious Lincolnshire storm sets in.........
At home OT (albeit much, much younger....and more subtle of joints, as we shall see) settles himself comfortably in his armchair with a good book..........None of this marriage business for OT in those days !!!
Outside the howling wind pays testament to the awful long night that lays ahead.
7pm, and the doorbell rings...........
Oh dear one is On Call.....................
At the door stands a bedraggled taxi-driver. Already the short distance to the front door has left him wet through.
"Message from Lincoln, Mate.....Up Home is out at P********....Need someone to go and light it. Lampman won't go and signalman says its too dangerous" say the apparition, reading from his wet piece of paper."
"Ohhh, right..."
"Any message to go back, Mate ?"
"No, only to tell them I am on my way...."
"Sooner you than me Mate, blasted awful night...look at me ...I don't get paid enough for this you know !!!...."
The location concerned has the distinction of having the tallest signals on the whole of the GN/GE Joint Line. Climbing the signal in question, the highest on the line is no mean feat in the sunshine of a still calm day.....to do so in a storm amounts almost to a deathwish !
Old Timer looks at the typhoon pouring down as the taxi-driver runs to his car......Oh dear !!!
The journey to P********* is accomplished....There is hardly any traffic around tonight.....The locals know what is coming and are well settled at home.....Tonight belongs only to the railwayman.
Even the Police in Lincolnshire don't venture far on such nights unless really pushed, preferring the dry and warmth of their homes or local station in the bigger towns.
"Evening Signalman"
"Eeh up, Flower....You come to do my Home, then"
"Yes"
"Too dangerous for me, Mate........that's a bloody high signal....moves about a lot in the wind you know.....Very dangerous if you ask me"
Brilliant..........., I would prefer not to know that !
"Anything about ?"
"One on the Down out of Sleaford....expecting him 'On Line' soon....Nothing on the Up. Next one's the Passenger about 2000 out of the City....Connects out of the London at Newark"
"Righto, I better go and take a look"
"Right, Flower....How long should I give it if you don't come back???"
"Give me 20 minutes, that should be OK"
"Righto, Flower.....Rather you than me....Bad night....Getting worse by the minute....You mind that signal....It's a big'un.....Moves a lot you know....I reckon its not safe myself......I wouldn't climb it even in the daytime........My mate says its going to fall over one of these days.............."
So OT sets out into the now very strong wind, and towards the lamp hut........Not a good night to die.......
The walk to the signal doesn't take long.
It is indeed a high signal..Local history has it that its the highest signal on the "Joint Line".....I cannot even see the arm.......And yes it is moving about in the wind.
Oh well, nothing for it....Better get climbing.
The secret of a quick lamp change is to carry the new one already lit up in one hand with the other holding the ladder. Now that is difficult on a summer's day. Tonight the wind has now set in strongly, and even on the first few rungs one can feel the signal swaying.....
Up above the stars are obliterated by thick black clouds....pouring forth torrents of rain.
In all my life I have never known such rain, such wind, such darkness......
I finally reach the top of the ladder.....Can I trust the hoop?...I don't have an option.....Gingerly I ease myself against the hoop.
Will it take my weight ?????
Yes, I think it will......
Looking down I cannot see the ground from 70 feet up. Up here all I can sense is the violent swaying of the signal, moving several feet....the creaking of metal and wood adding a certain 'frisson' to the procedings.
I reach out with my one free hand....the other is holding the new lamp inside my black mac....the heat from it now burning my clothes, my skin....
I take out the old lamp....Both hands now occupied....Slowly, oh so slowly I take out the new lamp....still alight.....I start to drop it into the case....BLOODY HELL....it's blown out !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Nothing for it but to descend....Down I go, two lamps in hand...risking certain death now if I miss my handhold.
Soon I am back on the ground.
I hear a rumble and suddenly out of the gloom appears a freight train......
In the warm cab you can see two men watching forward through the windscreens of the Class 40, .........desperately searching for the Starter. March men on their way to Doncaster....I don't envy them.........Several hours of constant peering into the darkness. Searching for the parafin lit signal....Their only defence against sudden death if they miss it and run into the train ahead.......
Twice more I go up that signal before I manage to drop the lamp in alight.
Each time the wind has grown stronger, the signal is moving more and more violently, creaking, crackling, groaning......................
"You back then, Flower ?"
"Yes"
"Here's a cup of tea, I think you deserve it. I wouldn't have done it....."
"Thanks"
"Hello, Doncaster Control ?...........Yes Flower........P****** here.....Yeah my Up Home's lit again......... Yes, yon Area Inspector did it.....Yeah I know, I told him.............Dodgy signal that tha knows.......I wouldn't have done it.....I reckon its not safe myself......I wouldn't climb it even in the daytime........My mate says its going to fall over one of these days..............Righto, Flower.....book it up at 2010...."
Soon afterwards the Up DMU came through, the Driver searching the night for the signal...little knowing the story of the lamp.....of the emotions and the cost in courage.
The following morning broke clear and sunny.
The Assistant Area Manager (Operating) walks in to the office.
"Morning, young'un"
"Morning, Guv"
"Hear you were at P******** last night?"
"Yes, Up Home went out"
"Yes...Bloody awful signal that, no-one wants to lamp that in the dark, let alone a storm...Good work !"
"Thanks, Guv'nor"
"Make sure you don't book too much overtime time....only a lamp out you know...."
He walks away smiling..........
.
