Today its very hard to imagine driving in the Blackout during the first few dark years of the war, hoping you could just about see the tail light of the lorry in front of you.
Think what it would be like for the train driver? It would be like shutting your eyes and running blindly. nothing but the dark on either side of the train and in front.
For the driver all landmarks vanished but he still had to know what station he had passed and was coming to, know when to lower his speed and when to stop, no longer able to see his friendly fire as he was covered in his cab by a tarpaulin sheet to stop it from being seeing by enemy aircraft.
When one railway engine driver was asked how he knew were he was he answered "It don't worry me much as I drive by ear, I know where I am by the sound of the country, the different noises made by the stations and bridges and every bridge between London and Birmingham is different". The driver of a train is like the captain of a ship, but is more alone and has the same responsibilities for human life, his machine and the same concern for his timetable and the desire to get home.
All through the war their was a shortage of Drivers and firemen and to understand why you just had to ask an engine drivers wife, and then she would let you have it
He can just have finished a 10-14 hour day or night shift and he will still volunteer to take another train out not knowing if he will come home or not. He might be driving from a town that is being bombed where they have just left their families in Anderson shelters or heading towards a town which is copping it hoping that the line had not been hit or a bridge was down while heading into the fan-like inferno while in their half minds they knew their wives or families were waiting for their safe return.
Their reserve, their sense that they were no different from others doing the same vital job, was their strength
Water was vital for Birmingham during the blitz and studying the maps of where the bombs landed it is quite easily to pinpoint the bridges that were hit and trace were the Elan Aqueduct ran down Meriden Street crossing Bordesley Street and into New Canal Street.
Bordesley Railway Stations entrance is directly under the bridge at the start of the Coventry road (as you are leaving town) and runs along the side of Bedford Road.
Nearly opposite to the entrance to the station to the right of the bridge is Upper Trinity Street were today you can still see the faded paintwork of the Cattle Station painted on the wall, the Goods Sheds were halfway up the road and this is were the lines changed and split. At Bordesley Junction a young G.W.R. engine cleaner saved the wagons from a blazing railway shed in one of the raids. The warning sounded at 9.50 p.m. on the night of August 26th, 1940, and shunting operations were suspended. It was soon evident that the railway buildings and the wagons alongside were in danger from a hail of incendiaries, and this eighteen-year-old cleaner, who had less than two years service, went outside and began dealing with the bombs, using his hands and feet to cover them with dirt and sand. He was still tackling the incendiaries when he was approached by an examiner and the depot master's clerk.
"Can you drive a locomotive?" they asked. He told them he could. "Right", they said, "We want someone to take engine 7758 alongside the goods shed and get the wagons clear". "What about it?" Without hesitation, the lad volunteered, although by this time the shed was ablaze from end to end and bombs were still falling. Four times he made the journey, with the examiner acting as shunter, and each time he succeeded in drawing a number of wagons to safety. On his first journey he was accompanied on the footplate by the depot masters clerk, but on the remaining trips he went alone. The engine footplate on the offside was too hot for him to touch, but he carried on until the wagons on all three roads next to the shed were clear of the fire. "But for his action", said the official report, "it would not have been possible to save the wagons from destruction". Flicking over the pages of these official records, you get a series of lightning impressions of the battle that was fought against high explosives and incendiaries in every blitzed station and goods depot throughout the country. You read of the two shunter's saving a fitting shop from destruction by tackling the flames with buckets of water and rubbing handfuls of sand into the burning woodwork. In the record of the same raid, there is the story of the woman telephone operator at the main railway exchange, who refused to leave her post though the windows had been blown out and the building was rocked by a series of explosions from bombs which were bursting within 30 yards.
