NIGHT WATCHMEN
On the night shift in one of Europe’s last working steam sheds
“What else do you have to deal with?” “Well, there was the night some drunks tried to steal an engine…” The friendly face of Hans-Joachim Niehus looks out from the pool of light made by his desk lamp in an otherwise darkened office. He is today’s ‘night manager’ at Wernigerode shed. “Fortunately, they didn’t know what they were doing – they managed to open the regulator, but couldn’t get it to move.” Neither, though, were the miscreants caught – slipping away into the shadows before anyone could nab them. These days there’s an additional barrier at the entrance to the depot. Most nights aren’t so dramatic for the man who watches over more than 120 years of locomotive history – black shapes bubbling anonymously before his windows. He is part way through describing his shift to Steam Railway. In the 21st century Hans-Joachim Niehus is a rarity: having wanted to work with steam from childhood. He has now managed 43 years, with only another three to go. All of it has been based right here.
CHINESE TAKEOVER
Summer regularly involves six engines in steam at Wernigerode – more if there’s extra traffic. Two further engines – one each at the sub-sheds of Gernrode and Nordhausen 55 and 38 miles away respectively – are part of Wernigerode’s wider responsibility. They are looked after overnight by just one person each, who report in hourly by phone. That may be small by historical standards, but the metre gauge lines in Germany’s Harz Mountains already make up the world’s biggest steam system. With the collapse of steam in China, they’ll soon have more engines regularly in steam than anywhere else too. Wernigerode’s night foreman is now one of an extremely rare breed. Today, Herr Niehus booked on at 4.05pm – but not initially to look after the shed. The Harzer Schmalspurbahnen’s 40-odd drivers have to be flexible people, and he first took the final railcar working through the forest to Eisfelder Talmuehle at 4.25pm, returning to Wernigerode at 8.30pm. By that point the last steam-hauled train is already back home (8pm in summer, 6.45pm in winter), and the crews will themselves have disposed of the engines and parked them up, neatly spaced around the yard and in the shed building itself. So when Hans-Joachim Niehus steps from his railcar and walks to the brick-built tower that houses the ‘Lokleitung’, things are already quietening down for the evening. On another day, this 12-hour shift might be covered by someone else who today is now packing up. This then is now his kingdom: a yard with sand tower, coaling stage served by a crane, turntable, and the modern shed building itself that replaced a dilapidated predecessor that closed owing to being in danger of collapse in 1982. Plus there’s the three-storey tower with a clock at either end – and the shed name in raised block capitals on the brickwork, just in case you don’t know where you are. His charges are as quiet now as they are loud when plugging up the 1-in-30 by day. Most are the standard East German 2-10-2Ts built in the 1950s, but heavily reconstructed in recent years with new boilers, frames, cylinders… Delivering 700hp and with relatively small 1 metre (3ft 3in)diameter driving wheels, these boxy bruisers may not be pretty, but they’re ideal for dragging seven-coach trains up the Brocken mountain. To one side, in the gloom, is the older version – No. 99.222, built in 1931 and blessed with less brutish looks. Yet also casting its grey smoke gently across the black yard tonight is a centenarian – 1918-built Mallet
No. 99.5906 – and bathed in the sauna-like surroundings of the utilitarian straight shed is something that’s officially even older: although much rebuilt, Mallet No. 99.5901 dates back to 1897. Nowadays the railway’s most venerable engine is generally only used for specials, while No. 99.5906 is normally based at Gernrode for lighter traffic. Tonight though it is gently going cold here after a special working of its own, having just returned from an overhaul at Meiningen Works that included replacing all four of its cylinders.
NEW DAWN
Helping Hans-Joachim Niehus is a second person, whose job is to look after the engines all night. Their ruhefeuer – or ‘quiet fires’ – will periodically be fed; and while most of the ‘Brockenloks’ are tight enough, those nearing overhaul might use a little water too. Although Herr Niehus might help on a particularly busy shift, while this is happening he normally busies himself with the tasks of the shed office itself. Bathed in the lamplight, a register sits on his desk, waiting for his ballpoint to smoothly record events. One of tomorrow’s drivers might call in sick and need to be replaced; perhaps engines will need to be lit up or have fires dropped; maybe even a report will come in that’s not directly relevant to the depot itself – because with the rest of the HSB shut, the shed phone is now effectively the railway’s ‘hotline’. Then there are those regular calls from the sub-sheds, where other minders of steam sit with their own lamps and locomotives. Just as others have done, the world over, for two centuries. Perhaps he can turn a spanner to a small job on one of the engines, and then there are the random tasks: sorting through footplate clothing due to be sent to the cleaners; keeping the yard tidy; maybe mucking out a pit – and in the case of snow, ensuring the points remain clear. For much of the night though, the main feeling is one of peace and quiet. Quiet, with engines in suspended animation… and anticipation of dawn. All the while, the clock above the desk, and those high on the walls outside, slowly tick round into the new day. Then at 4.05am the night foreman hands over to his ‘relief’, signs off and heads home. Fortunately, dealing with attempted engine theft has so far remained a one-off. On a good night, his register will stay completely empty.
SR’s conversation with the HSB took place in German; the quotes are therefore representative rather than direct. With thanks to the HSB for assistance.