Happy memories of Retford

Sir, I was delighted to read your in depth feature concerning Retford – Steam Days, May 2021. I have seen many of Keith Pirt’s photographs before of course. Those of us who live in the Sheffield area have every reason to be grateful to him for his extensive coverage of the city’s railways, which, for reasons I have never understood, seem to have escaped most other railway photographers. One of Keith’s photos (not in the feature) shows a ‘K3’ 2-6-0 descending from Rotherwood towards Woodhouse station, some six miles east of Sheffield on the ex-Great Central main line. Behind the train is the late-1930s housing estate where I was born and lived until the age of 18. Since then, Woodhouse station was allowed to fall into almost complete dereliction but, happily, has in this century been restored to something of its former glory. At least its passengers do not have to put up with a bus shelter! Between the ages of 11 and 16 the station was my starting point, mostly on summer Saturdays for the short journey of 20 or so miles to Retford for a day’s trainspotting on the East Coact main line. Arriving around 10am, I would join the throng of ardent young spotters at the south end of Platform 1, where the wall following the curve of the platform provided our perch for the day, as can be seen in the photo of Golden Eagle on page 34 of the article. The fact that we were tolerated in such large numbers at the time and largely left to our own devices is indicative of a more tolerant age when one was deemed capable of being responsible for oneself. Only occasionally were we requested via the tannoy to ‘make our way to the south end of platform 1’. On all the many occasions I was there, there was never a hint of trouble nor need of admonition from members of railway staff.

Most of us were perfectly happy to remain at the south end for the simple and obvious reason that we could observe proceedings on both the ECML and the GC lines. A number of spotters however would hang around at the north end – perhaps these were the ones that were not interested in the unglamorous freight engines that plied the GC lines between industrial south Yorkshire and the coal-greedy power stations of north Nottinghamshire and Lincolnshire. This division of labour led to the development of a sort of jungle telegraph. At the south end of the station we had semaphore gantries in four directions, but those at the north end could see the up signals a mile or so further north as the road was straight over that distance and these signals would come off well before we heard the 1–4 bell code from South box. The first indication we had of an approaching southbound train was a high-pitched voice announcing ‘Peg Donny’ from the other end, a call which travelled with great clarity the length of the platform. Anticipation mounted, especially when the signal came off for the middle road for a southbound non-stop service. Fever pitch might be reached a little later when the initial cry was followed by the long-held wail, ‘Streeeeeee-eak’, multi-voiced. Of course, this indicated one of the day’s highlights, an ‘A4’-hauled express. We at the south end of course returned the favour, replacing ‘Peg Donny’ with ‘Peg London’. Of course our cries of ‘Streak’ were no less fervent than those of our north end neighbours. On an average day one might expect to see nine or ten ‘A4s’ between ten in the morning and four, when I was required to return home by my parents. My first visits to Retford though were in the company of my father, who would drive me there and spend the day patiently while I indulged my hobby. I still remember my first two named ‘cops’ at Retford. We were barely on the platform when ‘A3’ No 60078 Night Hawk passed southbound at speed, to be followed by my first ‘A4’, No 60025 Falcon. At length one got to know which locomotives you would see most frequently – those shedded at King’s Cross, Peterborough, Grantham, Doncaster and York. The Gateshead and Scottish engines were much more of a rarity. Among the ‘A4s’ some of those became legendary and we didn’t always believe those spotters who claimed to have seen ‘Union’, ‘Empire’, ‘Commonwealth’ or Kingfisher at Retford. I do remember, on one evening when my father was due to pick me up at 4 o’clock, he did not arrive until after seven, so I had three extra hours spotting, observing workings I would normally have missed. At one point an immaculate Sir Ronald Matthews arrived with a down stopping service, in stark contrast to Gateshead’s reputation and its condition as shown in Keith’s photo shown on page 39. I can only assume it was ex-works and on a running-in turn prior to its returning north. By the time I quit spotting around 1965 I knew the names of all the ‘A4s’ in order by heart, and 56 years later I can still recite them without hesitation – it’s my test that my memory is still in order and I am not yet quite in my dotage! Mind you, I am not so good with people’s names! Of course, one dreamed of one day travelling behind an ‘A4’ on the main line, but that could not happen on my pocket money budget for the first few years. At length, I managed a couple of ‘A4’-hauled main line trips between Retford and Doncaster behind Wild Swan and Lord Faringdon. Little did I know that years later I would fulfil that ultimate ambition – King’s Cross to Edinburgh behind an ‘A4’, this thanks to Mel Chamberlain’s brief foray into main line steam operations. Since then I have travelled many miles behind ‘A4s’ thanks to Marcus Robertson’s Steam Dreams operation and Flying Scotsman Services before that, with Sir Nigel Gresley, Union of South Africa and Bittern. My one regret in that line is to have missed out on the Mallard runs in 1988. At the time I quit active trainspotting around 1965, there were five ‘A4s’ that had escaped my gaze. Two years later we were on holiday in Scotland and the remaining ‘A4s’ were enjoying their ‘Indian Summer’. Whilst staying near Perth my father and I decided to chance a visit to Perth loco shed. A sympathetic shedmaster permitted our entry and there in the gloom stood the four legends – ‘Empire’, ‘Commonwealth’, ‘Union’ and Kingfisher. Which left one – the long scrapped Guillemot – the one that got away. Occasionally, towards the end of steam on the ECML a southbound stopping service hauled by an ‘A4’ would call at Retford, resulting in a crowd of small boys beseeching the driver to allow us to ‘cab’ it. Most refused of course, but not all, and half a dozen of us at a time would be allowed into the magical realm of blazing fire, myriad pipes, controls and dials that was the heart of the great beasts that we loved. It was not just the ‘A4s’ that we loved – all the Eastern Pacifics caught our attention. I only saw one of Thompson’s ugly ducklings, No 60506 Wolf of Badenoch when it called at Retford heading south. That can be no later than 1961. Mallard and Flying Scotsman were always accorded special favour, but I had personal favourites too – Scottish Union and Abbotsford would appear at my every visit, Melton among the ‘A3s’, Herringbone among the ‘A2s’. On reflection, some of those racehorse names were not a little bizarre, yet I thought nothing odd in a steam locomotive named Pretty Polly, let alone Bachelor’s Button! Speaking of ‘old friends’ among steam locomotives, one of them appears in your feature on Chesterfield – a named ‘B1’ passing Rotherwood box in the 1960s would almost always be No 61033 Dibatag or its Darnall companion No 61027 Madoqua – and there’s another set of crazy names for locomotives. I have often wondered whether Oribi and Ourebi were different dialect names for the same antelope. Some 40 years since those Retford days I am fortunate in that I have been involved with heritage steam thanks to my time working on the Mid-Hants line and subsequently through a second career as a guard with South West Trains. As a volunteer steward as well as a paying passenger, I have been able to travel by steam over all of those lines that as a youth I would have loved to do. Nevertheless, the memory of those far off days of unalloyed pleasure and delight spent at the south end of Retford station in the 1960s burn bright and fresh to this day. I am sure I am not alone. Robin Helliwell, Bordon, Hants