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who where these fire raisers what was the faction that did this?

It really is an absolute masterpiece Night Freight

What happened to all the railway music?

what happened this is the last video now

The last video

First i heard this wreck in real life it's link is en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hawes_Junction_rail_crash

why did i click on this right after listening to 1812 overture

Question: The song says that she worked until the diesel age, but is there any record of her banking a diesel hauled train?

Good job

Lyrics: O well it won’t be long before the steam’s all gone, green all the way The Number 9’s will soon be movin’ on, green And I say we’re only working for today The end’s not very far away For many a long year well we showed ‘em how, green all the way But a diesel pulls the wagons now, green And they say to me as down the line they roll, “We don’t need you to shovel coal.” O when the railcars speed on the Lincoln run, green all the way The tankies rest in the evening sun, green And a gray of smoke is drifting on the air, But they’re not going anywhere So to the heat and the dust I’ll bid farewell, green all the way For a death trap cab and the diesel smell, green And the way things are a smash there’s bound to be They won’t find very much of me So when the Deltics roar up the northern line, green all the way Just spare a thought for the good ol’ time, green And the days of fire and steam are nearly done They won’t be rising with the sun

*cough cough Oliver cough cough*

Truly a grand piece of machinery. May she rest in peace. 🫡

*LYRICS* Ten big wheels to roll her along Just a working girl on the Lickey Bertha's the name in the hall of fame, she was the only one of her kind The first and last of her line... She was Fowler's dream and was first in steam As 1920 dawned She served her time on the two-mile line 'Til the diesel age was born Ten big wheels to roll her along Just a working girl on the Lickey Bertha's the name in the hall of fame, she was the only one of her kind The first and last of her line... If a train should fail on the rising rail They'd summon Bertha's power Then she'd ease them up to Blackwell Top In a quarter of an hour Ten big wheels to roll her along Just a working girl on the Lickey Bertha's the name in the hall of fame, she was the only one of her kind The first and last of her line... Well, a tower of strength on the Lickey's length She seldom fell from grace Then what could they do but send for two Or three to take her place Ten big wheels to roll her along Just a working girl on the Lickey Bertha's the name in the hall of fame, she was the only one of her kind The first and last of her line... Well she steamed away every working day For nearly forty years On her famous run, but her time was done And she quietly disappeared... Ten big wheels to roll her along Just a working girl on the Lickey Bertha's the name in the hall of fame, she was the only one of her kind The first and last of her line... Her name lives on, though her voice is gone From the early morning fields... And all I have is a photograph Of a girl with ten big wheels... Ten big wheels to roll her along Just a working girl on the Lickey Bertha's the name in the hall of fame, she was the only one of her kind The first and last of her line... She was the only one of her kind The first and last of her line...

*LYRICS* Smoke in my eyes, soot in my hair Cinders in my shoes I'm watching the needle falling away And singing the Eight Freight Blues Well, we're running late in the sorry state on 8215 She's overdue for boilerwork and I can't get her to steam With a thousand tons of coal behind and the tender full of slack Me' mates sent me to Coventry and they just won't answer back Well, smoke in my eyes, soot in my hair Cinders in my shoes I'm watching the needle falling away And singing the Eight Freight Blues Now across the cab the driver sits and he's staring straight ahead He's not spoken to me for eighteen months since I started at the shed He's drawn a line across the cab for each of us to stand Since he found I joined the N.U.R. while he was an ASLEF man Well, smoke in my eyes, soot in my hair Cinders in my shoes I'm watching the needle falling away And singing the Eight Freight Blues I fired her thin and piled it in but still she wouldn't go When the water dropped I forced a stop on the mainline for a blow I've smashed the clinker, cleaned the fire, tried every trick I know With a rake and dart, but that old fart blames me for all her woes Smoke in my eyes, soot in my hair Cinders in my shoes I'm watching the needle falling away And singing the Eight Freight Blues With a one-in-sixty climb ahead and the water out of sight We'll have to stop and blow her up for the second time tonight The load comes on the engine, and the starter's showing green I'm looking for the banker, but no bankers to be seen Just smoke in my eyes, soot in my hair Cinders in my shoes I'm watching the needle falling away And singing the Eight Freight Blues Now the driver comes from Motherwell; his face, I can't abide! He only knows full-forward gear with the regulator wide I can't touch his injector and mine is short of breath I wish his balls would turn to bulldogs and bite the sod to death! Well, smoke in my eyes, soot in my hair Cinders in my shoes I'm watching the needle falling away And singing the Eight Freight Blues Smoke in my eyes, soot in my hair Cinders in my shoes I'm watching the needle falling away And singing the Eight Freight Blues

*LYRICS* Nineteen-hundred and ten Christmas Eve at Hawes Junction Lights of a passenger train through curtains of wind-driven rain Setting the scene for destruction... Light engines waiting to go Two to Carlisle returning Two others making for Leeds and a goods train passing at speed And a-one on the table for turning... Well the northbound passenger's late The signalman gives her the mainline Forgetting the Carlisle men who consider the green is for them Set off for home on the same line... Onlookers rooted to clay A sound holds every attention Out of the stormy darkness the London to Glasgow express Pursuing the Carlisle engines... Hurtling onto Ais Gill The Moorcock tunnel astride her She burts out into the night and straight ahead is the light, Slow-moving engines to guide her... A horrified driver looks 'round To the night train rushing upon them His whistle hangs on the air like the anguish cry of despair Torn from the man who condemned them... Steel hammers hard into steel Carriages crumple to splinters Gas spills onto the flames and fire takes over the train Travelers strewn amongst cinders... Nineteen-hundred and ten Christmas Eve at Hawes Junction Lights of a passenger train through curtains of wind-driven rain Setting the scene for destruction...

*LYRICS* Oh, when you're tumbling out of your bed You don't know if you're dead or alive And when you make your way through the wakening day Till you're climbing aboard a Black Five Well, you're leaving the station behind And you're shoveling mile after mile And the kids all wave at the master and slave And the passengers riding in style Well, you're up and you're groping for coal For the fire has blinded your eye Fill the boiler's need and the firehole's greed As you're blacking the sun and the sky She goes hammering over the hill And you're bloody near roastin' alive Like a hound of steel riding runaway wheels There's a devil astride a Black Five

*LYRICS* Twas half-past five on a Wednesday morn', the driver and his mate Came hurtling out a loco shedding her damn great number eight The fireman wiped his greasy hands, they rolled along the track To pick up a gallon of water and a couple of tubs of slack (couple of tubs of slack...) They waited till the clock was showing a couple hundred pounds They took her to the turntable and they quickly turned her 'round But when they went to park her, they made their big mistake For they left her on a gradient and forgot about the brake (forgot about the brake...) It happened when the turntable was only halfway round The engine's wheels began to turn with an ominous rumbling sound The driver when he saw the thing began to scream and spit As the mighty engine upped its back and plunged into the pit (plunged into the pit...) He went to see the foreman, he was quaking at the knees Saying, "Sir, you've got an engine parked at 45 degrees!" The foreman turned to ghastly green and grabbed the telephone Then half a bottle of aspirins and he caught the next bus home (caught the next bus home...) They fetched the gang from Nottingham, and they soon set about With chains and jacks and dirty words, they got the damn thing out The fireman lost his shovel, now he's sweeping up the coal And I haven't seen the driver since, but I think he's on the dole (think he's on the dole...)

*LYRICS* Oh, did you hear the story of the company's pursuit of glory? They raced from London down to Aberdeen Indeed, to win it, they pushed their engines to the limit These were the olden days, the golden days of steam Indeed, to win it, they pushed their engines to the limit These were the olden days, the golden days of steam In old Euston station, they reveled in the situation They had to beat their time from Crewe to Carlisle They would pursue it, they had the drivers who could do it The Western Route would be the finest in the isles They would pursue it, they had the drivers who could do it The Western Route would be the finest in the isles They took her to the limit and averaged a mile a minute On the journey from Carlisle to Perth The Drummond steaming, the fireman working like a demon More for to pass the signals at Kinnaber first The Drummond steaming, the fireman working like a demon More for to pass the signals at Kinnaber first The Eastern men did battle by breaking records to Newcastle With poor passengers more dead than alive Each driver's order was, "Beat the other to the border" It was the summertime of 1895 Each driver's order was, "Beat the other to the border" It was the summertime of 1895 They passed through Portobello, the timekeepers were turning yellow The engine took the bends at '83 And at the station, they sat and fret a good frustration Till they were on the bridge in making for Dundee And at the station, they sat and fret a good frustration Till they were on the bridge in making for Dundee With all signals clear pass Kinnaber with time to spare Into Aberdeen triumphant and sore Hell and damnation, the Western train was in the station She'd been there a quarter hour or more Hell and damnation, the Western train was in the station She'd been there a quarter hour or more Well, did hear you the story of the company's pursuit of glory? They raced from London down to Aberdeen Indeed, to win it, they pushed their engines to the limit These were the olden days, the golden days of steam

*LYRICS* Now Ernie was a railwayman, and he rattled his way across the lands And he told me, yes he told me everyday I ought to be doing the same He rode a bike and he carried a can and he called himself a lucky man He never let the thought of changing times to cloud or trouble his brain And what did he do when they told him he was through His railway was way behind the times What could he do? It was the only life he knew... He called himself the dinosaur the railway left behind Every engine at the shed, he worked them all alive and dead And he knew them, yes he knew them, "Everyone, I've got a good tale to tell!" "This one was a sod for coal and that one fell in the table hole" "And that one hit the chip shop down the road and battered it all to hell!" And what did he do when they told him he was through His railway was way behind the times What could he do? It was the only life he knew... He called himself the dinosaur the railway left behind He stopped for steam in Nottingham, and he dropped a plog in Birmingham One day his engine left the track and took a shortcut through the yard He ran away a score of times and once he left his train behind For it snatched the coupling, hit the brake, and make a plaything of the guard And what did he do when they told him he was through His railway was way behind the times What could he do? It was the only life he knew... He called himself the dinosaur the railway left behind Well, these mates, they were a special breed, but most of them had gone to seed For they couldn't find a path for them to play inside the master plan Some went into industry and some just whiled the time away But he discovered steam in quiet country corners of the land And what did he do when they told him he was through His railway was way behind the times What could he do? It was the only life he knew... He called himself the dinosaur the railway left behind Yes, the dinosaurs are gathering, in Haverthwaite and Pickering By watercress and lavender and bluebell, we can ride the line Now Ernie is a railwayman and he's glad to use his skills again Content to be among the dinosaurs the railway left behind Oh, what did he do when they told him he was through His railway was way behind the times What could he do? It was the only life he knew... He called himself the dinosaur the railway left behind

She did her service. Built to push she was strong in push and pull power despite only being built to push she was successful it’s such a shame she was withdrawn :(

This is a beautiful song about human error. Tragic horror set up and hilt up properly 10/10

Lyrics: It's not all beer and skittles this blooming job of mine, And it's not a bed of roses, cause the fire is on the line. They don't give you much money, but a lot of slack instead, And they said you had to work at night to earn your daily bread. Just fancy being knocked off in the middle of the night, With the noise enough to wake the dead and give the neighbours fright. You leave your bed with sad regrets prepared to work a train, And they tell you that job is capped and it's back to bed again. When you get down to the shed that's when the "fun" begins, You find that someone's pinched your lamp and tools, another thing. Of course it's all against the rules but still you do the same, Go and pinch someone's else's or it will be you who get's the blame. You often get an engine that is very shy of steam, It's then you start to realise that it isn't all a dream. Your mate sits in the corner doing nothing else but moan, Till you wished to Christ he shut up, get off, or stay at home And when the pegs are danger, just as sure as your alive, There is a rule made by some fool, they call it 55. You have to tramp back half a mile through hail, or snow, or rain, To sign a book, then sling your hook and tramp it back again. And when the journeys' ended and the foreman says sign off, Miles from home you've landed without money, backet, or scoff. Lodge over at the barracks, built inside the station yard, Where the engines sing you lullabies, and the beds are bleeding hard. Or perhaps it's private's digging, that's another lively hole, It's ten to one the fire's gone out, and to find the bloody coal. You go to bed half famished, and it's pretend it's for the best, It's said when your belly's empty, then your brains will get a rest. It's really aggravating, and it chills you to the bone, When they call you up and tell you to work the diner home. On the homeward trip the shovel seems to weight at least at tonne, But you've still got a couple of tonnes to shift before your done. For the umpteenth time you swear you'll jump the job and do no more, Reach home and then book in nine hours and the game starts as before. I very often wonder, if I'll get to driver's job, But sick and tired of fighting 60 hours for thirty pound. Drivers don't retire, on the footplate they take root, As a fireman I must wait until I fill up dead men's boots. I'll be swinging shovels till I die, and then to heaven go, Or perhaps I'll still be firing for the old lad down below.

why were they call black fives anyway

What was the killer for many crews was the shift work.

0:29 is the beginning of the song

what about taking on more water? unless the tank's already been topped up?

Lyrics?

Love it ❤