Forty years ago today Britain said goodbye to steam on its railways, or so it thought. 
As part of the modernisation of the railway network in the 1960s, August 1968 was to mark the end of steam haulage and with it close the chapter on 139 years of history. When the rail network was nationalised in 1948 the newly formed British Railways inherited 20,102 steam locomotives. Phased withdrawal took place as locomotives got to the end of their natural working life and many were cut up at works that had once built them, but it is estimated that over 7,000 were liquidated in private scrapyards between 1958 and 1969. That equates to around two million tons of metal, most of which found its way to UK furnaces. However a large quantity was shipped to Japan possibly to later return as Nissan and Honda cars! The final locomotives to succumb to the cutter’s torch were three LMS “Black Fives” at Draper’s Yard in Hull. Apart from around 270 or so that survived into preservation, Dai Woodham’s Yard in Barry assisting the majority of escapees (213), the entire steam fleet of 16,000 locomotives had been eliminated in a little over ten years. The world of railways had not witnessed a cull like that before nor has it since. (*)
While steam was meant to die 40 years ago it is still going strong on heritage lines all over the country. Furthermore the privatisation of the network has allowed popular “steam special” charter trips over the mainlines. One group of enthusiasts have raised £2 million to build a LNER A1 locomotive from scratch. From the same stable as the famous Flying Scotsman A3 locomotive, and the A4 Mallard, no examples of the A1 Peppercorn class survived into preservation. 
Very soon Tornado will roll out of the works and be seen on the mainlines, a tribute to the determination and hard work of a set of enthusiasts, and engineering skills that Britain thought it had long lost. So why does steam still enjoy great popularity and produce such sentimentality? Is it just nostalgia, or is there more to it than that? Surely in these days of global warming and climate change the burning of large quantities of fossil fuels is not something to be encouraged? One could argue there’s no place for sentimentality and when the final fires died down in August 1968 that should have marked the end of steam for good.
However I find myself in a muddle of contradictions. My environmentalist credentials come under close scrutiny when it comes to steam. I should tut, shake my head in disgust, point out the damage it does, toe the Friends of the Earth party line and be wholly opposed to it. But I’m not. I can’t help it, I admit it, I love steam. The smell, the sound, even the filth, bits of soot in my hair. While I accept that it is not desirable or practical to have maintained 16,000 locomotives in daily use, and I accept the withdrawal of steam traction was necessary, I am not going to wage war against 200 odd preserved examples especially when less than half will be in steam at any one point in time. Many are still in scrapyard condition awaiting the funds to restore them to working condition. 
Their contribution to CO2 emissions and global warming are not going to come anywhere close to the efforts of Britain’s millions of cars. Steam locomotives give a tangible link to the past, they are a living piece of history; in a time when we hardly manufacture anything in this country, they herald engineering feats we were once rightfully proud of. Steam locomotives help demonstrate tasks and duties now alien to us, highly labour intensive they once provided thousands of jobs. Unlike their replacements which could go at the press of a starter button, steam locomotives could take several hours to raise steam, and fires were keep going throughout the night to enable them to be ready for duty at any given time. Boilers need water, levels must be watched, steam pressure has to be kept in check, and fires must not be allowed to die. That’s a lot of care and attention. (Even the shed at Stoke had 90 steam locomotives in the early 1960s). No wonder they have been likened to living beasts with their own personalities. I once watched Union of South Africa (another LNER A4 class like the famous record breaking Mallard) being “put to bed” in sidings at York Railway Museum after a rail tour. The fireman was dropping the fire, essentially removing the still glowing embers of the firebox into a small skip on wheels. The locomotive sighed “haaarrrrh” rhythmically every few seconds, sounding like a very relaxed Darth Vader, giving the impression it was actually breathing.
Nostalgia plays a part in my story, and maybe a few genes! Both my father and grandfather worked on the railways. As a child we had no car and used the free passes British Rail staff received to travel by train to all our holiday destinations. There was no going abroad in those days. My earliest happiest memories include making sandcastles on the beach at Goodrington Sands in South Devon watching immaculate steam trains on the Paignton and Dartmouth heritage railway work hard along the embankment alongside the sands, climbing the steep bank to Churston. I was hooked and it started a lifetime of fascination with steam. Roll forward thirty years and by chance I recently became an active enthusiast myself. On one of my many stays in Coniston in the Lake District I learned of a small preserved railway in the grounds of a local house. I went to investigate and was stunned to find an extensive 7¼ inch gauge railway complete with working signals, signal boxes, and steam locomotives. It has been the life work of the owner, an elderly retired Major. So I donned my overalls and have since attended several maintenance and running days, becoming part of the small band of volunteers who give rides to locals in the know. I still pinch myself when I think I have learnt to raise steam, fire, and drive a real steam locomotive. It maybe a fraction of the size of its mainline counterparts, but all the principles and controls are the same. You cannot afford to take your eyes of it, the safety valves lift at 100 psi, and if the boiler runs dry there will be a large and devastating bang! “My” locomotive Holywath came to Coniston in January 1954, but had done twenty years service on Cleethorpes Pier before that. She’s a delicate old lass and needs treating with great care.
I was in Coniston this weekend for a maintenance day. The routine usually is a walk on Saturday, stay over at my favourite B&B, a 17th Century farmhouse, and then a day of graft on the railway turning my hand to whatever needs fixing. But this Saturday the weather was vile, heavy rain made walking unappealing, so I broke my journey at Carnforth hoping to visit “Steamtown” and see the exhibits in the old MPD (Motive Power Depot) or engine shed to you and me. Carnforth was one of the final three sheds housing the last 88 steam locomotives operating in August 1968, so a fitting place to visit on the anniversary. I’d been as a kid so felt the need to wallow in more nostalgia. Shame it was shut! Has been for ages, only opening for special gala events. However I did learn that a regular steam special from Carnforth to Ravenglass in the western Lake District was under way and if I hurried I might catch a glimpse of it. My timing was perfect, snapping Leander (a LMS Jubilee class) arriving at Ulverston station, and it waited there long enough for me to hurtle down some country lanes to find a good spot on a bridge for photographs. 
My duties this weekend included cleaning soot out of the tubes and smokeboxes, back-breaking stuff even at the smaller scale. We also made repairs to Holywath, so I had the added bonus of taking her up the line for a test run. Living proof that steam goes on, and still has many admirers forty years after its supposed demise.
(*) Figures from “A passion for steam” by Patrick Whitehouse & David St John Thomas
