The Wrightscale Workshop

A beautiful new workshop stands in our garden. We are grateful to our customers whose purchases financed the project, the professionals who put up the building and to everyone’s patience as we modified, electrified, decorated and floored the interior.

The Notre Dame Workshop, newly built by Malcolm Wright and friends

We thought that a lot of railway-related art could come to this new workshop. In pride of place would be photos showing a family trip to Paris as we posed under the towers of Notre Dame Cathedral. I think we told you that the day that the workshop was scheduled to go up, Notre Dame was (not quite) burnt down. There would also be framed artwork from our books – Tarn Tramways  and Colonel Péchot: Tracks To The Trenches. In addition were all the models created over the years.

The original artwork from the book TRAMWAYS A VAPEUR DU TARN from Oakwood Press. Our thanks are to Alison Ewan who brought a black and white postcard to life

Before any display, we had to plan storage, without which many a job can be started but few finished. It had to come first because it has to be planned. No machine can be used without an array of tools and accessories, not to mention raw materials which be kept to hand.

Then the machines begin to be moved.

Also from TRAMWAYS A VAPEUR DU TARN, available from Oakwood.We hoped to have this painting by Alison Ewan hanging in the workshop

One of these machines is the Tom Senior Mill. The Tom Senior was the pride of its makers, the Atlas Works, Liversedge, Yorkshire. It was to perform tasks beyond a centre lathe. Sadly, it cost more to make than the selling price. This can mean only one thing for a business …

Malcolm originally bought his second-hand Tom Senior in the late Eighties. He explained to his sceptical wife that it would do ALL the jobs which a lathe couldn’t do … well perhaps not all, he admitted. His sceptical wife then asked where he would put it. At the time, we lived in a semi in Oxford.

 ‘Easy’ he said, ‘the shed at the bottom of the garden.’ To be accurate, the garden sloped upwards, and so the shed could be more fairly described as the one at the top of the garden.

He went ahead and nearly a tonne of awkward metal arrived at the front gate. His wife took one look, said that the children needed supervising and vanished. Malcolm and a friend took it piece by piece up the garden and reinstated it in a shed.

When we left Oxford, professional removers took care of our possessions and installed said Tom Senior in the existing workshop at Burnside. This all happened a long time ago and so he thought a move from the old shed to the new should not take the two of us very long.

Here are the adventures of its would-be removers. It is an iron law of nature that for every year that passes, the mass of an object increases! Our generation, as we never cease to remind the young, achieved marvels when we were their age. The young, quite correctly, look sceptical and remind us that we are no longer capable.

The Tom Senior milling machine, wearing an overall! Even though this is only a part of it, the machine is a good size as we were to find out

‘We just stood in the street and took a few parts off, then carried them one by one up the side entrance to the shed. Then we put it together. What could be more simple?’ said he.

Nothing was simple.

The motor, for example, merely needed to be disconnected from the electricity (run into the house, check what devices were running, throw the Mains switch, come back, check that the power REALLY was off) disconnect and then do Power-Up, that is, Power-Down in reverse. Then the retaining bolts could be withdrawn (search for correct spanners, loosen all round, complete the unloosening, lay all bolts, washers, spanners etc in a careful kit, ready for reassembly). Prime Mover and his assistant would then have to clear the site of all tools and aids which had crept in during the process. The motor could then be eased off its perch, weight swaying first to the assistant, then back to Prime Mover and so on as necessary. Then the motor joined a series of parts on the floor.

Quite rapidly, the spanner or Allan Key or whatever was needed for another job and so it left the kit of parts. There would be fun and games at the other end, but that is quite another story.

Some parts were so heavy that they required an engine crane to be moved. The trouble is, engine cranes require a large area so the assembly had to be moved to a spot convenient for the crane. Since Stonehenge, we Britons have moved things on rollers. As the object moves forward and off the roller, so the assistant runs from back to front to put the roller in position again.

The workshop interior, painted, lined and floored. It would have made such a lovely art gallery!

To introduce the roller required a lever to raise the load. We had just such a lever in the form of a jemmy. Again, the principle is simple. Archimedes said ‘Give me a long enough lever and I can move a Tom Senior’ Or perhaps he didn’t. We found using a lever rather complicated. The Atlas Works had designed a cabinet for Tom Senior which fitted snugly to the floor at all places. Introducing a jemmy required an elaborate dance It had to be rocked just enough to get a lever underneath, but not toooo much!.

Finally, the crane was in a position to do its job. There was some todo because the lifting gear expired on the job.A replacement was found which lifted Tom Senior on to a trolley. Prime Mover and Assistant were rewarded by the crunching sound of trolley breaking, the cue for further consternation.

We had wanted to display the original artwork for this book in the workshop. Original painting by James Albon, book from Birse Press

We do have another, more sturdy trolley. Unfortunately, it had spent the last five months as a handy parking place for an equally large load – piece of 7 ¼” gauge rolling stock since you ask. In order to liberatesaid trolley, we needed the crane. Tom Senior was lifted back on the ground, engine crane dismantled, taken to trolley . The crane was re-erected and sturdy trolley finally liberated. Before we could get back to Tom Senior, it was painfully clear that the tyres of the sturdy trolley were less than optimally inflated – something to do with the load it had been carrying for months. This had to be addressed before there was any question of new use.

Two days later, Tom Senior finally stood in his new quarters. He is indeed a magnificent beast, so magnificent that we realised that a workshop thirty square metres in area is actually quite small. Reality had bitten our plan.

The Wrightscale Wren, a model we had intended to display in the workshop

The well-lit, watertight and secure environment in which we were going to display our treasures will have to be used for other things, small essentials such as walk-round space, shelves, cupboards and so on.

As I write, we are working on a new display space.
As a footnote, we are concerned about the preserved railway, the Chemin de Fer Touristique de Tarn which runs on old TVT track. The spectacular bridge which linksthe station to the rest of the line is under threat of closure. It was built in the early 1920s and so it is showing its age.

War Department Railways Remembered

Centenaries unroll, year after year, and now we are into the long shadow cast by the First World War. Ordinary people were plucked from their homes and jobs, entered a horrific new reality in the trenches and then returned home, to Britain, France, Germany or the hugely changed Europe of the East.

From the United Kingdom alone, six million people, mostly men, experienced the 14-18 War. Shockingly, more than 10% died. Of these 10%, half were under 25. The survivors felt that they had a lot to forget; we have much to remember.

'It ain't arf 'ot mum' Members of the Somme Battlefiedl Pipe Band get a warm welcom at the Aboyne Games August 3rd

This was brought home to Aboyne just the other day. A poignant tribute was paid to commemorate the sacrifice of Scottish soldiers who fought in France in the first and second world wars. The 27 members of the Somme Battlefield Pipe Band came from Péronne in the département of Somme to join the pipers at Aboyne's traditional Highland Games.

The group was founded in 1989. This was an interesting date. Before then, memories of the terrible wars were close and personal, after, for various reasons, they have become less so. Before 1989, young people all over Europe knew family who had fought in both wars. There were still many substantial peace-time armies; the Second World War had segued into the Cold War. My brothers and the historian Niall Ferguson have memories of serving in their schools' combined cadet forces. The uniforms and antiquated guns of these cadet forces are no longer part of the life of today’s youngsters. Ferguson makes the point that to his 19-year-old son, 1918 is as remote an event as the Congress of Berlin (which took place as the dust of the Napoleonic wars was settling) was to him when he was 19. The Somme Band was formed to keep alive memories, gratitude and the need to retain the dreadful lessons learned.

A contemporary colour sketch shows the Scots soldier of 1916. From 'Illustration' magazine - courtesy of MD Wright

The Somme Pipe Band made a two-week commemorative tour of Scotland. They joined other pipers at the Aboyne Games on August 3rd. They were invited to close the Games by performing ‘Beating The Retreat’ as the Chieftain’s banner was lowered. Traditionally, a place at the van in an advance - or the rear in a retreat – is the place of honour and the French pipers did the honours with gusto.

The Somme Pipe Band also stood out for their attention to detail. Their desire was to reproduce the costume worn by the Scots regiments 103 years ago and it was interesting to see this. At the Games, they wore khaki jackets and proper kilts though they didn’t go for the khaki aprons which covered Scots kilts in the battlefield. Khaki, as we know, was part of the field-craft learned by the British in India – khaki is derived from a Hindi word. The tunic worn over the shirt was a convenient mud-colour, as was the over-kilt protecting the tartan kilt below. These thick serge garments were useful in spring, summer and autumn but became very heavy when the wearer was soaked by rain. The Somme, lying directly in the path of rain-bearing winds, can be very wet.  In mid-winter when the fabric was stiff with frost, the legs underneath were sadly scratched.

In the background of a contemporary sketch appear horses and wagons. The theory was that the General Service wagon pulled by mules would supply the British Front. From 'Illustration' magazine courtesy MD Wright

The French pipers wore epaulettes – originally designed to keep the straps of Army issue backpacks in place. On the costumes of other pipers, these are often just a decorative touch, but for the French they were still functional.

They wore gaiters, not visible in this photograph, to protect the feet from mud which would otherwise have got inside their boots. On the battlefields of the Somme, the same function was performed by puttees. The puttee is another borrowing from Hindi. It is made by wrapping a strip of cloth around the ankle all the way up to the knee, protecting the top of the boot and the shins.

In practice, the British Front resembled a morass through which it was all but impossible to drag mule wagons. Portable 60cm railways were introduced from late 1916 to make transport possible. Photo collection Col Ronald. More picturescan be found in 'WDLR Companion' Roy LInk and Col Ronald

‘Our boys’ and for that matter the French, Germans and others who also had to endure the western front had to travel over a ruined landscape. When they were lucky, there were duck-boards, keeping them out of the worst of the mud. The ground was usually pitted with shell-holes filled with rain-water. Sometimes these were deep enough to drown in. No wonder that, added to heat, cold, thirst, rotting clothes, there was the fear of rats and other vermin and a pervasive rotting stench.

The outfits of our French pipers were finished with bonnets and cockades, as might have been worn on dress parade. On the battlefield, soldiers wore helmets. These were metal, with webbing underneath. This ‘gave’ a little when there was an explosion nearby, offering a bit of protection in all the shelling and stray bullets.

Under his tunic, the soldier of 103 years ago wore a dog-tag, useful identification if he were to fall. In memory of all these casualties, the French pipers each carried a poppy, potent symbol of the battlefield.

What lessons are there here?

16mm model of the WD D-Class wagon shown in the photo above, using Wrightscale bogies. It could take 10 tonnes of supplies on the portable track shown above. Photo MD Wright

The secret of the adaptable WD wagon shown above. These bogies, adapted from a French original, made the work of the War Department Light Railways possible. Wrightscale 16mm bogie

How could ‘Thomas Atkins’ endure all this? Some of my grand-father’s letters from the Front survive and Ferguson recalls his grandfather, John Ferguson, who was there. Ferguson aptly characterises the attitude of the British Army during those intolerable years. ‘They just didn’t give up despite the hardships’

Was it patriotism, propaganda or fear of harsh military courts? He has another answer, which can also be found in my grand-father’s letters.

The WD D-class wagon shown in the contemporary photograph. Heavily overloaded, it battles through mud and shelling to deliver supplies. For this, other contemporary photos and drawings see 'WDLR Companion' 

21^st Feb (1916) ‘Just a line this morning. The night before, we had a successful concert and last night we had six orders all countermanding each other. Finally there came a warning that we were to be ready for a gas attack. The wind was favourable, but apparently, the Hun thought better of it. … 22^nd Feb I had my scotchmen taking up (barbed) wire yesterday. They did grouse. I never heard such a row! But they got the stuff up all right.’

It mattered, as Ferguson has pointed out, that British officers were generally competent, that the soldier’s lot was made bearable by the obnoxious pleasures of the cigarette and rum ration and that the bonds between the ‘pals’ endured. On both sides of the Front, 60cm railways brought supplies and small comforts from home.

This is just a sketch, but it shows our boys in 1916. From' Illustration' magazine courtesy MD Wright

My grandfather also reflected that every day that passed turned ‘our’ troops more into an Army and the Bosche Army more into a collection of individuals.

This would take a while. Most of the troops were boys crouching in trenches, mortally afraid. Another sad fact has emerged from warfare. Courage is like money in the bank. There is only so much any mortal can withdraw from this … reserve, endowment, call it what you will. When it is gone, it is gone. Oh! The pity of war.