Preamble ...
... postamble?

The Wemyss Private Railway. When ah wis fifteen, ah got fed up wi skale an decided it wis time tae spend mah days in a wey, mair tae mah satisfaction. Ah kent that ah wid hiv tae get a job an pey mah wey, but like aw youngsters, only when ah wis forced tae! Ah had nae ambitions tae be a fireman or an engine driver. Thae had tae work fur a livin. Space wis big in th sixties but astronauts were Americans or Russians. Bein a big science fiction fan, ah wis mair than a wee bit aware that rockets were even mair like hard work. So that left bummin aboot an bein a layaboot. Pey wis rubbish but th 'oors wis great. An so, me an mah pals started hingin aroond th Wemyss Private Railway, mainly on acoont o mah pal, Eck, who wis a train spotter. In thae days, anoraks hidnae come intae fashion an drugs wis whit ye got if ye had a bad infection. Onnywey, th Wemyss Private Railway wis a jint venture tween th Coal Board an th Laird o Wemyss, him havin 51% (no daft!). The line ran fae the Wellesley pit in Methil, roond the back o Buckhind an East Wemyss tae th Michael Pit. At wan time, ah think th Randolph wis connected as weel. Coal wis taen fae th Michael, which didnae hae a washer, tae th Wellesley, which had two. Ah think ah wid hae done that diffrent. The locos were aw ex-British Railways steam 0-6-0s. (This wis before British Railways lost th 'way' an became British Rail). If ye're intae that sort o thing, they were a mix o pannier tanks an WD90 saddle tanks. Eck runs a toy shop noo, so if ye want tae ken mair, ask him! Tae start wi, we yaised tae hing aroond th level crossin at Starkies Wids, an see if we could cadge a lift on th brake van, up tae th loco sheds at th Wemyss. Th gairds got tae ken us efter a while an it got tae be a regular thing. When ithers were hingin aroond street corners, freezin in th cauld o winter, we wis runnin up an doon th line, cozied up tae a warm stove in th brake van. Awboddy that worked on th railway seemed tae be cawed Geordie, sos aw ye had tae say wis "Geordie tellt us it wis aw richt" and we got tae dae pretty much as we pleased. Rules wisnae a big thing on railways in thae days, an on a private railway, well… In fact, we got tae be sae regular, that Geordie (the gaird) w'd tak a shift aff, an we w'd run th brake van. Startin fae the Wellesley, ye w'd couple up th empty wagons tae th loco, then, as the loco took up th strain, ye'd unwind th brake. Th train wid puff an clank up th brae an under Denbeath Brig. If ye werenae peyin attention, th loco wid huff an puff an skite on th rails up th brae. Mind an tak th bluidy brake aff, ah tellt yis! Wan nicht, we'd jist started th first run tae th Wemyss. Th stove wis cauld, an th frost wis hard on th grund. First thing tae dae wis licht th stove. Ye cannae dae wi frozen fingers, an that nicht, we wis too late tae get a shovel o hot coals fae th loco. We wis aff up th brae, an couldnae wait. "Ah ken" says Eck, expert on aw things railway, "We'll jist get some paraffin fae th red lamp. That'll get th coal tae burn!" Nae sooner sayed than done. "Hoo much'll ah yaise?" says me. "Gie it plenty". So ah did. An a wee bit mair, jist tae be shair. Eck lichts a match an chucks it in th stove. It lit, awricht! There wis this big oarange fireball. Eck lost his eyebroos, an th wee tache he wis prood o. Mah fringe got twa inches shorter an aw th wee bobbles on mah jersey vanished instantly. Next thing, we're aw hingin ootside on th wee platform ye get on th back o a brake van, watchin th flames shoot oot th door o th cabin. By this time, we jist happened tae be at th level crossin at Starkies Wids. An watchin us, as he sat jist ahent th barrier, is th local bobby in his nice new blue an white panda car. Whit can ye dae? He's sittin there, waitin fur th train tae gang by, an th Black an White Minstrel show is trundlin by on a blazin brake van. Oor faces wis scorched an black. Flames an reek are awplace. Only wan thing tae dae. Gie him a wee wave an a glossy smile. Act natural. See if he notices onnything. Five minutes later, th flames have subsided an were up near Wellsgreen. Naeboddy's chasin us, sos ah reckon we're OK fur th nicht. We're warm enough, an there's work tae be done when we get tae th Wemyss. Ther's ayeweys time fur a fag, so we share a companionable draw while we wait fur th smok tae clear. It's gaun tae be a guid nicht. Next week, it'll be shuntin th wagons an why it's no a guid idea tae hae a pee in a biler hoose. See yis. Are yis ready fur some real work, then? Furget yer aerobics, yer weight trainin an 'goin fur th burn'! Cause the loco's taen th train up tae th hump in th shuntin yaird, an it's time tae set up a coal train. Th furst thing we did wis stop wi th brake van jist on th crest o th hump. Oot we got, sherpish like, an no forgettin th couplin pole. These days, it's aw auto-matic couplins that connects th train th gether. Ah'm shair yis has aw seen th bit in th film whaur th guidy an th baddie are fechtin atween th twa wagons, wi th baddie swingin an axe. Th guidy pu's th pin oot, an th baddie is left, lookin glaikit on th ither hauf o th train. Usually as it starts tae run awa doon th hill. Somehow, it wisnae like that fur us. (apairt fae th glaikit bit!) Th wagons aw had thick chains hingin fae a hook, wan at each end. Aw ye had tae dae wis tae tak th wee hook on th end o yir shuntin pole, catch th last link o thick chain, an flip it aff th big hook on th other wagon. Easy! In, hook, flip, an th brake van wis uncoupled. Nae bother! Oh… an ah forgot tae mention that th chain weighed aboot thirty pund, ye had tae reach in past th buffers, an ye had tae time it jist as th strain come aff th couplin. Keepin well clear o th buffers. We stuck a penny on th brake van buffers, wan time. Stuck it on wi choong-gum. Efter th buffers had smacked aff th buffers on th wagon, we had a penny th size o a saucer! Definitely keep clear o th buffers! The loco w'd tak aw th empty wagons awa, an we'd let th brake van start tae run doon th hump towards th next train o fu wagons. Makin shair that we'd switched th points tae roll on tae th richt track. "Did ye set th points, Eck?" "What?" "Ah sayed. Did ye set th points. Eck?" "Thocht you were daen that?" "Naw! Ah'm in chairge o th brake." Meanwhile, th brake van is getherin speed. "You did that th last time!" "No. Ah didnae!" "It wis!" Next thing there's twa o us jumpin oot th van an racin doon th track tae th switch. Ye ken, point switches dinnae hauf get stiff when yer in a hurry. An we are in a helluva hurry as th brake van rumbles up tae th switch. Suddenly, th point clanks across an th unmanned van lurches intae th richt sidin. "Jist made that!" says Eck. "Aye, we did." Says me. "Wha's on th brake?" "You sayed you wis!" "No ah wisnae!" "Aw naw!" baith o us says. Were runnin doon th track, fa'in ower th sleepers an th ballast. Th brake van's rollin towards th train. We jump on, an intae th cabin. Eck starts burlin th brake wheel. Th brake blocks are squealin, an ah think ah wis tae! We're slowin, but no enough. Like hittin an anvil wi a hammer, so it is. Whit a smack! Coorse, we're on th flair by this time an aw th hot coals have shot oot th stove an are rattlin aroond us. Talk aboot tracer bullets. This is startin tae get awfy familiar, th smell o burnin jersey. Up we get, smoulderin in aw th wrang places, an pile oot th break van tae see th devastation. "Looks awricht" says Eck. "Ca see onny damage." "OK. Get th shuntin pole an couple it up." As Eck is couplin up th wagons, an ah must say, daen a professional job o it, Ah'm casting mah professional eye ower th brake van. An then ah notices it. Ah.m shair th cabin wis set richt in th middle o th wagon base it sits on. No, it overhangs th base by six inches, an there's a six inch ledge at th ither end that wis never there before. Should ah say onnythin. Naw. Best no tae. "Richt" says Eck "We've got five minutes afore we go back tae th Wellesley, an ah'm needin a pee." "So am ah. It's too cauld tae dae it richt here. That wind fair cuts through ye." We both looked across at th water tower they yaise tae fill th locos. It's got a wee biler underneath tae stop th water fae freezin, an th fire door fur th biler is doon hauf a dizzen steps, ahent a wee wa'. Fine. Naeboddy'll see us. It'll be warm, oot o th wind an next tae a red hot biler fire door. Hae a pee. Smok a fag. Then back tae th train. Dae ken which wan o us eedjits thocht o it furst. Nae doubtin that great minds think alike. If ye pee on a red hot cast iron door, ye get steam. James Watt w'd be prood o us. Don't try this at hame. Really, ah mean it. Th second th pee hit th door, we were engulfed in th foulest steam ah've ever experienced. It wis like bein in th trenches on th Somme, wi th Germans firin poison gas at us! Coughin an chokin, eyen waterin an oor noses on fire, we focht oor wey up they steps. Forget bein pals. We'd walk ower th tap o onyboddy tae get oot o there. We ran back tae th brake van jist as the loco took up th strain. This time, we remembered th brake. Off tae th Wellesley. We managed tae fund enough burnin coal tae get th stove gaun again. So it's licht up th fags again, an out tae th van platform tae watch th world go by. "Does this cabin look squint tae you?" says Eck. "Naw! It's jist th fumes affectin ye. Ye'll be aw richt th morn."