It were a dark November night in Yorkshire. Nineteen Thirty something. It weren’t raining for once. Nor freezing neither. Nor fog. Lights of Grisegarth Signal box on t' London and North Eastern Railway could be seen for miles. Passenger train come past, headed for Grimsby, engine were off beat a bit. It were an old ‘un built be Beyers at Manchester for Lincolnshire and Yorkshire Railway. Four big driving wheels as big as a man and four little 'uns out front. Over thirty year old, losing time but nowt they couldn’t mek up wi a bit o’speeding a bit over Ellerbeck viaduct and junction beyond. Next along were Immingham goods. On footplate were young Tommy Aisgarth. He were real excited, officially like as he were engine cleaner, but he’s done exams for fireman and it were his first time out firing engine on long trip, He had been on shunting engines many times after having reached eighteen the age for working on engine footplate, but this were real thing. Ted Moresely were driving, fat ugly pot bellied bloke, near as fat as he were tall, too bloody fat to get under engine to oil round proper like. He were pissed off, he usually drove a big B5 class loco, built by George Robinson in 1922 but today he had a near new J39, a smaller cheaper engine built be Herbert Gresley what weren’t really up to job so they shortened train to 40 wagon, 600 tons.