Hither Green crash - 50 years ago tonight

[BTP69E]

I think the 50th anniversary of this dreadful accident should be mentioned. 49 people lost their lives that misty night, and many more suffered injuries. A packed Hastings to Charing Cross train of 12 carriages was derailed (apart from the first carriage) with four landing on their sides. Perhaps surprisingly. there were a great many standing passengers at 9 p.m. on a Sunday, but in those days many people gathered in Trafalgar Square on Fireworks Night, even though there was no official fireworks display. I was myself on the way to meet a friend at Charing Cross station that night, travelling from my home in Bromley, intending to go from Bromley North with a change at Grove Park, but I somehow missed the train at BN by a minute and instead reached Grove Park by bus, but the connecting train had gone too, of course. Sitting on the platform, annoyed with myself, and having twenty minutes to wait, I recollect a fast train going through that seemed packed. Suffice to say that was almost certainly the train that crashed, and, in any case, without knowing exactly what had happened, the few of us on the platform were politely told that there'd be no trains tonight and could we please leave the station? It was quite evident from the commotion, the bells ringing urgently everywhere and the distressed manner of the staff (more of them there than you might imagine now) that something catastrophic had occurred just down the line so, being young, stupid and curious, I set off down the road and, within a few minutes, came across the scene of carnage, which had happened by the St Mildred's Road bridge on the South Circular Road. Compared with what would happen today, there was almost no noise other than from the crash sight. Ambulances/fire engines etc only had bells, not sirens, and in the prevailing gloom even their sound was muffled anyway. No roads got cordoned off, although I believe buses were diverted virtually straightaway. I felt helpless, but I decided I could be of some slight assistance when I saw that ambulances leaving the scene were in danger of colliding with others arriving, plus traffic going across St Mildred's Road from the side roads, so I became a pointsman for the duration (two hours, maybe, in all) and, standing in the middle of the road, did my bit.

You'll understand, perhaps, why I've not celebrated November 5th since then, and why I shed a tear or two when I think back.

Busaholic,
Thanks for your post. Have been struggling to understand how this forum works. I posted yesterday but may have been in the wrong way, so am trying again now. BTP69E

 

[Busaholic]

Cowley,
Thank you for your welcome. I am not a regular computer user, mainly emails. Only log on in the evening. I did not speak about my involvement in this event for 38 years until one night in bed with my wife when we were having a heart to heart about our past lives and she triggered it when we spoke about things that had happened before we met. - I cried and cried - I now know I was suffering from PTSD. I found a self help group on line run by MIND. Eventually it was removed through lack of funding. Will post more when mind is clearer.

I can entirely relate to this, my friend, and thank you for being so open and candid. Like you, I'm not of the computer age, and am self-taught, so with few skills. Hither Green did affect me, even though my part in the aftermath was so comparatively trivial and, of course, I saw none of the human tragedy. I guess it was the coincidence of my father being caught up in the St John's accident in 1957 (though only in the sense of being on the train behind the Hayes service which was one of the trains involved, but we knew nothing of his whereabouts for hours on that thick foggy night) which added to my feelings, then and now. MIND is a wonderful charity with which I was a little involved in the early 1970s when it adopted that name. I recently broke down and cried in public when some of us were asked of what we were most regretful, and my reply was that I'd had the opportunity in the 1980s, when I visited St Paul's Cathedral, and saw my ex- English master from school on volunteer service there, to make amends. He had been a prisoner of the Japanese in WW2 and had been visibly tortured. Us boys used to mock him behind his back, which I always knew was wrong, and now I had the opportunity to collect my thoughts, greet him and thank him for being an excellent teacher and an admirable human being. I bitterly regret I flunked the opportunity and said nothing, but as I said all this to the assembled company my shame got the better of me and I wept unconsolably, possibly for the first time in my life, but they weren't the tears of self-pity.

Take whatever time you need, and I'm sure I won't be the only one very interested to read whatever you say.

 

[Cowley]

Cowley,
Thank you for your welcome. I am not a regular computer user, mainly emails. Only log on in the evening. I did not speak about my involvement in this event for 38 years until one night in bed with my wife when we were having a heart to heart about our past lives and she triggered it when we spoke about things that had happened before we met. - I cried and cried - I now know I was suffering from PTSD. I found a self help group on line run by MIND. Eventually it was removed through lack of funding. Will post more when mind is clearer.

You’re more than welcome.
Once you’ve posted a couple more times you’ll be able to send private messages between members, then if there’s anything you need to know I’d be happy to help.
Mind you I’m not great at everything either (I’ve just burnt myself on a soldering iron for a start!).

 

[matchmaker]

Very interesting, gents. Thank you. One thing that I remember when reading about this in "Red for Danger" were the parallels between Hither Green, and Sevenoaks in 1927. In both cases the maintenance of the track was criticised, and in both cases the vehicles involved ran far better on other track - in both cases the ECML.

 

[gimmea50anyday]

It’s interesting how some of the survivor vehicles were reused. One of the bogie test rigs for the APT was a hither green survivor as is, i do believe, one of the buffet cars is now the inspection saloon that is often parked up in the loco sidings at York coupled to a 37

 

[Mike99]

I lived in Hither Green from 1983 to 1991, alongside the platform on the up fast line, it was weird to think that just a few hundred yards away from the accident at St Mildreds Road railway bridge. I was at school in Bromley when it happened living in Beckenham so was quite aware of the location, also was it 1972 the Eltham crash when the driver had been drinking on the way back from Margate or has my memory failed again.

 

[Busaholic]

I lived in Hither Green from 1983 to 1991, alongside the platform on the up fast line, it was weird to think that just a few hundred yards away from the accident at St Mildreds Road railway bridge. I was at school in Bromley when it happened living in Beckenham so was quite aware of the location, also was it 1972 the Eltham crash when the driver had been drinking on the way back from Margate or has my memory failed again.

He'd been drinking before signing on and during the journey according to the official report, but as he died in the crash he was never brought to justice, unfortunately.

 

[BTP69E]

I can entirely relate to this, my friend, and thank you for being so open and candid. Like you, I'm not of the computer age, and am self-taught, so with few skills. Hither Green did affect me, even though my part in the aftermath was so comparatively trivial and, of course, I saw none of the human tragedy. I guess it was the coincidence of my father being caught up in the St John's accident in 1957 (though only in the sense of being on the train behind the Hayes service which was one of the trains involved, but we knew nothing of his whereabouts for hours on that thick foggy night) which added to my feelings, then and now. MIND is a wonderful charity with which I was a little involved in the early 1970s when it adopted that name. I recently broke down and cried in public when some of us were asked of what we were most regretful, and my reply was that I'd had the opportunity in the 1980s, when I visited St Paul's Cathedral, and saw my ex- English master from school on volunteer service there, to make amends. He had been a prisoner of the Japanese in WW2 and had been visibly tortured. Us boys used to mock him behind his back, which I always knew was wrong, and now I had the opportunity to collect my thoughts, greet him and thank him for being an excellent teacher and an admirable human being. I bitterly regret I flunked the opportunity and said nothing, but as I said all this to the assembled company my shame got the better of me and I wept unconsolably, possibly for the first time in my life, but they weren't the tears of self-pity.

Take whatever time you need, and I'm sure I won't be the only one very interested to read whatever you say.

I can entirely relate to this, my friend, and thank you for being so open and candid. Like you, I'm not of the computer age, and am self-taught, so with few skills. Hither Green did affect me, even though my part in the aftermath was so comparatively trivial and, of course, I saw none of the human tragedy. I guess it was the coincidence of my father being caught up in the St John's accident in 1957 (though only in the sense of being on the train behind the Hayes service which was one of the trains involved, but we knew nothing of his whereabouts for hours on that thick foggy night) which added to my feelings, then and now. MIND is a wonderful charity with which I was a little involved in the early 1970s when it adopted that name. I recently broke down and cried in public when some of us were asked of what we were most regretful, and my reply was that I'd had the opportunity in the 1980s, when I visited St Paul's Cathedral, and saw my ex- English master from school on volunteer service there, to make amends. He had been a prisoner of the Japanese in WW2 and had been visibly tortured. Us boys used to mock him behind his back, which I always knew was wrong, and now I had the opportunity to collect my thoughts, greet him and thank him for being an excellent teacher and an admirable human being. I bitterly regret I flunked the opportunity and said nothing, but as I said all this to the assembled company my shame got the better of me and I wept unconsolably, possibly for the first time in my life, but they weren't the tears of self-pity.

Take whatever time you need, and I'm sure I won't be the only one very interested to read whatever you say.

Busaholic,

Thank you for your kind response. Also for being so open about your interior motivations at St Paul's Cathedral. The coincidence with your father 1957,and your contact 1967 with rail disasters is mysterious.

This contact with you is the first time I have communicated with someone else who had also been there that fateful night, it is unnerving. On first sight of seeing you 52 years ago, a civilian, doing point duty at the St Mildred's Rd. entrance to the crash site, I assumed you must have been a young railway employee. Instead you were a public spirited volunteer, one of many who gave a hand on their own initiative that night when they saw a need. Included are the neighbours who climbed over their back fences onto railway property to ply those who were working on the crash site with tea, cakes and sandwiches which helped us to keep going through the night. I will write separately about the permanent way men, engineers and middle managers whose efforts were herculean over some days and nights and although formally thanked in the Railway Accident Report they deserved much more acknowledgement.

I,like the other emergency services were there as part of our job. My tranche of young entrants to BTP Training College were required to do the St John Ambulance Certifcate training for ambulance drivers in addition to our basic police course. However, even though I had hands on experience of first aid, nothing could have prepared me for what I dealt with that night. Older officers who had done National Service or had been II World War veterans were much better prepared.

I joined the BTP in 1965 at nineteen and served until 1969 based mainly at Liverpool Street on the Eastern Region. The evening of the crash I signed myself in the BTP office on the station for a 10pm night shift which was due to be followed by two days leave. It was very quiet with only the desk Sergeant present. Normally at change over of shifts there was a lot of activity and banter between those coming on nights and those finishing. The Sergeant was busy on two phones, the internal British Railway one and the Post Office phone. He told me to make a cup of tea for him, one for myself (unusual) and make sure I had my torch with fresh batteries in it, also to put my sandwiches into my great coat pocket as I was being sent to help out on Southern Region where a major publiic incident had taken place. Another PC was due to go with me but he never turned up. In the car was a driver and Sergeant. The Sergeant reminded me of my duties with emphasis on my role as protector of the property of the injured and dead and that thieves were attracted to where there were "easy pickings". I thought he was being melodramatic but later found out he was right.

My memories are subjective and fragmented, some have been blocked out and maybe even distorted. The enduring image I have in my head as I look up the embankment at the bridge over the road at the twisted carriages is of a giant animal with its back broken and in its death throes. From 1992 to 2004 I lived at Plumstead Common and drove past the St Mildreds Road bridge a few times a week but had change my route after nearly shunting into other vehicles at the traffic lights under the bridge because my eyes would not obey me and wanted to see if that beast was still on the railway embankment.

I will stop here as I need to know how many lines of text or words I can submit on this forum?

Thanks, BTP69E.

 

[Cowley]

Busaholic,

Thank you for your kind response. Also for being so open about your interior motivations at St Paul's Cathedral. The coincidence with your father 1957,and your contact 1967 with rail disasters is mysterious.

This contact with you is the first time I have communicated with someone else who had also been there that fateful night, it is unnerving. On first sight of seeing you 52 years ago, a civilian, doing point duty at the St Mildred's Rd. entrance to the crash site, I assumed you must have been a young railway employee. Instead you were a public spirited volunteer, one of many who gave a hand on their own initiative that night when they saw a need. Included are the neighbours who climbed over their back fences onto railway property to ply those who were working on the crash site with tea, cakes and sandwiches which helped us to keep going through the night. I will write separately about the permanent way men, engineers and middle managers whose efforts were herculean over some days and nights and although formally thanked in the Railway Accident Report they deserved much more acknowledgement.

I,like the other emergency services were there as part of our job. My tranche of young entrants to BTP Training College were required to do the St John Ambulance Certifcate training for ambulance drivers in addition to our basic police course. However, even though I had hands on experience of first aid, nothing could have prepared me for what I dealt with that night. Older officers who had done National Service or had been II World War veterans were much better prepared.

I joined the BTP in 1965 at nineteen and served until 1969 based mainly at Liverpool Street on the Eastern Region. The evening of the crash I signed myself in the BTP office on the station for a 10pm night shift which was due to be followed by two days leave. It was very quiet with only the desk Sergeant present. Normally at change over of shifts there was a lot of activity and banter between those coming on nights and those finishing. The Sergeant was busy on two phones, the internal British Railway one and the Post Office phone. He told me to make a cup of tea for him, one for myself (unusual) and make sure I had my torch with fresh batteries in it, also to put my sandwiches into my great coat pocket as I was being sent to help out on Southern Region where a major publiic incident had taken place. Another PC was due to go with me but he never turned up. In the car was a driver and Sergeant. The Sergeant reminded me of my duties with emphasis on my role as protector of the property of the injured and dead and that thieves were attracted to where there were "easy pickings". I thought he was being melodramatic but later found out he was right.

My memories are subjective and fragmented, some have been blocked out and maybe even distorted. The enduring image I have in my head as I look up the embankment at the bridge over the road at the twisted carriages is of a giant animal with its back broken and in its death throes. From 1992 to 2004 I lived at Plumstead Common and drove past the St Mildreds Road bridge a few times a week but had change my route after nearly shunting into other vehicles at the traffic lights under the bridge because my eyes would not obey me and wanted to see if that beast was still on the railway embankment.

I will stop here as I need to know how many lines of text or words I can submit on this forum?

Thanks, BTP69E.

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