Worst thing that's happened to you on the railway (that you're willing to share)?

[Paul The Alien]

I once mistakenly allowed my 9 year old cousin to board a train that then departed without me. Thankfully his fellow passengers were kind caring women, not a gang of people traffickers. Although tbf, he probably would have bit their kneecaps off. Somehow I came out of that situation looking like the good guy, although probably only because I'm the only one in the family who is happy to take this Tasmanian Devil Child out on adventures.

Another time, with another cousin on another day trip, a girl aged 12, a man in his ~60s sat opposite us clutches his chest, and promptly keels over onto the floor, on his back, gasping and twitching. Classic heart attack. Cue a very confused (but strangely not upset!) Tweenager watching a man not much younger than the casualty desperately trying to remember his Boy Scout how to save a dying man badge. Thankfully we were in a station and so I was able to alert the driver. To this day I have no idea what happened to the poor guy. I was too busy trying to usher this still strangely fascinated child away from the scene (and figure out how the hell we were going to get home with the line blocked) before she could document his departure from this Earthly realm for the Insta.

Obviously there's been worse, but that's between me and the confessional.

 

[side effect]

Sat watching my train for Norwich leave at Chelmsford. I'm waiting for the big iron to come in and they changed the rolling stock to a 321.
Because I had a cheap ticket I had to go a purchase another. I wasn't happy as there were no announcements but the guy selling me the ticket said he had no sympathy for me as I'd got a cheap ticket in advance and missed my train. I got my money back after making a complaint but I'm only pleased I didn't lose my rag and do something silly.

 

[Javelin_55]

19th May 2018. FA Cup Final day, or Harry & Megan's wedding - take your pick.

Got on a train at Ham Street bound for Ashford. Just as the conductor was dispatching, a man in my coach suddenly collapsed in the vestibule, to the horror of his visibly distraught partner. Two other passengers leapt up to assist but weren't able to make any progress. Conductor advised the driver to hotfoot it to Ashford and for authority to exceed line speed (I don't know if he got it) The whole time I stayed out of sight - I was just a kid really, and not first aid trained. On arrival at Ashford you could hear the sirens going. I left the train quickly to keep the platform clear and to wait for my connection home, but later found the conductor and asked about the outcome. He told me the man had died before we even got to Ashford. On the way home I remembered he'd been wearing a Chelsea shirt.

That man and his family obviously had a much worse day than me, but I've always tried to help people when I can, and that feeling of helplessness has stayed with me, as well as the realisation that even people who know what they're doing can't save everyone. Today, I'm first aid trained and try to keep an eye on my fellow passengers.

 

[Ken X]

Once, when travelling on the tube with my brother, a passenger boarded with his toddler daughter on his shoulders. Unbeknownst to the parent, the child's head protruded above the doors which curved over the roof. As this chap stood in the doorway, the doors closed.

Fortunately my brother, who's a big fellow, was more on the ball than me and forcibly wrenched him down as the doors slammed shut over his daughters head. After things had calmed down, the passenger realised how close he had come to injuring his daughter.

Still remember his face at the time, he was not a happy bunny.

 

[Springs Branch]

It was getting to the end of the school summer holidays sometime in the mid-1970s and we were all at a bit of a loose end.

It was a year or two after decimalisation and we still had a handful or useless old pennies and ha'pennies knocking about the house. So one sunny afternoon I had the brilliant idea of taking my younger brother with me to the local railway line and getting the coins squashed by a train.

I hasten to add, just for the record, that this was a single-track colliery branch line where trains pottered along at a maximum of 25 mph - not a main line - and we accessed the track via a public footpath crossing. not by climbing over any fences.

All went well - some pennies onto rail and not long afterwards a Class 25 light engine appeared and obligingly squashed them.

10 minutes or so later there was the sound of another train in the distance. The rest of the coins went onto the rails and a Class 40 came pottering along with a load of loose-coupled coal wagons. A quick toot on the whistle, a cheery wave from the driver to the two young lads standing right side of the fence at the level crossing, and the rest of the pennies ended up even flatter than the first lot - much to my brother's delight.

A week or so later, we're all back at school. "Right children", said my brother's new class teacher, "today I want each of you to write me a story about the best thing you did over the summer holidays". My brother went head down, gripped his pencil and wrote "My brother and me went down to the railway tracks and . . . ." So a full written account of our excellent afternoon spent squashing pennies.

At teatime that day, my brother proudly told me about the story he'd just written for his teacher. Obviously, I had a few sleepless nights worrying about repercussions when his teacher read about all this and waiting for the you-know-what to hit the fan, including (I thought) a possible visit from the police.

But my brothers exercise book was returned to him marked in red biro by the teacher with something along the lines of "8/10. Good story - well done. But please don't play on railway tracks in future!" Nothing ever came of it.

I'm not sure if today's penchant for Duty of Care would let the incident go off so casually. And there aren't many colliery branch lines and slow coal trains any more.

 

[GRALISTAIR]

On my stag night (Oct 1980) my mates bought me a one way ticket on a night train from Preston- think it was the Royal Highlander - hoping I would sober up in Inverness!

 

[JKF]

About fifteen years ago I was dating someone who lived in South-East London and was popping down every other week on the ECML with my heavy bike, getting used to cycling between London termini since my bike couldn’t go on the tube (I think Thameslink was a building site at that time). I got to know the roads between Charring Cross and KX quite well.

On one occasion returning home there was some kind of parade going on in the middle of London with road closures (possibly Olympics-related) and my usual route north was blocked. I was soon lost on diversions not knowing where the hell I was (probably somewhere out near Old St). Eventually finding my route again via the climb up to Angel I got to KX about two minutes before departure, red-faced and panicking. To compound matters they’d subbed the usual class 91 Mk4 set for an HST, meaning the bike compartment was at the far end of the station rather than at the buffers. I may have been close on the world 200m sprint record shoving my heavily-laden Pashley bike to the far end, and just made it into the old guard’s compartment now converted as a bike carrying space.

Now another detail of the HST compared to the Mk4 stock is that the bike storage is vertical, and you have to physically lift your bike up to hang from a hook by the ceiling. Hard enough with a regular bike, mine weighs nearly 25kg (it’s an old fitter’s bike, like a butcher’s bike with a large luggage bit on the front) and the train now moving. I also had to take all my luggage out of the front as it would otherwise fall out, on a Mk4 I’d just leave it there. One of the items in my luggage was a heavy food processor I’d bought with various loose attachments in a carrier bag. As I lifted it out of the bike it swung down against my leg quite hard. In a freakish accident one of the blade attachments cut through the bag and sliced a half-inch deep gash into my left thigh just above the knee.

I’m then fighting my way down a busy train to find my seat, red faced, breathless and heart pounding, a disheveled figure carrying too many bags, blood pouring down my leg. Complete panic as I genuinely thought I was going to bleed to death as the train was now well underway. What a sight I must have been. Don’t think I was offered any help, but then people may have assumed I was just some kind of nutter given my appearance.

Wads of toilet paper soon stopped the bleeding and no lasting physical damage but I think I still carry the trauma of the compound panic and series of unexpected events that got me to that situation!

 

[mrcheek]

Starting a 14 day All Line Rover on the same day the The Beast from the East hit.

Beginning at Weston-super-Mare, my original plan was to head to London, then up the ECML to York.

At Didcot, the train was halted, and we were told that Paddington was closed.
Then we were told that because of Paddington being closed, Reading was gridlocked.
So I bailed. At this point I should have just headed home.

But I decided to try getting to London via Oxford. A train to Oxford was shown as due. After 20 minutes of waiting in the freezing cold, it was still shown as Due...
At this point I should have just headed home.

The next train to actually arrive was going to Bristol, so I got on that.
To Bristol we had a clear run, some snow, but no issues.
I decided to keep going. At Bristol I got on a XC service to Plymouth.
A nice journey in the snow, with no issues.
On arrival at Plymouth, the only train going anywhere was the XC service going back north again.
At this point I should have just headed home.

But, we had a clear run to Exeter, so I decided to get on the Waterloo service. Maybe head for Berkshire, then Reading , then home.
At Templecombe, we were stopped by frozen points.
We then went back. and back again. Back to Yeovil. We were told the train would head to Yeovil Pen Mill, then to Westbury, then to London.

I decided to bail at Westbury. Just as well, since once we got there the service was cancelled.

The only train going anywhere was a GWR service to Devon, which could get me to Taunton, and I could hopefully get home from there.
By now it was dark.
Due to a previously cancelled service, the GWR train made an extra stop at Frome. And then got stuck due to frozen points.
After an hours wait, we were told that we were going back to Westbury.
After a long wait at Westbury, they then announced we would try and get to Bristol.
A long slow journey got us to Bristol. But then, with more frozen points, and little space in the station, we were stuck just outside Temple Meads for well over an hour.
At this point I booked a hotel, realising I wouldnt get home. Sadly, the Ibis next to the station was full. The nearest Travelodge was closed, so once we finally got into Bristol, I had a long walk in the dark and in the snow to the Not-Exactly-Central- Travelodge .

Oh well, got a good nights sleep, then tried to head home. Had to wait over an hour at Bristol. For a train that took over an hour to get back to Weston-super-Mare.

 

[Sad Sprinter]

It was getting to the end of the school summer holidays sometime in the mid-1970s and we were all at a bit of a loose end.

It was a year or two after decimalisation and we still had a handful or useless old pennies and ha'pennies knocking about the house. So one sunny afternoon I had the brilliant idea of taking my younger brother with me to the local railway line and getting the coins squashed by a train.

I hasten to add, just for the record, that this was a single-track colliery branch line where trains pottered along at a maximum of 25 mph - not a main line - and we accessed the track via a public footpath crossing. not by climbing over any fences.

All went well - some pennies onto rail and not long afterwards a Class 25 light engine appeared and obligingly squashed them.

10 minutes or so later there was the sound of another train in the distance. The rest of the coins went onto the rails and a Class 40 came pottering along with a load of loose-coupled coal wagons. A quick toot on the whistle, a cheery wave from the driver to the two young lads standing right side of the fence at the level crossing, and the rest of the pennies ended up even flatter than the first lot - much to my brother's delight.

A week or so later, we're all back at school. "Right children", said my brother's new class teacher, "today I want each of you to write me a story about the best thing you did over the summer holidays". My brother went head down, gripped his pencil and wrote "My brother and me went down to the railway tracks and . . . ." So a full written account of our excellent afternoon spent squashing pennies.

At teatime that day, my brother proudly told me about the story he'd just written for his teacher. Obviously, I had a few sleepless nights worrying about repercussions when his teacher read about all this and waiting for the you-know-what to hit the fan, including (I thought) a possible visit from the police.

But my brothers exercise book was returned to him marked in red biro by the teacher with something along the lines of "8/10. Good story - well done. But please don't play on railway tracks in future!" Nothing ever came of it.

I'm not sure if today's penchant for Duty of Care would let the incident go off so casually. And there aren't many colliery branch lines and slow coal trains any more.

I had to write a similar story when I started year 4 along the lines of “seeing a GNER Eurostar go through Hampstead Heath”.

My worst thing I suppose was seeing the aftermath of someone being hit by the Heathrow Express back in 2009. There was also the 2016 Wandsworth Common incident where a passenger had decapitated himself by leaning out the carriage window. I had arrived at the station from the public footpath just moments before they took out the headless body. A couple of women spectators were in tears after just witnessing the sight.

 

[Skiddaw]

That must have been horrid....

Slightly on a similar theme, I travelled from Reading to London for a training course the day before the Ladbroke Grove accident (October 1999). There but for the grace of God....

 

[sh24]

Witnessing a one under at the age of 8 wasn’t great… Have seen and heard several more since.

Various overnight antics and missing trains pale into insignificance.

 

[Bletchleyite]

Being on a train that hit someone. I won't give detail but it was obvious what had happened. The driver came on the PA shortly afterwards and was in bits.

It happened at a station on the CLC Liverpool-Manchester line that was on a curve (Glazebrook?) and I'm convinced I saw him on the platform just before, but it might be my mind playing tricks.

 

[Sun Chariot]

Being on a train that hit someone. I won't give detail but it was obvious what had happened. The driver came on the PA shortly afterwards and was in bits.

Our son saw a person's body just after they'd been hit. Whilst horrific for the victim, the driver and the victim's loved ones, our son's autism and learning disabilities actually meant he was unfazed at the sight; and he told us in such a "matter of fact" way, he could've been telling us about the weather for all we knew...

I worked in Marylebone when 7/7 happened. I'd left Edgware Road H&C station less than 5 minutes before the bomb went off. A friend of mine lost a work colleague due to the Russell Square bomb. Such a sad and surreal day.

 

[Gloster]

Probably having to go and check that someone who had jumped off a bridge and bounced off the headcode box of a Classs 50 was dead. With his head at that angle there was no doubt about…but it is true that dead people do look different. All part of the job.

 

[Peter Sarf]

Head not too far out of the drop down window in the door on an EPB (slammer) as we headed West past Slade Green depot.
Sat back down and next thing I know a series of bangs and the door right next to me where I had been disappeared.
I pulled the communication cord.

Hardest part was the guard insisting it was me who had opened the door.
Police arrived and one noted the damage to my train forward of where I was sat.
Commented that it would be hard for me to have done that !.
Turns out the train in the opposite direction had a door open and had done some damage down our train.

Lesson learnt.
Don't call for help - quietly move away.

 

[trainophile]

Starting a 14 day All Line Rover on the same day the The Beast from the East hit.

Beginning at Weston-super-Mare, my original plan was to head to London, then up the ECML to York.

At Didcot, the train was halted, and we were told that Paddington was closed.
Then we were told that because of Paddington being closed, Reading was gridlocked.
So I bailed. At this point I should have just headed home.

But I decided to try getting to London via Oxford. A train to Oxford was shown as due. After 20 minutes of waiting in the freezing cold, it was still shown as Due...
At this point I should have just headed home.

The next train to actually arrive was going to Bristol, so I got on that.
To Bristol we had a clear run, some snow, but no issues.
I decided to keep going. At Bristol I got on a XC service to Plymouth.
A nice journey in the snow, with no issues.
On arrival at Plymouth, the only train going anywhere was the XC service going back north again.
At this point I should have just headed home.

But, we had a clear run to Exeter, so I decided to get on the Waterloo service. Maybe head for Berkshire, then Reading , then home.
At Templecombe, we were stopped by frozen points.
We then went back. and back again. Back to Yeovil. We were told the train would head to Yeovil Pen Mill, then to Westbury, then to London.

I decided to bail at Westbury. Just as well, since once we got there the service was cancelled.

The only train going anywhere was a GWR service to Devon, which could get me to Taunton, and I could hopefully get home from there.
By now it was dark.
Due to a previously cancelled service, the GWR train made an extra stop at Frome. And then got stuck due to frozen points.
After an hours wait, we were told that we were going back to Westbury.
After a long wait at Westbury, they then announced we would try and get to Bristol.
A long slow journey got us to Bristol. But then, with more frozen points, and little space in the station, we were stuck just outside Temple Meads for well over an hour.
At this point I booked a hotel, realising I wouldnt get home. Sadly, the Ibis next to the station was full. The nearest Travelodge was closed, so once we finally got into Bristol, I had a long walk in the dark and in the snow to the Not-Exactly-Central- Travelodge .

Oh well, got a good nights sleep, then tried to head home. Had to wait over an hour at Bristol. For a train that took over an hour to get back to Weston-super-Mare.

Thank you for that, it's really made me grateful that it wasn't me! Hilarious account, although I'm sure it didn't feel hilarious at the time.

 

[43066]

Being on a train that hit someone. I won't give detail but it was obvious what had happened. The driver came on the PA shortly afterwards and was in bits.

It happened at a station on the CLC Liverpool-Manchester line that was on a curve (Glazebrook?) and I'm convinced I saw him on the platform just before, but it might be my mind playing tricks.

Sadly that scenario , or similar, will be the case for many, I suspect. It is for me.

Apart from that, mine is probably a person going to the toilet in the worst possible way, so to speak, into a little nest of toilet paper they’d made on the floor next a toilet cubicle (!), and proceeding to fall asleep beside it. Needless to say the train was taken out of service. It was absolutely disgusting and frankly made me lose what little faith I had left in the human race.

Closely followed by finding toe nail clippings on the seat of a networker - absolutely vile.

Sat back down and next thing I know a series of bangs and the door right next to me where I had been disappeared.
I pulled the communication cord.

That was a narrow escape!

 

[Sun Chariot]

Apart from that, mine is probably a person going to the toilet in the worst possible way, so to speak, into a little nest of toilet paper they’d made on the floor next a toilet cubicle (!), and proceeding to fall asleep beside it. Needless to say the train was taken out of service.

I'm guilty of adding a "layer" onto Stirling station's four-foot.
A hot early morning, August 1990. A rather delicate stomach from the previous night. My Inverness-bound service arrived; 47541 The Queen Mother heartily spewing flames and smoke from its cantrail vents. It soon became clear that my gut content needed to leave more promptly than my train would.
I made use of the lavatory at the end of a Mk1 TSO.
My brother's excited running commentary, from the platform, suggested it was audible to platform passers-by. I finished, I hesitated, I flushed... I then heard the astounded voice of my sibling: "Cor - LOGGG!".
I went back onto the platform, to verify my feat. It was still bubbling on the sleepers...

 

[43066]

I'm guilty of adding a "layer" onto Stirling station's four-foot.
A hot early morning, August 1990. A rather delicate stomach from the previous night. My Inverness-bound service arrived; 47541 The Queen Mother heartily spewing flames and smoke from its cantrail vents. It soon became clear that my gut content needed to leave more promptly than my train would.
I made use of the lavatory at the end of a Mk1 TSO.
My brother's excited running commentary, from the platform, suggested it was audible to platform passers-by. I finished, I hesitated, I flushed... I then heard the astounded voice of my sibling: "Cor - LOGGG!".
I went back onto the platform, to verify my feat. It was still bubbling on the sleepers...

Very good . Thank goodness for CET facilities.

I imagine quite a few p-way staffs’ worst railway experience will have been a toilet flushing at the wrong moment on a passing train, as they were standing in the cess. Before our HSTs were retired they always made a point of turning away from the train as we approached!

 

[A S Leib]

Thankfully not one where anybody was at particular risk of being hurt; mine was having a train from Düsseldorf to Aachen cancelled, not being able to board the following Thalys to Brussels due to it being fully booked and spending the following three hours or so terrified that I was going to miss the last train of the day from Brussels to London with little money on me.

I don't know if it's normally the case, but at Midi/Zuid the Eurostar train was said to have been held as a result of multiple delayed connections, which seems a particularly good decision for the last train of the night across a border with passport control. As a result I was still queueing for security / passport checks when my train should have left.

With the benefit of it being in the past, the funniest bit about it is that I'd been using an Interrail pass and had got to Berlin Hbf early enough that morning that I could have reached Aachen an hour earlier and avoided the situation; I just wanted to stick to the service I had a seat reservation for.

 

[Trackman]

There's a quite a few, anyway, here's one:
At Wigan North Western about 30 years ago, a class 150 rolled backwards from P1 with the doors open with a woman trying to leave with a baby buggy.
It took a few seconds for me to actually realize we were actually rolling backwards downhill.

 

[Cowley]

I suppose mine would have to be the time I had my head out of the window about four coaches back from a class 47 leaving Teignmouth one summer’s day in about 1988 heading towards Newton Abbot.

The driver braked briefly and I watched a spark come off the brake blocks of the loco and still glowing, float in the air all the way down the train (I guess it wasn’t moving but we were actually) and hit me in the left eye.

That night I went to bed feeling like I had a scratch under my eyelid and being only about 15 I decided to try and ignore the problem, however the next day (a Sunday) I was going off with my father and stepbrother for a day on the trains around Bristol and I woke up unable to open my eyes properly!

A car journey to the Exeter Eye Infirmary then followed where after some investigation (and if you’re squeamish you may want to stop reading at this point), they told me that because I hadn’t immediately sought medical attention the eye had grown a new film over the bit of cack (which had also gone rusty) and it would have to be dug out after being anaesthetised using eyedrops, with a needle…
This was (as I’m sure you can imagine) a fairly traumatic experience to say the least and even now my left eye has blurred vision due to the damage on the retina.

After that (and complete with massive comedy eye bandage), you’ll be pleased to know that we did in fact still make it up to Bristol that day (behind 50028 if you’re interested).

 

[Peter Sarf]

I'm guilty of adding a "layer" onto Stirling station's four-foot.
A hot early morning, August 1990. A rather delicate stomach from the previous night. My Inverness-bound service arrived; 47541 The Queen Mother heartily spewing flames and smoke from its cantrail vents. It soon became clear that my gut content needed to leave more promptly than my train would.
I made use of the lavatory at the end of a Mk1 TSO.
My brother's excited running commentary, from the platform, suggested it was audible to platform passers-by. I finished, I hesitated, I flushed... I then heard the astounded voice of my sibling: "Cor - LOGGG!".
I went back onto the platform, to verify my feat. It was still bubbling on the sleepers...

I must confess that got me giggling. There is nothing like - er toilet humour !.

Very good . Thank goodness for CET facilities.

I imagine quite a few p-way staffs’ worst railway experience will have been a toilet flushing at the wrong moment on a passing train, as they were standing in the cess. Before our HSTs were retired they always made a point of turning away from the train as we approached!

Brings back memories. I think on the South Western mainline, four tracks anyway. I was looking out the droplight, train coming the opposite way had steam coming from under the coaches. Next thing I know I have got bits in my face and mouth. I determined it was not steam !.

 

[Spamcan81]

On a narrow gauge heritage line in South Africa back in 2007. Riding a mixed train in a gondola car when the train ran away with the driver caling “brakes! brakes!”. The brake wheel was seized solid and with the train gathering speed we just jumped for it. One chap cracked three ribs, another knocked himself out and another took a chunk out of his backside. Fortunately the rest of us jumpers escaped relatively unscathed.

 

[Cowley]

On a narrow gauge heritage line in South Africa back in 2007. Riding a mixed train in a gondola car when the train ran away with the driver caling “brakes! brakes!”. The brake wheel was seized solid and with the train gathering speed we just jumped for it. One chap cracked three ribs, another knocked himself out and another took a chunk out of his backside. Fortunately the rest of us jumpers escaped relatively unscathed.

Now that’s a good story!

 

[Jimmi]

Worst to happen to me was once when I was alighting from a service at Grantham, as I went to step off the train, some big brute of a man proceeded to surge his way on-board shoving me back into the vestibule and hurled abuse at me.

 

[Peter Mugridge]

About 35 years or so ago I was on a 302 out of Fenchurch Street; somewhere between Barking and Upminster ( those with long LTS memories will probably know exactly where!! ) the window immediately in front of me suddenly vanished in a cloud of fragments all over the inside of the carriage - and the matching window on the opposite side vanished outwards... suggesting someone with an air gun was taking pot shots at passing trains.

Upon arrival at Upminster, I simply got off the train normally and went to catch the "Rominster" shuttle ( a 305 in those days ) as planned...

 

[Egg Centric]

Mine all involve toilets, alcohol, or both I think. While I cannot remember its exact contents, I still remember the station announcement 15 years ago at West Ham tube that started along the lines of "to the man urinating on the Jubilee platforms" and ended with "oh god no". I was very, very chastened. Ish.

 

[Egg Centric]

Once, when travelling on the tube with my brother, a passenger boarded with his toddler daughter on his shoulders. Unbeknownst to the parent, the child's head protruded above the doors which curved over the roof. As this chap stood in the doorway, the doors closed.

Fortunately my brother, who's a big fellow, was more on the ball than me and forcibly wrenched him down as the doors slammed shut over his daughters head. After things had calmed down, the passenger realised how close he had come to injuring his daughter.

Still remember his face at the time, he was not a happy bunny.

Somehow this resonates with me (probably due to personal circumstances) much more than the other sad stories on this thread - on behalf of the unhappy bunny thank you so much

 

[Spamcan81]

Worst to happen to me was once when I was alighting from a service at Grantham, as I went to step off the train, some big brute of a man proceeded to surge his way on-board shoving me back into the vestibule and hurled abuse at me.

Me and the wife had similar on the Harz several years ago from a large German woman. Fortunately I speak German so was able to give her a taste of her own medicine in her native tongue. The look on her face was priceless.