1958 BR details:
BR Nos; 60001-60034.
Location; East Coast main line King's Cross to Aberdeen.
Origin; L.N.E.R. Introduced; 1935. Designer; Sir Nigel Gresley.
Driving Wheel; 6 ft 8 in. Bogie Wheel 3 ft 2 in. Trailing wheel; 3 ft 8 in.
Weight; 165 tons 7 cwt. Tender 64 tons 19 cwt. [Corridor 60 tons 7 cwt]. Length; 71 ft 0.5 in.
Boiler Pressure; 250 lbs. sq. in. Cylinders [3]; 18.5 in x 26 in. Tractive Effort; 35,455 lb.
Coal; 9 tons. 8 tons corridor tender. Water; 5,000 gals.
Classification; 8-P/6-F.

Notes: Based on the design of 'Great Northern' A3 and streamlined for use on high speed trains between London and Edinburgh. First in service 'Silver Link' ran the first two weeks of streamlined trains unaided and without problems after an impressive debut with sustained speeds of over 100mph just 25 miles from the uphill start from Kings Cross. Later, in 1938 'Mallard' exceeded 125 mph descending Stoke Bank with relatively wide cutoff. Several of the class were later timed at over 105 mph with normal scheduled BR trains. Speeds limited as much by signalling as engine limitations, some of the best work was perhaps done in the mid-1950s with heavy trains and start-to-stop averages over long distances of over 70mph. Regarded by many to be a masterpiece of design.

In 1956 the fastest steam locomotive ever was idle between turns at Edinburgh after a non-stop from London 393 miles..

A post-war engine had failed on an important express to Aberdeen.. all new blood and custard painted carriages all clean. 'Mallard' was an 'A4' class engine with three cylinders and streamlining, designed by Sir Nigel Gresley. One of more than 23,000 steam engines in the UK. .. in this apocryphal view.

There was a war going on. If not now in 1939 still there was in 1956 something in the pride of Waverly; its engines and crews. The Scots took all turns north. Never hesitated to remind people that the first thing Hitler tried to bomb in 1939 was the Forth Bridge.

On this day the shed driver booked 'Mallard' for the 3.30pm to Aberdeen, and by some never accounted reason there was no Scottish crew available. It may have been that the booked driver had a traffic accident, or his wife was sick after a bad birth...The traffic manager was summoned. The only crew to be found was Angus MacTaggart from Polmadie. He had fired A4s such as this during the war. Worked up to Inverness and Scapa Flow during the bombing.

He was working a regular coal train from Ayreshire and his fireman was off to the pub....

"Oi!" laddie, "You wanna adventure", he called as he nodded to the traffic manager and muttered quietly, "he'll do alright"...

The traffic manager thought for a few seconds, weighing things, MacTaggart had been OK in the wartime on the one occasion they had a quiet moment together. He shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Alright" "Oi!" "You slack-arsed laggard" ... "you wanna fire 'Mallard' to Aberdeen?"

"Nope." "Mary loves ya... " ... reference to his beautiful wife's concerns, with two toddlers already. "You are cruel" ... "I've done that line on an ... mmm... 02"

But he didn't keep walking so fast. "We need you. The Gaffer needs ya" .... but he was near the shed-gate, back turned. "Mallard? you say?" he turned around. "Mallard....?" he stood with his street clothes packed and a pub not a hundred yards way. Shrugged, with twist in his mouth. "If I get double."

The traffic manager had turned his back. In fact the A4 was still clean after running-in on two trips with non-stop London... Not perfectly good, but some of the young guys liked to put extra in on this engine. It could be nice, even on a stormy spring afternoon... arrived at 7am or something.. but it was 'Mallard'. MacTaggart walked after the traffic manager, who just shrugged... "I'll fix it", and gave motion of the shoulders.

The engine had boiler pressure down now to 70lbs. The ashpan was clean... At 1.30 after a pint and half in the pub, and a hotpot. Tom climbed in the cab and looked at things. Everything was shining.. A kid with oiled rags in his hands and keen was wiping the injector glasses. The brass was clean, there wasn't even any wear on the regulator or brake. He kicked the firebox door pedal. The kid hung around. "Look at this"... he angled his head to the fierce fire, "What have you done here.. it's two hours away. Pull it down again" adding, "a bit."

He felt tired. No sleep now since he left home sixteen hours ago and the kids were screaming. Kathy wasn't looking too well on it either...and the town-planners had served notice for renewal. He showed the boy how to build a light fire to keep the pressure steady. "Throw it light, left, right, not too far and put a small amount in the middle so it can fall back on itself and you can have a cuppa."

"Ok?"... the kid had never even stood on the fastest engine in the world. Tom sat on the driver's seat, and stroked the regulator as if to check it.. and get the feel of it. The kid raked the fire. A voice from below... "Oi... outta there". A senior cleaner climbed in. Tom said nothing.

Angus MacTaggart made easy time through north-Edinburgh accelerating lightly and they rolled across the Tay. On time. Beautiful weather, the west sun fading in the haze, a nor-east storm to the left. He could feel that the engine rode so smoothly that it was maybe just as it was in 1937. Or even better. Good fire for the climb. Sat back and looked at old coal pits and broken brick-red lines of houses. The foundations for the nuclear station were over to the right under the bright sun. Farmhouses where ivory in the sun...

Before the climb began he said, "Tom this is too easy. Are you OK?" "I have the sunny side.

Working up the summit on the 1-in-70 over the hill MacTaggart got a few yellows, then, a red. Instead of being on time, they were 12 minutes late when they got a green... and had to re-start on the 1-in-70. MacTaggart said nothing, but when the train approached the summit, right alongside the signalbox, he drew a long blast on the whistle.

Tom leaned out of the cab. They had been five minutes early at the halfway point up the climb. Left standing after signals eventually after some delicate work keeping eleven cars moving at walking pace. Angus sighed just the brakes when they groaned to a comlpete halt. Kept the engine brake on and it held, coupling tight.

Home signal. Summit. Three hundred yards away. Angus smiled at Tom. "Why do we bother?" and the semaphore dropped to 'green'. Two kids arrived at the trackside, watching. One boy said to the other, "Sassenachs!"

'Mallard' took two or three breaths and slipped. Several times. In the carriages behind, a first class passenger with a turnip-watch noted in his book, "sigs". The kids looked too young to have put oil on the track. Sanders on, Angus got walking-pace quite easily, easier than the Holloway Tunnels at King's Cross...and the 3.30pm for Aberdeen crested the summit fourteen minutes late but still running at not much more than walking-pace.

The ride down the hill was one which made no concession to the diners in the one restuarant car. Angus saw the new track and flat-bottom rail and vacuum brakes steadied the engine nicely. In the carriages behind people became alarmed, with wrenching as the train rolled into curves under brakes, and it was a hard schedule.

Four minutes late at Aberdeen. Angus stood in the arrivals platform. Leaned out of the cab. Everyone walked past without comment or even a nod. "Mallard" was not noticed. Steaming quietly.