British Railway Stinks: The Life and Work of Britain's Last Railway Chemists

My early years in Normanton, Derby, during the war may have impacted on me, as did both my grandfathers. It was only latterly that I realised how they may have influenced my life. One was mischievous and the other quite a famous chemist at Steel Peach and Tozers in Sheffield. My exposure to them was mainly limited as we moved to Sheffield for only a few years after the war and then back to a more rural area near Littleover, Derby.

My maternal grandfather had an intoxicating effect. When he was charged with looking after me, when I was about two years old, he would ply me with tea which had a soporific effect. I was to learn later that milk was normally white and that Grandpa’s milk was brown mainly because it was brandy. So, I learnt some chemistry from him — and I am still on the brown milk.

I moved from Sheffield aged about six and was absorbed into a gang of boys in Havenbaulk Avenue. They were a menace to the neighbourhood and well known for mischief-making. Calcium carbide was readily available for use in lamps in those days, but we found it was useful for making bombs. Calcium carbide mixed with water generates acetylene gas which is highly flammable. The fun we had with carbide bombs in people’s gardens or nearby fields was enormous.

My Uncle Sid was also influential in providing me with chemicals and equipment; not just the standard chemistry kit for children of the age of about 14 or 15. Sid’s included sodium metal, and my brother and I took great delight in placing pieces of this in my father’s water butt. The explosions were memorable: just one small piece of sodium would cause a huge fountain of water to shoot up in the air, frightening the neighbours who had not forgotten the war and the sound of bombs and depth charges.

I went to a secondary school where, for most, the greatest expectations were to work on farms, clean the streets or, if you had talent, become an apprentice. I chose mischief-making as a career until the headmaster caned me three times in two weeks. He said he was going to win and perhaps I should use my talents better. I chose to take an exam and passed to go to college and get some GCEs, with chemistry and maths being my favourite subjects. At college I met John Hudson who worked at BR’s Derby Calvert Street laboratory, who told me they would employ anyone. So, when I decided to continue my degree part-time, it came to pass that I joined, aged 19, an organisation of amazing people who gave me wonderful opportunities.

It was here that I became absorbed in the application of science for more beneficial purposes and hopefully to the benefit of the railway. Occasionally this necessitated me taking risks. I became involved in the writing of national standards at the British Standards Institute (BSI) in 1990 by accident (Jim Ward sent me to a meeting to represent BR). It was my pleasure to chair several committees, including those on environmental performance and occupational health and safety management systems. This led to me to representing the UK across the world, drafting standards for the International Standards Organisation (ISO) and the European body CEN.

It is perhaps surprising, considering my past as a Stink, that I should have had the honour of chairing the international committee (ISO) on occupational health and safety management that produced ISO 45001 in 2018. The irony of this appointment, considering my previous adventures, was pointed out by Sara Walton at BSI who gave me the impetus to produce this book. The standard will (hopefully) be adopted by hundreds of thousands of organisations trying to make the workplace safer, and it is hoped that 0.5-million organisations will have adopted it within ten years of publication.