So, The Self Impotent Railway Guard
 

Well it was another day 'on the buses'.

The duty was early morning service 13 from Haig Avenue Coldean. The timing was generous for the early part of the journey, with little traffic and only picking up passengers. Rather than leave on time, and crawl along, making a nuisance of oneself to other traffic, or killing time at stops, most conductors would ring you off a couple of minutes late, knowing that by the time one reached the first dropping off stops, the bus would be back on time.

There we are sitting at the terminal stop, as the start time arrived, and seated in the first nearside seat to the rear of the doors was a british Rail guard, resplendant in his uniform, with slashed, 'SS type' peaked cap and complete with his two bags, with furled red and green flags peering from one and a flask top from the other.

Suddenly from below the slashed peak, a gutteral voice growled,"Are you going to move this ...... bus today'' ?. As usual, my butt is airborne as I move to climb from the cab. "Stay there Mate, he ain't worth it". says the conductor, as he goes on to explain to Mr. 'Self Impotence', why we leave late and the benefit to anyone at this stop, who found themselves running late.
"If they can't be here on time, they don't deserve to catch the thing", snarls the gawds gift to guardsmanship.
The conductor taps my window with a coin, I shut the doors, and move off,(about two minutes late).

By coincidence, the next morning I had an overtime split shift, which put me on the same detail, (the conductor was a regular on the route ).

So I was sitting in my cab, with the conductor standing in the footwell behind me, and talking through the hatch, what about?, well, the 'Galloping Guard', who else?. Well you may ask why I now call him the galloping Guard, I will tell you. Just then the conductor looks back through the bus and spots him 'galloping' down the road, arms flailing, bags swinging and sadly we were already seconds past our official departure time.
With a heavy heart and much guilt and remorse, the conductor says "wind it up mate and I'll ring you off as he gets here".
Engine running, finger on the door button, then he arrives by the door, breathing like one of his steam engines, climbing a mountain.

There was a coin tap on the glass, the door closed, the bus moved off and the Galloping Guard, tried to stop mid lunge and fell on the pavement with his bags hitting the ground and the flask, doing a good impression of a low velocity high trajectory grenade as it arched from the bag into a perfect detonation with the ground.

The other passengers, regulars on the route were in hysterics as one shouted " If they can't be here on time, they don't deserve to catch it".

Yes the report went in, nothing more heard.

Just-'Another day on the buses'.

I remember boarding a train in Brighton once and accidentally treading on a Railway guards foot in the process. I said "sorry mate" he said "what for" I trod on your foot. "Oh did you he said.....I wouldnt know".
He had an artificial leg

I remember boarding a train in Brighton once and accidentally treading on a Railway guards foot in the process. I said "sorry mate" he said "what for" I trod on your foot. "Oh did you he said.....I wouldnt know".
He had an artificial leg

It is a good job you put that in twice Billyboy, or I'd have thought you were pulling my leg.

??? how did that happen...the gremlins are into my keyboard again..... ArrrrrrrH!. never had this trouble on the Southdown did we.

Actually Mate we did.

What other Bus companies called 'duplicates', we called reliefs. Ha ha.

Used to loove the busy times in the summer on the 12 road. 3 bells and flat out to pool Valley and let the relief pick the rest up heh heh heh. extra cuppa (well stewed)

Yes, going out of Pool Valley, I sometimes got one of the sea front mystery tour coaches, (with Conductor). For a 12 road relief, Jack looked after me.