The Battle on the Footplate

They’d never got on before the dance

And they certainly wouldn’t now,

For Geoffrey Raise had showered praise

On the Fireman’s girl, somehow,

And she, Charlene, was impressed, it seems

With the Engine driver’s call,

And changed her date, though it seemed too late

To the Fireman, at the ball.

 

They stood on the plate of the Duke of Kent

With the fireman raising steam,

Shovelling coal to the firebox

In a movement swift and clean,

He scattered the coals on the glowing bed

With a practised twist of his wrist,

While the driver kept his eyes ahead

As the steam built up, and hissed.

 

‘Why did you jump on Charlene then,’

Said the Fireman, Henry Rice,

During a break, his back was bent

With sweat, but his eyes were ice,

‘I don’t have to answer to you,’ said Raise,

‘Charlene was anyone’s girl,

I liked the way that she held herself

And she sure knew how to twirl.’

 

The train pulled out of the station with

A puff and a cloud of steam,

And clattered along the track from Klifft

On its way to Essingdean,

Pulling a dozen coaches and

A Guards van at the rear,

And a hundred and twenty passengers

At the high time of the year.

 

‘What would you say if I did to you

What you did to me, back then,

Cutting in on your date that night,

What was her name, that Gwen?’

‘She wouldn’t have looked at you,’ said Raise,

As he pulled the chord to toot,

‘And as far as your feelings go, old chum,

I really don’t give a hoot.’

 

The train was rocketing down the line,

And flew past the water tower,

While Raise had opened the c***s right up

To give the Express more power,

The gauge was inching at sixty five

As they flew past Barton Dale,

While Rice was shovelling coal once more

Though his face was pinched and pale.

 

He took Raise down with the shovel as

They raced through Weston Town,

Who lay, half stunned on the footplate

Hanging off and looking down.

He kicked on out at the Fireman with

His size twelve steel-capped boots,

Who reached and hung on the chord that gave

The Duke of Kent its toots.

 

The train was racking up seventy five

As they kicked and punched and swore

Totally out of control it passed

The Halt at Elsinore,

They narrowly missed a rumbling freight

As the points took it aside,

While Raise had yelled, ‘You can go to hell,

But control your wounded pride.’

 

The Fireman opened the firebox

Spraying hot coals on the plate,

‘Now dance again as you danced Charlene,

If you think that you’re oh so great.’

‘Just let me get to my feet,’ said Raise

‘Or you’re going to wreck the train.’

‘It might be time,’ said the Fireman,

‘For your life to fill with pain.’

 

They hit the buffers at Essingdean

And the engine left the track,

It leapt up over the platform as

The roof ripped off the stack.

Raise was told when they went to court

That he’d never be re-hired,

And Rice, for want of the girl he sought,

The Fireman was fired.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Barbz]

Charlene, Charlene, you are not at the root of all this evil and chaos. It was the men with their overblown egos and their acts of vengeance, that, by the order of the court, got their due! I just wonder how many battles fought, since time began, over the Fairer Sex......I can only imagine......Of course, who but you, DLP, could be that descriptive.......very well done...Barbz

[R Smith]

the jealousy of men i guess David, it had to lead to a fight in just about the worst circumstances, a great poem it just rockets along rather like a train and the action is frightening all the way to the buffers, great work David :)

[A Soap Mess Stories]

A great battle over a woman. Great story.

[sereenaoutloud]

You always weave such fun stories in your writes,your descriptions and attention to detail bring your worlds to life,,,,,Amazing imagery!
Love this! :)

[andrew mitchell]

A different but equally clever story of your norm with all the troubles you associate fighting over a girl.

[Willard Wells]

While I greatly appreciate the female of our species, I have never found fighting over someone a correct response. You either pick up your game or pick up your s**t and go home.

I have to say you had me on the engine with them as they fought. I had to look down to avoid the coals. Nice work. Thanks,

[Marie]

Well they were certainly foolish men, quarreling over a girl and forgetting their responsibilities to the train and to their passengers. That must have been a really exciting ride. I know it was for me.

[Confuser]

David: You did it again; Charlene! This is another fabulous writing!!! It's like reading a suspense novel. Your descriptions are so vivid, you're just amazing. I loved it!! Thank you so very much. Dale

[ANTO]

I liked the pace of this. It brought back memories of a Saturday morning at the TV watching Casey Jones - there was always a good fight on the moving train and the action had my childhood excitement at fever pitch.
I was glad that no-one was killed though it could have been so different. I was waiting on them both dying and the whole issue on board too. Great tale DLP.
Was it inspired by the Battle of the (river) Plate?

[Valentine]

Interesting write, I am just trying to guess where these towns are located. I do not ever want to get on a train where ever it is. I like the flow and how this held my interest until the end. Valentine

[Tomás Ó C..]

I thought one was going to end up in the firebox! Oh women😧 and what they drive us men to do!!!