One morning, Flying Scotsman was being filled up with coal at Tidmouth. He had worked a railtour to Sodor the previous day, and was being prepared for his return trip. As he was waiting for refuelling to be completed, he saw Stepney steam past with a rather odd looking, low slung bogie wagon. He instantly knew what it was.
"Great Scott!" he said. "That's a brake tender! I had no idea any of those had survived."
"Beats me," Stepney said. "I didn't know what it was either."
"A brake tender," explained Flying Scotsman, "is a device that has weights in it, which is used to help a heavy train slow down. They were frequently paired with diesels, who often had weaker brakes than steam engines. But who is it for?"
"Me, of course," said a voice. With that, BoCo rolled into the yard and gently into the tender. He was pulling a long train of unfitted wagons. Filthy Rich hopped out of the cab and hooked BoCo up to it.
"It doesn't look like a tender," Sweetie Belle pondered. "It has no coal or water in it!"
"Diesel engines don't need either," Filthy Rich laughed. "But I think this is one of only a handful left in the world."
"One of only two," BoCo replied. "The other's somewhere in the Midlands. But seeing this again certainly brings back memories. I remember when I was given mine, not long after I was built."
"Could you tell us the story?" Spitfire asked.
"Of course!" BoCo replied, and the story began...
1957
An inspector had come to the Midland Region to investigate the success of the BR Modernisation Program. Many designs of diesels had been built to see which practices worked best and which didn't, and in one case query whether it was money well spent. As he observed, D5705, then newly built and entered into traffic, rattled through with a rake of loaded wagons, smoke belching from his engines.
"Were those unfitted wagons?" he asked the manager.
"Yes, they were," the manager said. "But he was only doing 35 miles per hour."
"That's unsafe railway practice," said the inspector. "Trains hauled by Type 2 diesels must have brake tenders fitted, as they have far lower braking force than steam engines."
"I am sorry," the manager replied. "I was not aware."
"I have a solution, though," said the inspector. "The Eastern Region is experimenting with brake tenders. These are rail vehicles filled with loose metal that help a diesel slow down. That'd work perfectly for your lower rated diesels. I'll call Doncaster and ask if they can send you one. Apart from that, modernisation is proceeding on time and on budget."
"I'll alert the diesels to this new innovation," the manager said. The next morning, he spoke to D5705, and told him what the inspector had said. "From now on," he said, "until we can replace our unfitted wagons with fitted wagons, we will be pairing you with a brake tender."
"A what?" D5705 asked. A small, odd, green and yellow wagon sat in front of him.
"A brake tender is a rail vehicle filled with loose metal that help a diesel slow down," the manager replied, repeating what the inspector had told him yesterday. "Here at Barrow, we have lots of unfitted wagons, so equipment like this will be absolutely vital. I want you to give it a test on an unfitted goods to Carnforth later today."
"Yes sir," D5705 replied. He was later attached to classmate D5701, and both diesels were coupled into the goods, which was long and heavy. Then another diesel shunted the brake tender into place in front of him. "Why is it at the front? I thought they were normally at the back!"
"I thought likewise," said the diesel, a Brush Type 4. "But the yard manager told me to put it in front."
"How will I see where I'm going?" asked BoCo, confused.
"Easy!" said the driver. "Leave that to me." And so, the long, heavy goods train set off, both diesels roaring and belching smoke. At first, nothing went wrong. But then, as he waited to enter Carnforth Yard, a Jinty flew past laughing.
"Doesn't he look silly!" said the Jinty. "Tenders go at the back, not the front!"
More and more engines kept giving the two diesels nonsense, until D5705 had had enough. "That's it," he said. "We'll leave it here. We handled those trucks fine without it, and we'll do it again."
Later, a foreman arrived to tell them something. "There's been a track issue on the Cumbrian Coast," he said. "We're routing all trains up to Oxenholme, and sending them back via Hincaster Junction. You'll have to run round your train at Oxenholme yard and proceed back down the line."
D5705 didn't like the sound of that. "Can't we just top and tail, with one diesel on each end?" he suggested.
"Good idea!" said the foreman. "D5701, stay where you are. D5705, work to the other end!"
A Duchess, watching from nearby, looked concerned as the two diesels departed, sans brake tender. "That's not good," she said. "If they're going via Hincaster, they'll have difficulty controlling speed with that lot."
The lines climbs sharply from Carnforth to Oxenholme, and the extra weight, even with two diesels supplying power, made the run slow going. At last, they reached Oxenholme, and reversed direction to access the junction. But as they rolled away, the trucks all slammed into each other. "Faster! Faster! As fast as you want!"
"What the?" said D5705. Both drivers slammed on their brakes as they tried to control the weight of the train, but it was no use. Speed continued to climb as they roared towards Hincaster Junction, and when they hit the speed restricted curve, it was too late. Engines and trucks tipped over and derailed, with the wagons being scattered all over the West Coast Mainline, and both diesels being deposited in a nearby field. "Oh dear."
The manager was not happy. When he arrived at the scene with the breakdown train, he had much to say. "Now both of the major rail lines in the area are blocked," he said. "Where is your brake tender?"
"Back in Carnforth," D5705 replied. "I left it there after a Jinty mocked me over it."
"I'll give him an earful," said the manager.
"Sir, railway locomotives don't have ea-"
"Yes, thank you Bernard."
D5705 was soon back in working order, and always took his brake tender with him. As for the Jinty, well... let's just say he had several long weeks of nothing but shunting.