Verry good, thanks. I didn't need to hear this, during long night turns in my local signal boxes. Having arrived just before 22.00hrs, I settled down with a book, after it grew quiet. The exposed signal-box sometimes shook or swayed a little during the worst storms. Occasionally, there'd be the haunting call of a dog fox; adding its lonely bark to the owls, and the nightly chorus. Such nights, when everyone else were warm and snug inside. It was just turning midnight, when I heard it; that unmistakable sound of footsteps walking along the edge of the railway track, much like plate-layers walking their length. It was trackmen's duty, to walk along their part of the railway, checking for loose bolts. But that was done during the day, And it was now, past midnight. I stood up to stoke the aging coal fire, and it was than, that the footsteps sounded louder, on the stone ballast. somewhat reluctantly, I looked through the window as the moon broke through the cloud, yet there was nothing to see. Pushing any dark thoughts from my mind, I refreshed my coffee, and sat back down. I had a smoke, while gazing round and wondered how many other signalmen had spent such a lonely, stormy night here, over the past 150 years or so. It would be all the more quiet this night, because the last train had long since passed, and there was engineering due to begin soon, at the next signalbox. The storm seemed to get worse, with more thunder and lightening, some of it huge forks. I tried to continue with my book, but there it was again, the footsteps outside. But this time, after one more crunch on the ballast, the steps moved to the wooden steps, and the loud step, as though banged on purpose. I must have used those steps a hundred times, but now, I couldn't remember how many steps were banged. I sat frozen to the chair, and then as the steps reached the top, there was an almighty flash of lightening, and immediate crash of thunder, such as I'd never heard before. And there he stood at the door old Bob, the old track man; clearly wanting to come inside. I stood slowly and as I opened the door, he rushed inside. "Bloody hell; it's wild out there tonight". I turned away from him and started the kettle, to make him a brew. The Rules and Regulations required a member of the trackmen to be posted at this signal box, as a reminder of Engineering work; and Bob had arrived to be my reminder, as long as the work lasted. Bob had got a lift part of the way, then came up the track the rest of the way. "Well another eight hours, then we can go home". "Yeah" I moaned. "The Engineers train and crane have to be clear by 08.00hrs "Ain't that jolly" And we both laughed, as I handed him his brew. Those hours seemed to go a bit faster with company to talk with. Morning came, and he set off, back down the track [for a lift, he said. Then I noticed he'd not drunk his brew. I cleaned up and set off home on my motorbike. I remembered there was a message for me at the railway station, so I stopped on my way home. Chatting briefly about the stormy night, I mentioned having Bob as my reminder; which brought several odd looks. "Who did you say was there"? An old trackman, Bob"' "It couldn't have been, he was killed by a train last year. He was walking up the track, when a train caught him"... BY JACK D. HARRISON. poet/author and retired Signalman.

What a masterpiece.

"such a bleak place was this, that even in the Summer depression was rife". In a prisoner of war camp. I'm far more used to images of POW's spending the summer months playing beach cricket and ordering daiquiris, so this was a valuable insight.

Thank you very much ,I enjoyed that.

Great story telling.

Nicely done, especially the black and white effects give it a mysterious feeling, it almost scares you, as does the narrator's voice. 💯👍🏻👻💯👍🏻👻💯👍🏻👻💯👍🏻👻💯👍🏻👻

Excellent stuff 👍

Interesting film, as you cover some very familiar stories, enlivened (if that's the right word) by some good film effects too. You're nearly right with the Tay Bridge myth - the bridge was actually brought down by a terrible gust of wind, catching the High Girders just as the train passed through, rather than the waves hitting the (very badly built and manitained) piers. At least you didn't have the train falling into an existing gap, which is the usual mistake with these tales! (Most of the carriages were still inside the bridge girders 'cage' when recovered) There are a lot more stories you could have included - Birmingham New Street reputedly has a few revenants, and the house atop Clayton Tunnel also has a tale or two, not related to the collision apparently. My forebears were platelayers, who said they always dreaded an accident in a tunnel, as there is nowhere to go to escape. If you can get hold of a book "True Irish Ghost Stories', by the late Rev St John of Cappelthwaite, you'll find several railway related tales in there as well - strangely none connected with the Armagh disaster. But then ghosts never perform as we would wish them, do they?

We've got heaps of ghost trains here in Sydney. Just look at a timetable 😢

background Music to loud

Needs to cut the 'sound effects' . I couldn't understand what was being said because of them so stopped listening after 10 minutes. I reckoned it wasn't going to get any better. Let me know when the remake is made. Thank you

While I won't give this a Thumbs-Down, it hasn't earned a Thumbs-Up either. Mainly because an American influence at play here with overuse of sound effects and the background music sometimes overpowers the narrator's voice. The subject matter was interesting, nonetheless.

I c some on here r bloody deaf as they complain they can't hear narration over sound effects.