WAY BACK IN THE 1960s, the future of O Gauge seemed uncertain with the demise of Bassett-Lowke and other well-known names. From time to time, I would buy an edition of The Railway Modeller magazine and other publications hoping to measure signs of a re-growth of interest in the hobby, though I confess I was never a regular reader. As time went by, encouragingly the articles and advertisements therein seemed to offer a glimmer of hope with a gradually widening range of available kits and components. But for me, a sole operator since the mid- 1950s, drifting along with my railway in almost total isolation unaware of the existence of local model railway clubs or the newly formed O Gauge Guild, the outlook appeared somewhat bleak.

During the 1960s I recall the thrill of discovering, quite often by chance, cramped dimly-lit second-hand shops down dark back streets in our towns and cities which sometimes sold items of O Gauge, recapturing one’s boyish enthusiasm and keeping the hope alive. Even if a purchase was for a nondescript open wagon, it would at least make a modest goods train seem a little longer. Full of expectancy, one might return later to the same shop, only to find the premises empty, boarded up and for sale. It was this unplanned haphazard way of trying to pursue the hobby which prompted me to engage in scratchbuilding locomotives and other rolling stock in search of a better sense of direction whilst working within a tight budget.

Then, unexpectedly in 1966, Triang launched the Big-Big Train range which included their ‘Blue Flyer’ scale model of a diesel Hymek and a toy-like blue or bright yellow 0-4-0 Ruston shunter amongst other accessories including coaches and wagons. Many of us at the time will have grasped the opportunity to purchase some of these items to run, either just as they were, straight out of the box or with a view to making minor modifications to improve them, especially the battery powered locomotives, to suit our individual needs.

Attracted by their low cost, I remember acquiring two of each from my nearby toy shop. The Hymeks needed little alteration, usually the removal of the Blue Flyer raised emblem on each side. I introduced cab partitions and drivers’ consoles, replaced the couplings and, after a total repaint, glazed the windows. I chose British Railways two tone green for one, and for the other, the new British Rail blue. The former I subsequently re-modelled to an even higher detailing standard by fitting a Wagon and Carriage Works 2-rail electric conversion kit marketed during the 1980s. The kit’s main features were heavy white metal bogie side frames and two can motors each driving a bogie with all eight wheels powered with Delrin chain drive.

It remains one of the heaviest and most powerful locomotives in my stud and will pull down a house. Encouraged by the results of my modest surgery with this newish material, plastic, I then set about applying a face-lift modifying the blue shunter by reducing the height of its lofty cab to fit within O gauge loading limits, enabling it to pass through my garden railway tunnel. I changed the couplings, shortened the control levers, spray painted the body satin black and applied LMS transfers and fictitious cab-side numbers. After the chunky red coupling rods had been painted silver (perhaps they should have remained red) the result was a reasonably convincing though non-prototypical, unobtrusive little workhorse, albeit still battery powered.

But recently my attention has been focussed on the remaining yellow shunter, having failed to sell it for a tenner(or offers below) at a local swap meet. I felt therefore that it should have a future elsewhere, perhaps back on my layout in another guise. Whilst considering this, I looked at 0-4-0 full size prototypes, and a Hunslet, Barclay or Peckett saddle tank seemed an appropriate option. I settled for a Peckett type, in this case, number 1687 built in 1926 whichhad served at the CWS Shilbottle Colliery in Northumberland according to a Peckett website, and eventually scrapped. I have chosen however to ignore reality, turn back the clock, rescue it (in a sense) and paint it in Great Western livery following the example of No 2004 belonging to the Tyseley Locomotive Society in Birmingham which I believe at one time appeared in this livery.

From the same website, I obtained side and front elevation drawings of the locomotive and, using a printer to enlarge them to a precise 7mm scale, superimposed these over my own side elevation drawings of the Triang shunter. I found the two chassis to be a near match, although the wheel centres differed. My plan was to retain much of the toy’s battery-powered chassis utilising its electric motor but apply some judicious butchery to shorten its overall length to the correct dimension thereby removing the bulky black plastic convex bumpers. So, yes – there would be compromises made from the waist down to disguise to some extent the loco’s original parentage, but above that line I would construct in brass a near-scale Peckett body to sit on top.

At this point I realised that this would, of necessity, have to be a none-too-serious low cost project which would have little or no appeal to the purist, but for me on this occasion, I could lower my sights, cast aside my straight face, and have a little fun. Also, I recognised and accepted fully the limitations of battery power which seemed a backward step, but I pressed on in the belief that I would be able to drive it ‘hands on’, doing a little shunting here and there.

Fortuitously, so small is this locomotive that it would be possible to construct it, almost in its entirety, using discarded bits and pieces of brass sheet, rods, tube, also components I had no further use for, such as a chimney, dome, hand rail knobs, buffers and couplings from my spares boxes. I would only need to buy a pair of cab-side works plates. I should add that those items found which included chimney, dome and buffers are not strictly prototypical for this particular locomotive, but I felt that I should be permitted a degree of customisation and individuality in the case of one such industrial Peckett, as any manner of quirkiness seems to add to their charm. This locomotive when finished would then sit happily, even if a little self-consciously, on my 2-rail electric coarse scale GWR/LNE/Metropolitan Joint Line messing about in my yards. On special occasions it would be allowed out with a short goods train (or perhaps a heavy lengthy one to slow it down) when I just need to sit and relax watching a train trundle round and round the circuit. Spurred on by this vision, I set to work.

With the paper templates cut out and affixed to brass sheet with Copydex, (applied to the metal, not the paper) each item was cut out with scissors, hacksaw or shaped with a needle file. These relatively few parts included boiler/saddle tank, smokebox door front pieces, two cab sides, front and rear panels plus cab roof, and a small footplate panel to cover the gap between the front buffer beam and smokebox. The saddle was cut to length and the shape carefully formed by hand, applying thumb pressure around a broom-stick handle held horizontally and firmly in a vice. With adroit manipulation and repeated references to the front elevation drawing to achieve the required curvature and resisting the temptation to squeeze it in the vice, the danger of forming nasty tell-tale ridges along the semi-circular saddle body was avoided. The tighter radii required at the lower corners were formed around a piece of wood with its sharp edge rounded off, also held in the vice. This part of the locomotive was the most crucial element to get right, upon which all else depended.

With the first application of the soldering iron, the smokebox front panel was fitted into the saddle. Already an engine appeared to be taking shape and was, encouragingly, instantly recognisable.

Next, the cab parts were cut out. Beading in the form of thin brass rod was applied around the upper edge of the cab-side openings and continued downward to form the vertical handrails. Small holes for the spectacle plates were drilled and opened out gradually by using progressively larger drill bits, I deliberately made use of a blunt drill for the final cut from both sides of each hole equally. As expected, this formed the required pronounced burr arising around each hole which could be gently filed down to form an integral brass ring giving a ‘thickness’ to the window openings and ‘frames’ for the windows. These can later be finished as polished brass frames after the painting stage. (Readers may interpret this as a short-cut trick-of-the-trade which may be rightly frowned upon by all professionals.)

The four sides of the cab were joined together using only a little solder; too much solder and therefore too much heat tends to distort and pull inwards the cab’s thin side panels. Having ensured that the structure was square, the midway strips of flat horizontal bands were applied with Loctite around the cab sides and rear panel together with one lamp bracket placed centrally at the rear. I remember some care was needed handling these small parts to avoid ‘Loctiting’ myself to the cab; soldering may be the preferred option. I always choose where possible to make a cab roof removable by soldering onto its underside four thin brass rod ‘legs’ which when fitted into the cab, locate securely downwards into each corner.

It was now time to join the boiler/saddle to the cab front with just one small application of solder placed centrally on the inside. More solder may be run along the tinned total length of the join when it is established that everything is in line vertically and horizontally, square and correct. The convex smoke-box door was made using the concave bottom of a small depressurised hair-spray can onto which were attached two thin brass strap hinges using Loctite. (It is absolutely essential to empty the spray can before making the first incision.) The complete hinge with vertical bar was formed at the right hand side of the door using the same adhesive. Behind the smoke-box door is another plate sandwiched between the saddle-tank which happens to be in copper as my stock of brass was running low. Through all of these was drilled a hole centrally to take a small nut and bolt which formed the door locking handle. One lamp bracket was then fixed centrally on the front saddle panel. Twelve more holes were drilled into the saddle-tank for the handrail knobs which were fitted with hand rails.

A line was then drawn centrally along the top of the full length of the locomotive’s saddle tank to mark out the exact positions of the chimney, water filler lid and dome, each drilled with a pilot hole and all to be fitted later. The cab roof had already received its whistle. That, for the time being almost completed the superstructure.

Mindful that I had now reached the point of no return for the shunter in its original form, the lengthy toy plastic chassis needed to be shortened overall, dispensing with the wrap-around bumper ends together with their couplings and front body-retaining lever. The remaining outer body-skirting panels were sawn off to reveal the chassis frames, with the exception of the motor encasing panels, towards the rear of the offside. The large un-sprung business-like buffers and pre-painted buffer beams were obtained from a friend and fellow modeller’s unwanted 16mm scale wagon kit and fitted with brass angle brackets to the plastic chassis frames. The vertical coupling slots had already been altered to form smaller horizontal slots to accept the single link couplings. I made one set of cabside footplate steps in brass to be fitted later to the nearside cab entrance. The position of the electric motor prevents the fitting a set of offside cab steps.

Next, a pair of cylinders was constructed using copper pipe, each fitted internally with a beech wood dowel drilled out centrally to accept a small brass tube into which the piston rods would locate. Each pair of slide bars was made from ‘00’ 4mm scale rail and soldered at the front end to washers. Brackets were soldered across the rear open ends and the completed assemblies were then attached to the rear ends of the cylinders using Araldite. I formed a broad brass band to act as a cylinder stretcher bar to which the cylinders were attached, also with Araldite. This component slid into place down angled cuts into the front edges of the plastic frames aligning with the rear driving wheel centres and was bolted centrally and securely to the footplate above.

Further modification involved the removal of the four copper current pick-up blades on the top surface of the chassis, originally designed to accept four 1.5v LR14 batteries – two pairs side by side. This was modified to take only two similar batteries sitting snugly in a half segment of plumbers’ plastic pipe in order to fit inside the narrow Peckett boiler. The segment of pipe was attached with Araldite to the removable black plastic switch-gear cover plate. As the two batteries needed to be re-positioned further to the rear, this caused the rear battery to extend well into cab interior but fortunately a Peckett’s firebox extends likewise well into its cab. It would have been a straightforward task to form a band of brass to represent this end of the boiler and attach a suitably detailed back plate but the whole structure would have been vastly overscale. The cab interior therefore was left untouched with the battery end exposed. The stop/go and forward/reverse control levers extending from the chassis sides were reduced in length and painted black to make them less conspicuous.

After the twin cylinder unit was slotted into the locomotive frames, a pair of connecting rods was made together with a pair of crossheads fashioned from discarded white metal castings and piston rods made from a suitable size of common nail. The existing chunky plastic coupling rods were substituted by a slimmer scale pair in metal found in the spares box whose wheel centres matched perfectly. This process was quite time-consuming but nevertheless satisfying when fitting up and seeing the motion run freely in action for the first time.

I then stripped down the whole chassis, removed the cylinders and all motion, the wheels and motor assembly (attached neatly by Triang with a locating slot at the rear end and a single screw at the front) and also the buffer beams. I cleaned up the now considerably altered chassis, masked the copper blades and sprayed it all satin black. Re-assembly of the total chassis followed including the fitting of two single link couplings, compatible with my LMC, Exley, Bassett-Lowke, Bing and scratch-built rolling stock.

It was now time to return to the body and secure it to the chassis using small screws front and rear. I made partial representation of sand boxes within the limited space available and prepared some brass pipework to be fitted along both sides under the saddle tank. Some of the plastic switchgear cover plate was removed to make room for the downward loops in the pipework at each side.

After satisfactory test-running in a temporary wired-up state, the body was removed from its chassis and sprayed grey primer and the following day, in Great Western Loco Green. Transfers were applied and number plates, originally destined for a ‘Butler Henderson’, were fitted to the cab-sides to be replaced by Peckett works’ plates in due course. At the same time, the connecting and coupling rods were painted red and brass buffer heads painted satin black. The brightly shining slide bars and crossheads were dirtied with Tourmaline, Liberon’s Antiquing Fluid. The previously severed wires between the motor below and the switchgear on the footplate were reconnected, two batteries installed, the chimney, brass dome and water filler lid were attached and a coat of satin varnish applied to the bodywork.

Having dispensed with two of the four heavy batteries, I was concerned that the locomotive may be too lightweight for satisfactory traction; however, the brass content in its upper bodywork was sufficient to compensate, so the small quantity of lead weight intended for application amidships was not required. With lamps slotted in place fore and aft, the loco was ready to enter service. It was at this late stage that I realised that the size of the black plastic motor encasing panel below the off-side cab entrance was too obtrusive and should be reduced in size – most certainly shortened in length – a simple little job for the future.

I can recommend this modest and inexpensive exercise for anyone tempted to have a shot at scratch-building as nothing of great value will be lost if it doesn’t all go according to plan. On the credit side, some valuable and rewarding experience may be gained along the way. I find the process of learning never ceases and the satisfaction of overcoming minor obstacles is reward enough. I shall use the new little engine as a means of introducing to our hobby my one-year-old grandson in due course having already identified clear signs of his enthusiasm for objects that run on rails, presumably already embodied in his DNA. Although perhaps when he is older and has gained much in wisdom, he will no doubt admonish me for having ruined and devalued a perfectly acceptable example of a toy from the Neo-Plastic Period.

Six modified items from the Triang Big-Big Train range fulfilling their purpose as useful additions to my locomotive shed and goods yard.