If the LMLR cap fits …

Local lad (sorry) as guard – he also supervised ‘The Bug’ at times. Look at the loading and the coats!!!

This is a relatively difficult blog to write, because I must confess my note-making about the volunteers at the LMLR is pitiful: I focused much more on the trains and the running of trains to make notes or even remember the names of everybody who helped. There were plenty! We had Little Melton residents, the spouses and partners and relatives of the drivers, and the few youngsters and parents who’d be there.

I never ever thought I’d be in agreement with the late film director Michael Winner, but in his Radio 4 account of his youthful trip to America in ‘My Teenage Diary’, he said, if I recall correctly, that there was regret that he didn’t photograph his companions as much: he’d photograph a bridge or some other object rather than those with whom he shared the journey. As for my time at the LMLR, I think I understand Mr Winner’s sentiments and wish I’d taken better pictures and more video, but then I had no plans to publish these memories. Thank heavens I took as much video as I did.

However, it’s with gratitude that the ‘recreational railways’ team acknowledge the work of the Ashmanhaugh Light Railway, both in providing home for LMLR rolling stock, but in this case for their blog. Last year, they published a blog entry summarising the LMLR History: we have referred to this original document in earlier blog entries and yes, that we lost our copies (we had two over the years: an early and then a revised copy). You can read their summary by clicking HERE, or use a search engine for ‘Ashmanhaugh Light Railway’ and finding the blog entry for “16th September 2015”. ‘Recreational railways’ wishes to emphasise that in the following paragraphs where needed to refer to the ALR blog entry for a correct name, we make the comment “thanks ALR”, and we mean that. We remain embarrassed about our memory and also lack of making notes. But, importantly, “thanks, ALR”.

Again, if you can help rectify many other oversights, please contact us using the ‘Contacts’ tab above, scroll to the top and look top right.

Bob as guard

The LMLR was on Bob Brett’s land. Here’s Bob. We met Bob earlier, and I’m sure would want to share the limelight with all of his LMLR volunteers.

Reg and Norman performing the change over between petrol and steam power.

Norman Duffield and Reg Ives were friends, whose two locos were ‘The General’ and ‘Hotspur’. Above is Norman driving ‘Hotspur’ – named after his father-in-law’s regular loco from Norwich shed (70011 Hotspur), and then there’s Reg, in the background having shunted ‘The General’ so that ‘Hotspur’ could perform haulage over the Paddock line.

Edwin watches Norman help Hotspur to raise steam using the forced draught technique. Blower on Hotspur’s chimney

Edwin Peck built ‘Sir Mathew’, the gazebo and plenty of other wooden structures.


Close of play – Norman counts the takings, Christine and Mrs Duffield (Margaret – thanks ALR) advise

Norman’s and Reg’s and Edwin’s wives all helped out too. They would guard, – and if my memory is correct, I spoke to Norman’s wife Margaret (thanks ALR) when she was guard on the Old Piggeries line back in September 1995 when I first visited the railway – they would run the ticket office and I dare say helped run all the additional things that enhanced the visit, because, as my late dad (who I think was slightly jealous in the few months he saw me at the LMLR and whose cap I used) would say, people always like a cup of tea. Too right, particularly at close of play in the darker months.

Memory jogger – I think Mrs Peck was Christine – can anyone confirm?

‘Mrs Sid’ (sorry again) watches Norman.

I am so sorry that I didn’t collect or remember names -please forgive me.

There was a rumour that it wasn’t Santa, but Peter, but why wouldn’t the real Santa drop by to play trains?

Peter, again if my memory is correct, was usually Edwin’s guard. His wife too visited the railway, as I remember her at close of play in the tearoom when everybody gathered for a brew and a chat, and maybe a warm-up and dry-up after particularly poor weather. She also helped out in the grotto at Christmas, as there was a rumour that the real Santa was unavailable, and that Peter would substitute, although I wouldn’t put it past the real Santa to turn up and play trains … (he smiled).

Sid relaxes in the tea rooms at close of play, with relatives of staff, locals or those with the nominated charity.

Sid ran the model railway. His wife (sorry again) ran the souvenir stall on Melton Wood Junction.

Mike keeps the traffic moving.

Mike was our electronics wizard and ‘the bobby’ (signalman). Sometimes he came out to play as a guard, but mainly Mike ensured the correct train went into the correct route or platform, and that all of the signals worked – yes, we were track circuited and had colour light signals.

Bob thanks those who ran the tea room on this running day.

Again I apologise for the lack of names or surnames: this is entirely my youthful ignorance, my jackdaw-like selective re-call and my now middle-aged memory. If you can help with names, please contact us.

On one occasional I was driver – I can’t remember if it was Thunderbox or The General. My very efficient young guard should have been fire cadetting that day, but instead helped us out. I’ve forgotten her name. Again I’ve forgotten the name of the local lad who ran the bug and also appears as Bob’s guard on occasion: you can see him on duty in the picture at the top of this blog entry.

But I remember James, and I remember Alex. Both regular attenders and volunteers. Like me, both railway mad. Like me, both learning how to run a railway.

Alex came from Hethersett, I think, and I am pretty sure it was his dad Malcolm (thanks ALR) who built ‘Ben’. I was away from the railway for much of 1997 until revisiting in the summer of 1999, when Bob told me the sad news about Alex, which I won’t discuss here. Alex was unfailingly enthusiastic about the railway, and in the picture of Ben below, it’s Alex at the controls for the Saturday morning maintenance routine. Alex may also have been one of Santa’s elves.

Alex and Ben.

Here is Malcolm (thanks ALR) in charge of Ben.

Alex’s dad Malcolm, with Ben, awaiting the ‘right away’.

James was local, but too young to be a full volunteer. After the last passenger train, James at times would, under supervision, drive ‘The General’ back to the shed. When Anglia Railways (remember them?!) sold some of their turquoise hats, or gave them to preservationists to sell on, I bought myself an Inter City conductor’s hat, and a spare Anglia one which I gave to James.

Norman and James discuss a point – a normally trailing, but now facing point, that is – when putting away Hotspur.

It is important to look as if you belong, and there’s something much more authoritative about a cap than a fluorescent bib. James’s mum would bring him to the railway and stay, and I hope note the pleasure he derived and, let’s not forget this, gain early experience of team-work.

Hello James, here’s the proof that you drove: after close of play, James is at the controls, asking if The General reverses the stock up to the running shed.

There were also those from charities who came along with stalls and entertainment.


Please don’t be too critical of my lack of recall or memory of names. I hope that over the years you the reader can help with completing the blanks to create the account of the Little Melton Light Railway and the people who made it happen.


Oh yes. There was one other, a part-timer. Me. I still have the cap, the badge (a blue Hymek) and the fluorescent jacket; I may even still have the shirt. The fluorescent jacket is serviceable and utilised, as I wear it when I use a bicycle. It didn’t have LMLR on it; perhaps I should have rescued one? I still have the LMS Greatcoat worn on occasions, somewhere in a wardrobe.

Hello to any former LMLR volunteers reading this. I hope this tribute website is doing justice to the railway: please help me complete the names?

(And once again, thanks ALR for the summary of the history which has helped with some of the details in this blog entry.)


Yes, I remember Thunderbox …



Bob and Thunderbox … please overlook Thunderbox’s impression of an extended range fuel tank loco .

Most, if not all, of the LMLR memorabilia featured a certain locomotive: Thunderbox.


You remember Thunderbox, don’t you? How could you forget?! It looked like a hut with a kennel attached, it had a balustrade on the cab roof (where it was easy to forget you’d left the fuel can, or your cap), and a motor car horn of some vintage. If you don’t remember that, you will remember hearing Thunderbox before seeing it: the engine roared, the bell clanged and the horn parp-parped before departure and at crossings and stations.

tbox for Santa

Thunderbox ready for Santa Specials.

You would remember Thunderbox.

Thunderbox was wooden bodied, metal chassised, and had a petrol engine with a mechanical transmission. The loco was carried by one powered two axle bogie underneath the bonnet, and one unpowered two-axle trailer bogie, underneath the cab. These seemed to hold the track quite well. If you want the technical details, you can visit the site of Thunderbox’s current home, the Ashmanhaugh Light Railway and read about the engine, the transmission and the builder.

We at the LMLR tribute site wishes to tell you about what Thunderbox meant and what it was like to drive.

Thunderbox was Bob’s loco. You could consider that they were one and the same on running days, but, as Bob’s illness progressed, there were times when Bob took a break, or was guard. Nevertheless Bob and Thunderbox were inseparable: perhaps that’s an exaggeration, but most people will understand the sentiment.


Tbox Santa special

Thunderbox on one of the many Santa Specials

Thunderbox roared: perhaps that’s why Thunderbox was a doubly apt name. Maybe one day we’ll work out how to add audio to this tribute site, so you could appreciate the ‘thrash’ as Thunderbox lifted a fully laden train from the tunnel up to Point Cottage. Occasionally Thunderbox would struggle on that gradient, particularly in wet, leafy conditions on aluminium rail, and then the more athletic or enthusiastic guard would dismount and act as a banker. When you’re pushing a train uphill to keep time, possibly in the wet, the attraction of a loud engine struggling for grip loses its appeal, but revives with nostalgia with the passing of the years.

Thunderbox required strength to drive, or at least wrist stamina. To engage drive, the joystick needed to be pushed forward and held, or pulled backwards and held, and to apply power, the twist grip – like a motorcycle throttle – had to be twisted and held. There were two gears in each direction, as well as neutral. Engage, twist and hold was fine on the downhill stretch when the Old Piggeries line met the main circuit, but required endurance on lifting the train from the bend towards the long climb to and through the tunnel and beyond, and then again once clearing Point Cottage.


tbox backwards

Thunderbox in reverse, downhill – Bob in charge. Notice the leaves on the line.

On every second trip on the Old Piggeries route, Thunderbox hauled the train cab first: this meant backwards. There was a mirror, but this was mainly for checking the train behind during forward running, but for a reasonable look-out, you had to lean out and turn your neck, whilst engaging gear and keeping that throttle twisted. Furthermore, the long descent from the junction to the bend leading to the tunnel could be exciting as we had no continuous brake: Thunderbox had a handbrake and careful drivers. After the long coast down to the curve, Thunderbox would ‘open up’, and roar towards the tunnel, clanging, parping, and then roaring away up towards Point Cottage, maybe exchanging engine greetings with Hotspur in the later years, as the Romulus passed by in the opposite direction where the Paddock line came close to the main circuit.


Thunderbox lifts another Old Piggeries train from Point Cottage.

Point Cottage had the train operated points: Thunderbox took the ‘Lost Line’, which meant pushing the point lever forwards. A practiced or skilled driver could do this under motion, although this was a more awkward procedure in reverse, and the Lost Line curved to the right and continued to rise briefly. The Vine Cottage route required drawing the lever backwards, all fine if you had power to spare, as had Sir Mathew Pilgrim or Ben, although maybe those crews would wish to disagree.

Occasionally Thunderbox was sick. Sometimes the bigger locos were required for traffic levels. Sometimes Bob wasn’t there. Much as Ben, Sir Mathew, The General and Hotspur were all LMLR locos, as were the crews, Thunderbox was the LMLR’s talisman, the LMLR’s symbol.

Tbox tableau

Screen shot tableau – clockwise from to left: Thunderbox cab  first with a well loaded train on the Trestle Bridge, Thunderbox departs The Old Piggeries, Thunderbox passing the model railway shed heading back to The Old Piggeries, Thunderbox passing the colour llight protecting the junction just before Melton Wood Junction.

I drove Thunderbox on occasion, I think at least once – memory fades or becomes obscured with time. I can vouch for engaging the gear, and keeping the throttle twisted, and the fast descent, and the roar of the engine! Bob might have been my guard that day, and it was good for Bob and the public to meet when clipping tickets, as with Bob driving (and an efficient guard, or so we brag) there was little time during a busy running day to chat.

tbox ashman

Thunderbox resting at Ashmanhaugh. Notice the ALR number.

After closure, Thunderbox found a new home. Eventually we went to see it. We gave Thunderbox a big hug; it was just like seeing an old friend. We doubt that there are any gradients for some ‘thrash’, for some audio delight from the power unit, but perhaps that’s for the best – Thunderbox gave everything on those climbs, and maybe a relatively flat track would be a better place to enjoy Thunderbox as a machine, and prolong its chance to bring pleasure to rail fans of all ages.

To conclude this tribute to Thunderbox, there is just one last thing: one day Bob said to me, and you’ll have to imagine Bob’s gentle Norfolk accent here, “do you know why it’s called Thunderbox?” On saying no, Bob lifted the driver’s seat cushion to reveal a wooden seat with a hole in it. Underneath the hole, was a white, probably porcelain bowl, about the size of a soup plate, and the depth of a basin. “That’s why it’s Thunderbox” chuckled Bob, although we can’t remember if Bob called Thunderbox he, she or it.


Lest it be unclear, Thunderbox’s structure incorporated a commode. Or did it? Was this an impish sense of humour to include the pot or, although thankfully never used (we hope), perhaps it was unique: unlike most, maybe all, 7¼” railways, at least one of our trains had a toilet. If only we’d thought of an at seat trolley service… .


A not for profit railway


The crews arrive. That’s a puddle. Rain didn’t stop play.

The Little Melton Light Railway ran for fun – or at least I hope it was fun when the rain lashed down, or the snow fell, but time dulls that memory. It wasn’t always sunny.

The Little Melton Light Railway also ran to help local charities.

*** Here’s where I need your help – I disposed of most of my paper ephemera a long time ago: this included my LMLR history, and also the annual list of running days and charities. Yes, every month’s profit went to a nominated charity AND that charity was invited to use the barn for stalls and other attractions.

Without any of the annual list of running days, I am struggling to remember any of the charities EXCEPT for Musical Keys, and the only reason I remember that one is because I bought a pencil with the name of the charity embossed on it. I think I still have books bought from other stalls at other events.


Some of ‘our’ memorabilia from ‘our’ shop. A coaster. Photo taken July 2016.

*** If anyone has one of the lists please can you contact us using the contact function at the top of the page?

***Also if you have any ephemera – tickets, the history guide, book marks, other coasters, pens, pencils, erasers – please let me know.

I’d love to know what happened to the display of photos, as I have only a blurred screen shot of these, reproduced below, and they show the railway before I joined. The beginnings of the LMLR – anyone possess any original or even good photographic reproductions of this board?

the picture history

Picture history of the beginnings.


A charity sets up the stalls in the barn.

Some charities put a lot of effort into their day. The barn would be packed with stalls, the charity would tell their supporters about the LMLR, and both car parks would be ‘wedged’, to use an enthusiasts’ term.  One charity brought a fire engine. The running side would be busy. I recall many a day shoving Thunderbox’s train uphill to try to return to The Old Piggeries to collect more passengers, memories of snatched cups of tea whilst the train loaded and racing to uncouple, ticket check and couple again.


Yes, one of our charities brought a fire engine to the railway.

I was on car park duty on one day when we had to open one of the empty paddocks as  overflow parking, because there were so many visitors. I became a temporary crossing keeper. Good weather helped, and so did marketing; I discovered the LMLR from a poster in the window of the Salvation Army shop in one of the alleys off the Market Place in Norwich.

Occasionally, and I never helped out on these, Bob opened the railway to provide a train ride for schools, which had to book in advance. I knew this happened because the tea room displayed many of the thank you letters and pictures sent to the railway by the children who had a ride.

So, please, I hope you can help fill in the gaps regarding charities and other LMLR related memorabilia.

“The Piggeries” route


Marked in red on the map is the route of “The Piggeries Return” route. There are a few thumbnail pictures to show what you might see on the route. All images on this page and this blog, unless marked otherwise, are copyright ‘recreational railways’.


Thunderbox returns to the shed, day’s work over, with empty stock, heading back to the carriage sheds, over the Trestle Bridge. Bob drives.


Do you remember those wet days, brollies up, as Thunderbox charged towards Point Cottage, sometimes running parallel with Hotspur on the adjacent route? Can you remember the ‘parp parp’ of Thunderbox’s antique motor horn, the clang of the bell, the roar of the engine, the wait on those busy busy days when the charity attending really marketed the event to their members, and when our regular visitors came out in their numbers, particularly on the days when the sun shone? Does anyone remember Meg? Do you remember the sound as Ben drew a packed train over the Trestle bridge, or the thrilling descent from the junction down through the wood? Did anyone use ‘The Bug’ to chase the train? Does the LMLR remind you of childhood in Norfolk? Wasn’t Thunderbox a funny looking thing, and did you ever ask why he was named ‘Thunderbox’?

If you do, then you remember “The Piggeries” route on the now long closed LMLR.


The route:

The nearest car park to the entrance would lead you to the out and back run of ‘The Piggeries’. This was usually Thunderbox’s run, although Ben, the huge yellow hydraulic, would occasionally substitute. There were times when we were so busy, two trains would operate the route, The General and his shorter train arriving to assist.


Thunderbox arrives at The Old Piggeries.

The first train of the day would be empty stock from the sheds, past Melton Wood Junction and taking the left hand route underneath the footbridge. Thunderbox would be run round the stock, the guard would chock the wheels of the coaches, move the cushion, guard’s seat notice and, as I always tried to do, tail-lamp to the correct end. Bob, or the driver that day, would shackle the loco to the train, and unchock the wheels.

Thunderbox could drive in either direction, similarly ‘The General’ or ‘Ben’, although Ben’s revering visibility didn’t appear to be great, although I never ever drove it. These three engines worked the Piggeries route, but it is always Thunderbox’s route to me.


Thunderbox runs round: Ticket Office for the route is to the right.

Tickets for the route were sold on a per journey basis form the ticket office. When the train was ready, after the guard had clipped the tickets and advised keeping seated and hands within the train, the guard informed the signal box by pressing the start button on the ticket office wall. This set the light on the bug’s shelter to green. The guard gave the right-away, Bob gave Thunderbox’s horn a good ‘parp’, or tugged the chord to the bell, engaged forward gear, perhaps a touch of throttle, released the handbrake and the engine roared away.


“All fares and tickets please.” A yellow Piggeries ticket from 1997. 

On the left was the hand pumped ‘bug’ – a 20p-a-go hand cranked trolley on a separate isolated track, mainly for children (or when I had a camera for tracking shots of Thunderbox) to be their own driver. The main line bore to the right, and over the Trestle bridge, where the observant could see the gnomes fishing. The track turned left, and joined the main circuit, shared with the Melton Wood Junction trains.


Thunderbox, tool box first, with a well-loaded train, starts the descent.

The main circuit was one way, track-circuited and mainly signal controlled. After joining the main circuit, the line descended quite quickly, so sensible drivers chose to coast through the woods as there was a sharp right hand curve at the culmination of the descent.


The approach to the tunnel.

The driver would open the throttle on the bend, as the line started the climb again, passing through the tunnel. ‘Moinde yaar hid!” was really a storage shed for timber, but was once an intermediate block section during Santa Specials where there was musical entertainment, but more on that in later blogs.


Thunderbox heads away from the tunnel and towards Point Cottage.

The line continued to climb, coming within sight of Green Lane, and then up to Point Cottage. This was the junction where the Piggeries line took the “Lost Line” short cut back, whereas the Melton Wood “First Class Circular Tour” headed higher, past Vine Cottage, through the carriage shed and re-joined the “Lost Line” just before the signal box. “Point Cottage” housed the driver operated point, which was biased against the Vine Cottage route: the “Lost Line” meant pushing the lever forwards, so Thunderbox which, let’s be honest, sometimes struggled with a full, heavy train in poor rail conditions, could take the rising right hand exit of the turnout whilst moving: Sir Mathew Pilgrim, with power to spare, often had to stop, draw back the shaft operating the point, and then romp away – or that’s how it sounded – up hill towards Vine Cottage.


Thunderbox takes the Lost Line away from Point Cottage.


One of the gnomes stands sentinel at the junction post beyond Point Cottage.

The signalman knew what was coming, and had a signal to hold either line as it approached Melton Wood Junction. The “Lost Line” had a photo-electric sensor, which ran a bell as a train approached, and there was a colour light signal protecting the approach junction: “Vine Cottage” line had a cable operated semaphore signal just after the Santa Special excursion platform.


The view from the signal box: Ben is held at the signal on the Lost Line, the bell continuing to ring in the signal box.

Depending on if there was a train in Melton Wood Junction, and sometimes when there wasn’t, the Piggeries train used the loop line next to the fence. This re-joined the platform road immediately before the junction. The left hand signal on the footbridge had a route indicator to show whether the train took the left hand curve for the Piggeries line, or the main circuit.


Ben has the signal and the route indicator for Piggeries, and takes the loop around Sir Mathew Pilgrim at Melton Wood Junction.

The Piggeries train passed behind the exhibition shed, then bore right to a colour light signal controlled junction at the Trestle bridge: as there were times when The Piggeries had two trains in action, this signal protected anything between the bridge and The Old Piggeries, operated on a one strain in steam principle, and track circuited.


“All change please.” The Bug route is on the right.

The train stopped just before the station on most occasions, to allow passengers to disembark, rather than cause congestion of The Old Piggeries station itself. I recall on many occasions that the station was packed, so allowing families off first was a very sensible decision. A sensible guard moved the cushion, guard seat notice. As if it was the first train of the day, but with greater haste, we’d draw to a halt alongside the platform, chock the wheels and prepare to load, quickly, as some of those normal running days were very popular.


It’s Saturday morning: track walk the day before a running day. Memory says it is the Alex at the controls of Ben for the track checking run.

We had fun on some of those hills! True modern railway fans would love the ‘thrash’ as Thunderbox charged that hill, revving away in that high pitch, struggling for grip, particularly on days when the weather was against us. All that, and it was a decent length of ride, for 50p per passenger.

Long closed, the Little Melton Light Railway. But there were other routes too.

The circuit

When it closed around 2002, there were three distinct runs on the Little Melton Light Railway: the return loop of ‘The Old Piggeries’, and two circular routes, both starting at ‘Melton Wood Junction’. One was the longer run, including two tunnels, whereas the shorter route operated by the railway’s steam loco ‘Hotspur’ included a reasonably steep short climb and a diamond crossing.

The track diagram below shows the routes before ‘Hotspur’s’ line was constructed: this is a screen shot, slightly enhanced by computer program, from one of the many Hi-8 videos I shot when I wasn’t involved in guard, car park or driving duties. As the blog develops, it is pictures from this that will illustrate many of the descriptions, as well as the handful of stills I took when I had a moment.


If you have LMLR pictures that you’d like to share, please contact the author using one of the tabs at the top of the screen.

You might notice from the track diagram that there are lights. The LMLR was track circuited and had signals. The diagram was in the signal box, above the window facing the approach of all three lines – Paddock Wood, Lost Line and Vine Cottage Line.

Underneath is a rudimentary map of the final extent of the LMLR, showing locations of stations, buildings, names, all of which we will explore over the following months as the blog develops.



The Little Melton Light Railway – introduction

This is an internet tribute to the Little Melton Light Railway, the LMLR. The blog is created by a one-time volunteer, a grateful volunteer who thoroughly enjoyed the companionship of such splendid folk.

The Little Melton Light Railway was a 7¼inch gauge miniature railway, located not far from the city of Norwich in the United Kingdom. The railway opened once a month, throughout the year, and profits from fares went to a nominated charity. Those charities also had the barn in which to have displays, sales and other attractions.

Bob Brett lived on site. It was his land and property on which the LMLR existed. Bob drove ‘Thunderbox’, a wooden bodied lawnmower engine driven locomotive. Thunderbox, which I drove on occasion in the latter years of the railway, was probably the best known loco, and as a machine you had to push (or pull) the lever to engage drive, keep it there, and keep the twist throttle twisted. Downhill Thunderbox had a decent turn of speed, and would be the main loco on the Piggeries and return route: this meant that every second trip, Thunderbox ran backwards… thank heavens for mirrors.


Thunderbox passes Melton Wood Junction, in reverse, heading for The Piggeries. Bob drives Thunderbox, Mike is at the rear, working as the guard – a change from being Signalman! Photo courtesy & copyright ‘Little Melton Light Railway Tribute’.

There were other locos, other people, and lots of visitors. I wonder if I’m best qualified to write this internet tribute, as I was only an occasional volunteer.

Oh yes – there were the animals too.

Sadly after illness, Bob passed away. The LMLR can to an end soon after, but happily many of the LMLR locos and rolling stock survive at another railway in Norfolk. I loved the LMLR because it was a railway, while a student it meant I worked with people who weren’t students, and during my working life, it helped me do something practical rather than just a desk job.

As the months progress, I will add more photos, some stills from video, and more text about the LMLR. There was a history written, which you could buy for a few pence from the souvenir shop; hopefully I will find a copy and add to it.

In the great scheme of things, the LMLR was just another small railway which went from nowhere to nowhere: but we loved it. I hope that this tribute site will reflect that affection.

It seems that there are many miniature railways that arrive, blossom, and then like ephemera, disappear, leaving only happy memories.