MIKE Grundy's excellent railway article reminds me of the days before the Second World War when it was almost every lad's ambition to become an engine driver.

The first step was to obtain appropriate employment on the railway and that was not easy.

The Great Western Railway had a family tradition with preference given to the sons of railwaymen. I had a railwayman uncle and three older cousins but this hardly put me in the same category. However, my opportunity did arise with vacancies for two greasers at Shrub Hill.

In company with about 60 other applicants, I sat a written examination in maths and dictation. Now I knew perfectly well how to spell the word "guard" and I will never know to this day how I came to transpose the letter "u" and "a" but this I did on three occasions and realised it before the paper was collected in.

Next followed a colour blindness test and then the crucial interview.

"Recite the last poem you learnt at school," commanded the interviewer.

I responded with John Milton's On His Blindness which was not the last, but one I thought I did rather well.

The interviewer listened appreciatively then signalled me to stop. Dramatically, he recited the concluding seven lines. Here was a poetry enthusiast like myself. My hopes began to soar.

I never got the job. "You were caught off your guard," was the verdict.

JOHN G HINTON, Worcester