They got into the appliance,

The Sub he then booked out,

They sped out of the station,

That night their only shout.

 

On arrival at the fireground,

The whins were burning still,

They drove the pump up Rockview Lane,

To the mast upon the hill.

 

The pump it stopped outside the gate,

Where the lane had led them to,

All around was lit up,

With the flashing streaks of blue.

 

The crew then walked across the field,

And the bushes they did beat,

Meanwhile the driver of the pump,

Was still sitting in his seat.

 

No one knows the reason why,

He let the pump roll back,

The only thing Big Ivor saw,

Was it running off the track.

 

When the crew they came back,

They saw the pump was stuck,

Ivor had already gone,

To find a tractor – just his luck!

 

And sure enough they managed,

To pull it back on the track,

The driver who shall be nameless,

To the station he then drove back.

 

And so back at the station,

The mud they washed away,

No trace of what had happened,

So, no one could ever say.

 

But little did the driver know,

The word was spreading fast,

Of how the pump had got bogged in,

On the hill up by the mast

 

Written & submitted by Alan Harper