"THERE YOU ARE CHARLIE, HAVE A HOT CHOP!" We had departed from Naracoorte about 11.30 p.m. to work a Freight Train to Mount Gambier and it was about 6.30 a.m. next morning when we were held at Kalangadoo to allow a passenger train to pass. This meant waiting on the passing siding for about an hour, to allow the passenger train to catch up and then go ahead for at least one section. The break was welcome because it had been a hard night. Things had not been going well, we had a heavy load and an engine which was not steaming too well on the poor quality coal we were using. We had anticipated the long delay to do the 'pass', so had been through our tucker boxes,to find something solid to cook for breakfast. The result had been a chop, two sausages, two eggs, some bread, butter and plenty of tea. The eggs had been wrapped in wet cotton waste and placed against the face plate of the boiler behind the injector. This hot spot would cook a couple of eggs in 20 minutes, depending on whether they were to be soft, medium or hard boiled. The chops were grilled on the lip of the firehole door. With the red hot fire door glowing above and the head of the steel lip underneath it was possible to grill meat to a degree which would be the envy of any chef. Charlie, who was my fireman on this train, took the hot chop on a thick slab of buttered bread, liberally drenched it with worcestershire sauce, and took a hungry bite. '0 hell and damn' he yelled, 'I forgot to put my teeth in', at the same time dived his free hand into a pocket of his jacket, which was hanging in the corner of the cabin. Charlie had invested in a new set of dentures but they had been aggravating his gums, resulting in an ulcer or two. To relieve the discomfort he had removed his teeth quite early in the night. With his expression changing rapidly to that of puzzlement, he continued to search his pockets and then his tucker box, but the result was always negative. 'There lies a bloody mystery,' he remarked, 'The only thing I can think of is that I have dropped them in the tender when I went up to take water at Penola.' He immediately disappeared up the back of the tender, returning a few minutes later again having drawn a blank. 'Well,' he said, 'I must have dropped them amongst the coal, which means they could be up the funnel by now. Anyhow I can't take that chance, so I will have to be careful that I don't toss them in the fire box from now on.' During this time I had put Charlie's chop aside for him near the fire box to keep it warm. Without his teeth he reckoned it would be an impossible task to eat it, so he tossed it into the fire box. He scoffed the still warm eggs, finishing with some bread and butter, washing it down with a pint of strong hot tea which I had made for him. By this time the 'pass' had been completed, the section cleared ahead, and we were once again ready to depart. When clear of the station yard I suggested to Chalie that I take the shovel, while he searched the coal for the missing teeth. He accepted the offer, immediately taking a convenient position by the shovel plate. So there we were, Charlie searching whilst I was shovelling. Arriving at Wandilo we had another short delay to cross a passenger train coming from the opposite direction. 'Well! I give up,' Charlie stated, 'I have been through the rest of the coal and still no b loody clackers.' 'Bad luck Charlie, but it certainly looks as though you have lost them for good, - here, have a smoke,' I suggested, handing him a packet of Peter Jackson's. 'No thanks John, I have been smoking tailor mades all night - I think I'll roll one myself instead.'With that he reached for his tobacco tin, which had been on the tool shelf since just after leaving Naracoorte. He removed the lid, then sat stunned with his mouth and eyes wide open. Looking rather sheepish and showing me the open tin of tobacco, Charlie mumbled, 'Have a b loody look at that John'. I looked and tried hard not to kill myself laughing, because there, nestled in the tobacco and grinning broadly, was the missing set of dentures. This story is like many which could be told of life on the open road, especially The Rail Road. Editor. R.I.Grant ANR Institute Magazine 1979 Railways Institute Magazine, January-February, 1979