The photographs of Tre Pol and Pen, my first attempt at a brass loco, show a model that may never win a cup at a show; but then I am 83 years old with eyes affected by AMD, and the inevitable handshake of the old. Before I tried building in brass I read reviews of kits and picked out those consistently praised. Eventually I chose Javelin (now Gladiator) and, being of Cornish extraction and first becoming interested in the GWR in the early 1930s, the choice of locomotive was automatic. The contents of the box were a shock but the kit had detailed step-by-step construction notes with very clear diagrams, and every part identified on the frets enabling a start to be made.

Before I attempted anything I contacted the TIO, and Bob gave me an hour and a half of his time in his work room where I learnt a very great deal in tips, materials and tools, even afterwards being able to copy his own riveting apparatus, making mine out of a 10in tie bolt and lumps of brass. I also read books on 4mm modelling by Iain Rice and Guy Williams on the simple premise that if it could be done in 4mm that way it would probably work for 7mm. The only advice that I would NOT give to a beginner comes from my personality; I am a loner and I always work by myself. This meant when something went wrong I had to work out alone how to solve the problem.

 

Having qualified as an aeronautical engineer during the war, I had the advantage of having worked with metal and had been familiar with tools. New to me was the 145 deg solder that transformed my soldering ability. I discovered the value of small pieces of ply of varying thickness as packing pieces, Blu-Tack for holding things in place, for example putting a small piece on the end of a tiny screwdriver to hold a minute bolt that needs to go into a difficult to reach interior corner, together with Sellotape for holding things down (very necessary when it takes both hands to hold the soldering iron steady.) The work surface, cream Contiboard, was marked out with squares and provided with a raised straight far edge against which to work. I also had to have a magnifying visor as one eye twisted everything and the other eye needed help to find the sub-1mm drills as much as to know where they were drilling. Working in an 8x4ft shed meant that I also needed a simple respirator as the flux irritated my throat.

I kept a detailed log of every step, divided into body, chassis and tender, in which I noted time taken for each step and any difficulties experienced and how they were dealt with. This proved invaluable to look back at as work proceeded when other problems arose. 10in lengths of aluminium 1in right angle strip with one outside surface liberally covered with layers of masking tape enabled parts, even when riveted, to be held in the vice without damage. The bare sides also proved invaluable in holding long pieces firm while removing the cusps from the frets.

As confidence grew so did what I was ready to attempt. The tender contained, apart from the heavy front end, the only serious fault in the kit; a floor at shoulder height that extended almost into the cab. The seriousness of this was not noticed until the tender body was soldered up. I attacked it with a modeller's drill and cutting disk and, from bits of brass sheet, produced a prototype slope to enable a realistic load of coal to be fitted. As things progressed the periods of frustration and near despair disappeared and excitement grew as it began to look right.

Shaky hands prevented any fancy paintwork so dark green car spray can, nearest to GWR 1930s shade, was bought and sprayed over grey undercoat. The colour was then brought nearer to the original by matt varnish mixed with a very little matt black. The only extant photo of Tre Pal and Pen shows no lettering on the tender, so the computer was used to reduce and print the shirt button roundel the GWR used at the time that was probably on the tender.

If you are hesitant about trying or know somebody else who is, please consider that even though it is far from perfect, if an old fool like me, with my disabilities, can produce something like the photograph, then say to yourself, or to the somebody else: Just think what you could do.