When built these one hundred and seventy ton locomotives were very modern and well suited to haul the light passenger and freight trains of the early nineteen hundreds. These engines carried a steam pressure of about 200 lbs. which was superheated before being admitted to the piston valves and on to the 23 by 22 1/2 inch cylinders which had a 28 inch stroke. With three pairs of 63 inch driving wheels these machines were good for 65 m.p.h. but at that speed they were inclined to ride a bit rough because they lacked the stabilizing effect that a trailing truck under the firebox would have had. They depended solely on the four wheel lead truck to keep the locomotive steady on the track. This four wheel "pony truck" was placed directly under a heavy bolster casting centered between the cylinders. Separating this truck and the bolster were two triangular shaped rollers which transferred any side thrust of the truck to a vertical thrust which tended to lift the front of the engine. Thus the weight of the front of the locomotive, through the action of the rollers, and the "pony truck" guided or steered the machine on both straight and tangent track. The "pony truck also tended to prevent excessive wear on the flanges of the front driving wheels. The flanges of the small guiding truck wheels were less costly to machine down or replace than those of the large driving wheels.

Some of the earlier ten wheelers were built as compound locomotives and were later changed to simple engines because the C.P.R. found that with the better quality steam cylinder lubricating oils then becoming available greater fuel savings were achieved by superheating the steam and using it only once in each cylinder. It was also found that it was better to have a wider firebox, extending out over the rear pair of drivers, than to have a narrow firebox placed down between the wheels. Some of the first of what were later classed as D 10's built in 1905 had very wide fireboxes which extended the full width of the locomotive, nearly ten feet. This necessitated placing the engineers cab ahead of this extra wide firebox and straddling the boiler. A smaller open cab was installed at the rear to partially protect the fireman from the elements. These were called "Camel Back" engines and they were not very efficient nor were they very popular with their crews. These few ten wheelers were reboilered after about two years of service with what was to become the standard D 10 boiler. This new boiler had a firebox seven feet wide instead of the nearly ten foot wide "Wooten" box.

When first built these D 10's had single air compressors but by the time I first rode on one they had Westinghouse 8 1/2 by 11 inch cross compound compressors which could supply a larger quantity of compressed air for the larger capacity braking system which was necessary for the then longer trains.

My first ride on a D 10 was back about 1934 when my father was working as the fireman on the Red Deer Subdivision way freight. He had hired on as a fireman with the C.P.R. in the early nineteen hundreds after having started his railroading career back in England as a young man. At this time, although he was qualified as an engineer, he could not hold a job as such because of the depression. While "Dad" was working this way freight my twin brother and I would sometimes meet his train, in the late afternoon, where it entered the yard and have the privilege of riding the locomotive the several miles into the yard and then to the roundhouse to walk proudly home with "Dad" . We were shown how to operate the firebox doors, by stepping on the foot pedal, then ring the bell and blow the whistle for the two crossings en route.

This was quite a thrill for a couple of ten year olds. I well remember the large reverse lever (Johnson bar) and the long throttle handle extending from the center of the boiler head. Little did I know that in less than eight years time that I would be hostling these engines around the locomotive shops and a few years later running one on the road as the " Engineer". Some of my training trips as a fireman were made on these handsome ten wheelers in the summer of 1942 and I started firing them and other locomotives steady that winter.

By 1943 a lot of the D 10's had small air operated reverse levers instead of the nearly four foot high manual "Johnson Bar" that sometimes required both the engineer and fireman to swing over. This was especially true of the first ten wheelers which used the “Stephenson” valve gear. The later locomotives were fitted with the easier to maintain “Walschaert” motion. Except for a few that were converted to burn oil, all D 10's were hand fired and they would have been easier to fire if the 70 by 102 inch firebox had been deeper. As it was the ashes had to be cleaned out of the fire about every thirty miles or so because of the soft dirty coal we used. I might add that the N2 class 36 and 37 hundred consolidation engines were even harder to fire because they had about the same sized boiler with the same shallow firebox but were supplying superheated steam to larger cylinders with a longer piston stroke.

With the coming of the diesels the newer, more modern steam engines were transferred from the main line work to branch line assignments or were the first to be scrapped if they were too heavy for the light branch line rails. However, the D 10 locomotives, built in the early nineteen hundreds, lasted well into the diesel age because they were well suited for branch line work. Some, like the 644 that I made my first Engineer trip on, were equipped with air operated reverse levers, switcher type foot boards and lower tenders and then were assigned to yard service. Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to buy an automobile that would last fifty years and do about two million miles ?

After passing my "Engineer" examinations in the late forty's I was O.K. to be called to run any type of locomotive the C.P.R. owned even though I could only hold a firing job. You guessed it; the first trip for which I was called as the engineer was for D10d No. 644 which was built away back in January 1907 by Montreal Locomotive Works. I recall that this was on a Saturday morning and my fireman was an engineer’s son named Bill McJunkin, who retired years later as a conductor working out of Cranbrook B.C.. Ours was an easy 97 mile run north east to Drumheller with a train of empty box cars but we knew that the trip back to Calgary would be different.

The first half of our run was uneventful and after our #644 was turned, watered and coaled up at Nacmine we coupled on to a train of old box cars loaded with Drumheller coal. While the air was being pumped up in the brake pipe I got down and climbed over the side rods, with my long necked oil feeder, and reached in between the frames to lubricate the Stephenson gear motion then climbed down and oiled the three driving wheel hubs, then the upper and lower guide bars plus any other oil holes I could find. After oiling the two pony wheel hubs I went around to the other side to do the same oiling from front to back. I remember oiling the friction casting between engine and tender because we were going to encounter numerous sharp curves on the way south west to Calgary. I checked the tender water and coal levels for we would need it all on the 96 mile drag uphill to Alyth and home. The conductor and I read the orders to each other and it was time to leave. With the Nathan hydrostatic lubricator popping three drops per minute for the air compressor, steam chests and cylinders and the fireman’s Hancock inspirator singing loudly while supplying super hot water to the boiler, I started the train slowly using as little steam as possible so as not to pull the light fire with exhausts that could be too strong. It was very important to prevent the drivers from slipping for the same reason.

As our speed slowly increased and Bill built up a heavier fire, the steam gauge held at 200. I opened the throttle wider and dropped the Johnson bar a few nicks forward (toward the company corner) and we picked up a little more speed. Those ten wheelers had an odd sounding exhaust, one heavy then three lighter blasts from the stack for each revolution of their five and a quarter foot driving wheels. My fireman was doing an excellent job of keeping the boiler pressure up as the train boomed westward around numerous curves along the creek in that narrow valley at about 15 m.p.h.. The 644 seemed to rhythmically chant a child’s song about the little train that could. In the song the small engine sang, as it labored up hill, "I THINK I CAN---I THINK I CAN'. Our 644 sounded like the one in that child’s song with it's odd four blasts per wheel turn exhausts. When the grade leveled off a bit and the speed picked up our engine, like the one in that children’s song, seemed to sing "I KNEW I COULD---I KNEW I COULD'. My engineers pay at that time on that sized locomotive was about ten or twelve cents a mile and the C.P.R. didn't know it but at that moment I would have gladly paid for the privilege of being the engineer on that engine at that time and place.

After a fire cleaning and train inspection stop at Entice, where the tender was filled with water, we continued on another twenty miles up toward Irricana where the fireman filled the tender with water and coal then cleaned his fire again while I oiled the old girl up and checked the running gear over. We had only gone 51 miles but it had taken almost four hours and we still had 40 miles to go. The next 26 miles were fairly level in places and with a fresh tank of water and that new load of coal old 644 thought she was back in her younger days, hauling a main line hot shot. Our speed soon picked up to less than two minutes per mile which was at least 5 m.p.h. over the speed allowed for that branch line track. It seemed no time at all until the brake had to set to stop that short heavy coal train at Langdon and get permission to enter the main line on the Strathmore Sub.

It was a heavy five mile haul up to Bennett then we could let her go with the Johnson bar up toward the middle and the throttle only open about one third. That old tenwheeler really knew she was on the high iron (on the main line) and we were soon doing over 40 m.p.h. The coal dust was flying as we thundered by clear boards at Shepard station then slowed for the turnout at the West end of the yard then it was another fast five miles to where we had to slow for the spring switch at Ogden which turned the engine and train up the west bound main and toward the point where a stop had to be made to open the main line switch and enter Alyth yard.

There we dragged that train of dusty diamonds up into the top yard. From there it could be pushed over the “hump”, by a large yard locomotive, and each car would be weighed and then allowed to run down into one of the many classification tracks. All we had to do was to fully set the brakes, pull the pin (uncouple) and head that willing old hog for the roundhouse. There the fire would be dumped and the tired dusty 644 run across the turntable to be placed in one of the 36 shop stalls. There the rods would be greased, the lubricator filled and all other maintenance, cleaning and repairs done to prepare her for the next assignment.

I made many more trips firing and running D10's but my first as the "Engineer" is the best remembered.