It was primarily due to the urgent demands of the Ministry of Munitions for a supply of trunnion brackets, which, cast in steel, were proving defective, and which had "been considered almost impossible to produce as stampings," that Mr. Cooke determined on the course of laying down an additional hammer, having a "tup" weighing no less than four solid tons.

Complete with gas-producers, stationary boiler, gas reheating furnaces and cranes, the estimated cost of installation was £15,100. The hammer foundations necessitated a cavity being dug to a depth of 18 feet, which was filled in with 321 tons of granite and cement, and upon which repose the base blocks, cast in steel and weighing a further 58 tons. This veritable monster commenced operations during the critical days of the early spring of 1918, and no sooner had the seemingly impossible been shown to be possible and the successful production of trunnion brackets had become "the means of great saving to the State," than there followed in quick succession orders for other and indispensable gun-mountings, such as front stiffening bands, upper sight brackets, trunnion-seatings, etc., etc.

"Peace," as we know, "hath her victories no less renowned than war," and no sooner was the mantle of munition manufacture laid aside than efforts were once again concentrated on the production of locomotive parts, the whole of the Walschaerte valve gear appertaining to Mr. Cooke's latest express passenger engines, the well-known "Claughton" class, being now produced under the 4-ton drop-hammer.

Standing in the immediate vicinity of the hammers ranged in convenient positions in regard to gas furnaces, "dummying" hammers, and "finning" or "trimming" presses, the average and intelligent visitor never fails to be impressed as he witnesses the operations in process, and notes the lightning rapidity with which, as if by the magic of a magician's wand, a bar or billet of gleaming, glistening whiteness is battered and transformed into some previously determined shape, curiously contorted, maybe, with corners, elbows, and recesses, ere the dazzling brilliance dims and fades, paling imperceptibly to lemon tint and orange hue, till finally the blood-red flush of angry sunset supervenes, and nothing remains but that the finished stamping should be trimmed and laid aside, gradually to resume the slate-grey cool of dawn.

How natural it all seems, how almost childish in simplicity! And yet on second thoughts, how come these various shapes and forms, these corners, elbows, and recesses, these well-nigh perfect surfaces, pure and clean, free from blow-holes, dirt and scale? True, we know the crashing and resilient hammer blow is there, and then a little closer acquaintance with, or examination of, the hammer is all that is necessary, for this will reveal the fact that it is the effect of the blow on a pair of "dies," one of which is held rigidly in the "tup," the other on the base-block, that causes the metal at a moderate heat to "flow" completely into the impressions which are in the dies, and which ensure the fashioning of the article required.

To cut an impression in a pair of "dies," to put the "dies" in the hammer, and to obtain a forging, sounds the simplest thing in the world. Yet in actual practice, so many are the problems which present themselves, so diverse are the obstacles to be overcome, that a volume might be written on the craft of the die-designer, whose efforts result in work of so great beauty, and whose "dies" must be capable of withstanding the punishment, and of enduring the wear, which the crashing blows of the "tup" inflict and are ever striving to induce.

What is the most suitable metal to employ in the manufacture of the dies? and having found that metal, what is the best process of hardening? are two of the first questions to be decided. Will the forgeman bestow every care in the use of his "dies," and will he set them accurately in the hammer? Much depends on answers being in the affirmative. Whether to cast the impressions in the die-blocks, or to machine them out in toto, and if machined out how to do so, are further knotty propositions. Correct taper on the walls of holes, bosses, and recesses; egress for imprisoned air; size of bar or billet to be stamped, after making suitable allowance for contraction and waste; control of waste metal or "fin"; method of duplex stamping. Such are the more potent problems with which the die-designer is faced, and whilst lack of insight will assuredly foreshadow failure, ability to grasp their import cannot fail to spell success. Obviously the mind of the die-designer must ever be planning, plotting, scheming how best to make his metal "flow;" and concentrated attention, and study extending over years, are the only means of approaching that degree of perfection which in the art of drop-stamping, as in all other branches of mechanical science, the engineer is ever striving to attain.

Incredible, then, that public money should have been continuously lavished on that legion of "inexpert experts," more than one of which worthless clan, gloriously clad in khaki, was known to claim admission to Crewe Works for the avowed purpose of "satisfying himself" (sic) that the engineers of the London and North-Western Railway locomotive department were "making the best use of the drop-hammer plant."

Even if we generously assume that these gentlemen were the exception rather than the rule, such glaring exhibitions of ignorance and impudence combined could not but tend to bring out in full relief the anomalies which, although possibly unavoidable, existed none the less in a system of universal and compulsory service; and with every apology to the talented soldier poet, author of the initial stanza introducing this chapter, one may be pardoned if, in conclusion, one feels constrained to put this further little conundrum:—

"Who made the law that nincompoops and asses