![Soham Rail Disaster memorial. This permanent memorial to the Soham Rail Disaster was unveiled on 2nd June 2007 by HRH Prince Richard, Duke of Gloucester, followed by a service in St. Andrew's Church. The memorial in Red Lion Square is situated adjacent to the War Memorial. It is constructed of Portland Stone with embossed text on three top panels.
The inscription reads It is not with hope, my feeble praise / can add one moment's honour to thy own, taken from a sonnet by Thomas Hood[1].](/_p/u/1/2/1/soham-rail-disaster-wp/hero.webp)
The train left Whitemoor marshalling yard at 12:15 in the morning on 2 June 1944, carrying 400 tons of bombs to Ipswich. Forty-four wagons held 500-pound high explosive bombs; seven more contained tail fins and components. Driver Benjamin Gimbert was 41. Fireman James Nightall was 22. About 90 minutes into the journey, approaching Soham station, Gimbert looked back along the train and saw flames coming from the leading wagon. What happened in the next few minutes was, by any measure, an act of extraordinary courage — and it cost Nightall his life.
Gimbert brought the train to a stop. The leading wagon was on fire; it contained 44 general-purpose 500-pound bombs. Both men understood what was behind them: 50 more wagons of high explosives. They could have run. Every instinct for self-preservation would have pointed toward running. Instead, Gimbert instructed Nightall to uncouple the burning wagon from the rest of the train. Nightall climbed down and uncoupled it quickly, despite the fire now being quite serious, then rejoined his driver on the footplate. Gimbert began drawing the burning wagon away from the rest of the train. He had moved it about 140 yards — still alongside the platforms at Soham station — when the bombs went off. The explosion was tremendous. But it was not what it would have been.
The explosion killed James Nightall immediately. Signalman Frank Bridges, who had been watching the burning wagon pass from the opposite platform, died the following day. Benjamin Gimbert survived, though badly injured. Guard Herbert Clarke, stunned and in shock, managed to walk to the next signal box to warn the signalman. Five people suffered severe injuries; another 22 sustained minor injuries. The crater was 66 feet in diameter and 15 feet deep. The station buildings were almost entirely demolished. Damage ranging from severe to moderate extended to over 700 properties within 900 yards of the blast. And yet: emergency repairs had the line open to freight traffic within eighteen hours. Passenger traffic resumed the next day. The resilience of the infrastructure was remarkable. The restraint of the explosion — limited to one wagon rather than 51 — was what made it possible.
The cause of the fire was never fully explained. The burning wagon had previously carried bulk sulphur powder. Although it had been cleaned between loads, the inspector concluded that small quantities of sulphur remained. Three wagons in the consist — including the one that caught fire — had their protective sheeting tucked inside around the bombs rather than hanging over the sides. This may have allowed sparks from the engine to fall into the wagon and ignite the residual sulphur. Beneath the sheet, heat would accumulate without dissipating. What started as smoldering eventually became flame. The specific sequence of events — a previous cargo, imperfect cleaning, a sheeting error, a spark — is the kind of confluence of small failures that lies behind many industrial disasters. No single decision caused it. No single person was responsible. It simply happened, at 12:15 in the morning, on a train carrying 400 tons of bombs through the English countryside four days before D-Day.
In July 1944, both Benjamin Gimbert and James Nightall were awarded the George Cross — Britain's highest award for civilian gallantry. The citation was explicit about what they had chosen: "Gimbert and Nightall were fully aware of the contents of the wagon which was on fire and displayed outstanding courage and resource in endeavouring to isolate it. When they discovered that the wagon was on fire they could easily have left the train and sought shelter." They did not leave. They knew what the wagon contained. They knew what was behind it. They stayed and worked. The citation continued: "There is no doubt that if the whole train had been involved, as it would have been but for the gallant action of the men concerned, there would have been serious loss of life and property." Nightall's George Cross was posthumous. He was 22 years old.
Soham station was closed to passengers in 1965. It stood empty for over 50 years before reopening in December 2021 — a reopening that was welcomed as a practical regional transport improvement and, quietly, as a form of historical recovery. At the reopening, a plaque was unveiled in memory of the four railwaymen involved: Gimbert, Nightall, Bridges, and Clarke. In 2007, a permanent memorial had been unveiled in Soham by Prince Richard, Duke of Gloucester: Portland stone with a bronze inlay depicting the damaged train and text describing the incident. Two British Rail locomotives were named after Gimbert and Nightall — their nameplates later transferred to Class 66 locomotives that still run on the network. Class 47 locomotive 47579 retains its name in preservation. The train, the men, and what they did on the night of 2 June 1944 are not forgotten in Soham.
The site of the Soham rail disaster is at Soham station, approximately 52.335°N, 0.328°E, in the Cambridgeshire town of Soham. Cambridge City Airport (EGSC) is about 12 miles to the southwest. The flat fenland landscape makes Soham clearly visible from the air; the reopened station lies along the rail line running northeast from Cambridge toward Ely and beyond. Flying at 2,000 feet gives a good view of the town and the surrounding agricultural fenland.