Pourquoi

In my childhood lived near the belgian 144 railway line. A very little line, between Gembloux and Tamines. Not any prestigious express trains used it, but only heavy freight trains to avoid Namur.

I've seen steam locomotives spitting their black smoke to the sky and projected ashes.

The kid I was, was looking at the iron monsters, black with long blasts of steam, smelling hot lube mixed with burning coal, I liked this characteristic scent. I still like it and when today I find it again, I’m again a kid.

Nothing was more pleasant to me than to exchange some words with the mechanician, black face with white teeth on a flames background when the helper opened the door of the boiler to nourish the fire with coal… And when the locomotive started , in a great movement of rods, he greeted me of a whistle. Only for me!...

The noise of the semaphore announced another train. The heavy locomotive woke up echoes from the other side of the bridge. The blasts of steam were harder and harder, more and more angry. The locomotive spitted his hatred of the load she trailed from the Samber Valley. The tactac of the wheels goes more slowly during the climbing of the hill. But on the top, a long blast of steam told the end of the effort. The tactac of the wheels accelerate more and more. The rods still slipped slowly in the hot lubricant, and then more and more quickly. The convoy passed in front of me standing at the edge of the garden, in a great splash of white steam and black smoke. A sign of the hand to the crew and the slapping of the wheels disappeared. The semaphore falls down... I remember...

In this time, in the fifty’s, it was a REAL Rail-Road Crossing.. With a barrier keeper... With a signal... With red and white barriers on wheels... They must be moved by a hard action on a winch. During the night, only the pedestrians may pass. The barriers were locked.

In the street, the name of the Rail-Road Crossing was The Block. Barriers keepers worked there from early morning until night. They came by bicycle from 5 AM to 10 PM. It were always men, but at the small railway station of Chapelle-Dieu it was often women.

The Block was a place of social relationships and for learning some news. My grand-father Antoine AUBRY (the Streetmakers) and many neighbours came there every day for talking. Very often, I was going to seek him on order of grand-mother Ferdinande…or just for the pleasure. I was a kid and I observed the barrier keeper at work. I again remember the multiple noises. The multiple bells... The squeaking of the winch of the barriers... Semaphore control sticks polished by railwaymen generations. The noises of the opening of semaphore. The warning of the crank of the telephone telling us that the Petit Mazy Train was coming.

Bicycle compétition in the 50th in Gembloux. Finish line was in La rue de la Vôte, in front of the bakkery Marroye very near the Rail-Road Crossing. In the back of the picture, the barrier keeper house now destroyed.

Photo courtesy of

Mme Nicole MARROYE - Gembloux

The Petit Mazy Train! (Small Mazy) was a little passengers train. About fifteen times per day, he travel from Genbloux to Tamine and back (Gembloux-Chapelle-Dieu-Vichenet-Mazy-Onoz-Jemeppe-Tamines). From Tamine to Gembloux, he was the Petit Gembloux Train (Small Gembloux). It was not a very glorious train. Certainely not the Orient Express. Only several wooden cars of third, second and first class and a little tender locomotive. Thousands workers took this small train to mines or factories located in Samber Valley. They made the richness of Wallonia. My dad René AUBRY often took it when he was working on some buildings construction in Auvelais or Charleroi.

Myself I took it sometimes with my parents, this small train of my childhood. For some long travels to Brussels, the Belgian Coast or Verviers. We took the train at the Chapelle-Dieu Station.... A real trains station, in this time... And with a waiting room... A woman sold small red tickets at a real sales counter...

Now I hear again the noise of the doors - one by compartment – closed and locked by a copper bolt by the train chief with a strong: "Attention...Your hands...'Tention ‘r hands...".

The old Rail-Road Crossing has an automatic barrier and his ringing awakes all the street.

The Petit Mazy does not pass any more than two or three times by day. But It is now a stupid electric train… It do not at all stop at ghost railway stations of Vichenet and Onoz...