Thomas and the Great War

The War Department Arrives

The next day, the War Department came to Sodor and the Fat Director sold the six engines to them so that the railway would have enough money to pay for the damages as well as war bonds, debts and food rations for foreign troops. One particular lady even filed an expensive lawsuit over the loss of her dog, who had perished in the attack. Edward helped 98462 and 87546 back onto the rails, but the remnants of Eagle, save for his tender, lay everywhere. After clearing the wreckage, Edward brought Eagle's tender back to the shed where a shrine was placed in honor of his driver, fireman and himself. James and Percy stayed behind with Thomas, who was already being painted black by the painters working for the War Department and Christopher was looking for whatever article of black clothing he could find: shirt, shoes and all.

"Where's Gordon and Henry?" he asked with a sigh.

"Gordon's gone to collect the causalities from Peel Godred," Thomas said to Christopher. "Henry, on the other hand should be here with the funeral train."

As soon as he said this, they heard a sad whistle and Henry came in, painted black and pulling three coaches full of mourners and the deceased in their coffins. It was not a good day to be in green, and he came to a stop at the very end of Tidmouth Station, looking at what had been destroyed by the bombs.

"Why do some people have to die so soon?" moaned Henry. "It's unfair, not fair at all!"

All he could do was to wait onto a siding until Gordon got back from Peel Godred with the causalities from the Regiment base. After Gordon returned, the Fat Director and his wife went on to proceed with the memorial in dedication to the brave men who lost their lives on April 21st, 1943.

Afterwards, the drivers, firemen and citizens of Tidmouth held a wake as part of the funeral service while the engines stayed in the shed. James was already painted black while Gordon, Edward, and Percy were waiting for their turn. It had been almost five hours and he was already missing his bright red paintwork.

"I hope this war doesn't last any longer for a year," he fumed. "I am beginning to miss my red paint and so did Eagle. I'm beginning to miss him and his lovely shade of red very much."

At last, Christopher lost patience. He had been listening to James' remorseful loss over his red paint for almost an hour, and he and the other engines were just about getting tired of hearing him boast about his "smart red paint".

"Your paint?" he asked sarcastically. "Is that all you ever think about is your paint? Your red paintwork? What about blue, like the colour of a peaceful sky? Or green, the colour of spring that means hope?"

James thought about the question before Christopher continued to rant hysterically.

"All you ever think about is red, like the colour of wilted roses! Red, like the colour of the German flag! Red, like the colour of the very blood that is being split all across Europe! Red may be a colour that's bright and cheerful to you, but it's also a colour of evil and wickedness!! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"

James remained silent. The boy's outrage had become a hard blow to his vanity.

"You never learn do you?" asked Christopher as he ran off from the shed and into the direction of the harbour. Thomas wanted to speak to him, so as soon as his driver got back from the wake, he drove Thomas to the harbour where Christopher sat curled into a ball on a lonely siding.

"Don't worry," he said when he saw Thomas approaching from behind. "I'll apologize to James later."

"You don't have to apologize to anyone," replied Thomas.

Christopher smiled. "Really, because the only thing I see in my father winning this war is a major loss."

"You mean you are not supportive of him?"

"Why should I?" Christopher felt tears in his eyes. "If I can remember where he is by tomorrow, we're going to look for him, because I am not going on my own. No more running away, we find him and it's back to London for me, Tom-Tom!"

Thomas promised to do everything he could for Christopher, and to cheer him up, decided to take the boy to the Mid-Sodor Railway as he wanted to do yesterday before the attack had interrupted their plans.

The only engine that was not present at the memorial was Diesel, he decided to check up on 98462 and 87546 who were at the works to be mended from the crater incident yesterday.

"You should have seen the carnage when Eagle got blown up," 98462 told Diesel when he arrived. "If those Germans destroyed any of our class, they will die along with their leader."

"It's your affair, not mine," fatigued Diesel. "But how can you speak of that, when us diesels are taking over and if you want your class to survive the heap of scrap...why not join me in pushing your fellow engines around?"

98462 smirked at the idea, but 87546 was unsure.

"Can we trust him?" he asked 98462 suspiciously.

"All the same," 98462 said flatly. "This diesel might be the answer to our preservation."

Diesel and his driver smirked, even though they hated steam engines to the most absolute degree, the blue steamies seemed easy to manipulate.

A new engine from the Hunslet Company named Freddie had arrived at the Mid-Sodor Railway to replace Stanley and Smudger and Duke wanted to say hello. Freddie was silver with a gold dome and his driver held a postcard claiming he was from the Ffestiniog Railway. When Thomas brought Christopher to Arlesburgh, he introduced the boy to Stuart and Falcon, who were very welcome to meet him. The other engines were curious as well.

"Welcome to our railway, Christopher!" announced Atlas.

Duke, Albert, Jerry, Jim and Tim helped Freddie learn the line while Atlas, Stuart and Falcon showed Christopher how they handled the trucks in the mines. Christopher sketched one of the mine entrances in his notebook and laughed when Falcon and Stuart repeatedly bumped into each other through silly accidents and mishaps.

"The worst that can happen is that Granpuff would scold us for being troublesome," Stuart explained to Christopher. "He always talks about His Grace, here, there and everywhere until we get very tired about it."

"It sounds like he has been very tough on you," Christopher replied.

"And we are much too good for lecturing after he told us about the story of Stanley and Smudger," grumbled Falcon.

"I think he knows best!" remarked Atlas.

Just then, Freddie came in with Duke, who wanted to show him the mines. Atlas, Falcon and Stuart returned to their positions as the new engine spoke to Christopher about his early life.

"Back on the Ffestiniog Railway, we carried slate from the mines in Porthmadog, where it was made into roofing tiles for the villagers whenever they needed tiles for their houses."

"How interesting," Christopher smiled to himself.

Freddie told the boy and the other engines of many tales about his life story until the sun went down and Thomas took Christopher back to Tidmouth Sheds. Once there, Christopher could see that James was still hurt over the loss of his brother Eagle, with only his tender and other pieces like a wheel, his whistle, a buffer beam and a piece of his cab roof as a remembrance to what had once been a really selfless engine.

To make amends for their previous quarrel, Christopher decided to sketch James without him noticing, so as not to break his concentration. After thirty minutes or so, Chirstopher showed his latest drawing to James, completely in black like a sooty engine.

"Is that supposed to be me?" James spluttered at the details. "You're missing my number!"

"It's not supposed to be you," replied Christopher. "It's Eagle in black. I know he would have wanted to be in this colour."

James had finally acknowledged that he didn't have to worry about his red paint anymore and he completely understood that Eagle would have preferred a respectfully mournful colour like black over a cheery red. In tears of joy, he went happily to sleep along with Christopher and the other engines in their brand new coats of wartime black.