Thomas and the Great War

A Day Out with Edward

Next morning, the fireman came. Edward woke up to a brand new sunrise as he looked left and right to see that the shed was empty. Christopher was still asleep in the hammock and all the other engines had gone off the work, leaving him confused and dismayed.

At last Gordon came along from his morning train, he stopped at the station, uncoupled from his coaches and moved slowly backwards onto the turntable where he saw Edward all bright and early to start the day with a nice run on the Wellsworth to Brendam branch line.

"Hello, Gordon, are you refueling for the long run?"

"I have enough coal and water to make three runs," weeshed Gordon. "Many times that I pull the Wild Nor' Wester, a passenger is bound to bring back a souvenir to his loved one. I just hope that the island has gotten it's name on the postcards."

"Any holidaymakers from the continent?"

"Only a few. A painter who claims he's from Belgium is disappointed with my speed, and a Norwegian furrier who does not appreciate the luxury of my buffet car."

"How come?"

"The guard told me he did not like the menu. They didn't serve his favorite dish: apple pudding."

"Maybe the Germans are the real spenders who throw their money around. They do have an industrial empire and their currency is enough to be spent on anything."

Gordon spluttered. "I don't believe such a thing! My driver says they treat certain people in their own land like discarded toys, laugh in their face, force you to serve the government and at the end of the day they give you a gold star or a pink triangle as an act of distinguishing between the old folks and the young people before you can retire to a resort in Oranienburg called Sachsenhausen."

"How do you know all this?" asked Edward.

"My driver has ham radio friends in the War Office," explained Gordon. "They can keep track of anything in their record books from around the world, including reconnaissance photos of enemy activity. They share the information with him and then he tells me all about it when I have nothing to do."

"It's a wonder you know everything," chuckled Edward. "And speaking of retirement, I am starting to show my age, but I already had my retirement set up and it was not here on Sodor. 1915 was my last year on the Furness Railway and besides, I am willing to take Christopher and some other children on a sightseeing tour of my branch line."

"So, I've been told,'" muttered Gordon enthusiastically. "But I am afraid it's getting late and I have to start my journey again on the main line. Goodbye, Edward and be sure to tell the boy that I might be willing to show him the main line as well."

And Gordon puffed away, still sulky since yesterday about Diesel and his race with 87546.

Twenty minutes later, Edward had collected three suburban coaches with Christopher already on board and he chugged to Wellsworth, where the school children were waiting for their field trip to the docks. Henry arrived with his local train, he was still feeling "broken" since the attack and was sadder than ever when he came to a stop in a mournful weesh of steam.

"Will the killings ever cease?" he moaned. "It will be years before we can return to our old lives again. Edward, what am I to do?"

"Just do as you're told," said Edward. "Wars don't last forever you know."

Henry started to feel better after that and soon, Edward left for the branch line. He stopped at the station of Suddery, where Christopher and the children saw a castle from the Napoleonic times and a cathedral from the fifth century where a bishop ruled over the fortified town like a king.