You all know who I am. I am the 1400 who ran away from scrap and was saved at the last hurdle by a Caledonian 812. I'm Oliver. I escaped From Caerphilly Scrap yards in 1967 and in 1968, after being halted for several months due to the "Ghost Engine" incident, I made it to Barrow-in-Furness, neutral ground, where I could expect some help to get to Sodor.

However, the night foreman wouldn't supply me with coal and water. I honestly thought I had failed my Western Brethren and the ideals of the Great Western-That giving up is unacceptable and that we shall fight onwards, despite the circumstances. Without Douglas's help, I would have lost all hope.

But all has not been peaceful for me. The events of my previous life still haunt me. Words, sights, actions-they all have been irreversibly burned into my memory and I can not forget what I have seen.

Everything started in 1957, when diesels were coming in. I was still young at that time and accepted them with open buffers, but I began to suffer as they took over my jobs. In 1958, I was informed that I was no longer a working engine.

"But, sir," I protested to my manager. "I still have uses left in me! I can perform!"

"It's the way of the world, you poor, naïve sap," said my manager with a laugh. "Tomorrow is your last service to Weymouth Junction."

He left me to my tears and shattered world. I was not aware at the time that the world could get any crueler. I thought that things couldn't get worse at the time, but I wish I could go back and learn this before I was withdrawn.

On my last journey, I saw something that I hoped never to see. A GWR 7200 2-8-2T failed on a South Wales Coal Train and that was it for the poor engine. He was moved into a siding and a diesel took over his train. The poor engine was soon cooled down and a group of men came to "tend" to him.

"Sorry old boy," they said. "It's your time and there is nothing more we can do to save you."

I watched the men start to dismantle the engine, despite his pleas, wails, cries and beggings to be left alone. I shut my eyes to ignore the sight before my eyes. However, the sounds of his screams and wails will remain in my memories. Again, my naivety lead me to believe that this was a one time thing.

I was wrong again. Three days after my last train, I was placed in "Swindon Dump", a group of sidings where wagons and old engines are broken up for scrap. I was surrounded by other 1400's and many bigger engines like the Kings, Castles, Manors, Stars, Halls, 2800s, 7200s, 5205s, 4200s and 5700s. I was not liking this at all now. Fear began to overtake me and it finally sank into my mind that this was my fate.

'I am dead,' I thought. 'This is all I can do. Nothing. I've failed.'

From there, I was moved to Caerphilly, where I was left to await my fate with an auto coach names Isabel and a Toad brake-van named Toad. From there, everyone who was bent on saving me went into conference and in 1967, I was away and in 1968, I was now safe.

But, all that I have seen haunts me. Manors, Castles, Halls, Stars, and Kings lined the snow ridden scrap yards. The look of acceptance of the end on their faces. The feeling of hopelessness had finally hit them. That look of hopelessness goes against the motto of all Swindon built engines-To fight to the bitter end!

I couldn't escape hearing them cry and even plea to be left alone. Screams of terror and agony will remain implanted on my mind. However, I will never forget my first experience of how cruel the scrap yards were. My brothers, 1435 and 1437, were standing the scrap yards. 1435 on my left and 1437 on my right.

"Don't worry about us, dear brother, we've lived a fulfilling life," 1437 said.

Men walked towards him and began to cut him up. I could only watch as my brother, who had been there for me was slowly being killed. Tears welled up in my eyes. I could never forget this if I lived.

Soon, too soon for my liking, men started to dismantle 1435. Helplessness and sorrow began to consume me. I wanted nothing to do with the world. From there, things changed more and more. People wanted to save us and were buying what they could get their hands on.

It gave me hope-that one thing I lacked. Hope, for a brighter future. From there, I escaped the scrap yards, but not the nightmares. Whenever I was alone at Arlesburgh, I sleep far away from the sheds. The sheds reminded me of my old sheds, that I shared with 1435 and 1437.

When I sleep, I'm not sleeping peacefully. I always awake to a sight I had hoped to hide from. The scrap yards, where I escaped from years ago. However, instead of facing freedom, I'm facing the engines. They've all closed their eyes and have smiles of acceptance. I watch as men start to break them up.

I desperately try to leave, but my crew have gone off to have tea. I want to close my eyes, but they refuse and I'm forced to watch these scenes unfold. As they unfold, cold and painful words spoken by Lode Star come back and sing their melody of truth, a truth I wanted to forget.

"The world, dear 1436, isn't the same world from 1925. Progress comes and we are the unfortunate victims of change. We have lived a good life, us steam engines, but the best must fall. Steam sanctuaries are only dreams, not meant to come true."

Was she right? I live on Sodor, the most well known Steam Sanctuary in the world. Was it that times have changed so much that now she sees hope? That there is a way out of these nightmares of watching my friends, brothers, sisters and colleagues all suffer at the hands of the scrapper's torch?

I want to remember my friends, colleagues, family and the people who cared for us. I want to live on with their memories, but these nightmares keep me from leaving behind the darkness.

PEEEEP-PIIP-PEEEEP!

My eyes flew open to reveal 1437 and 1435 standing before me. 1435 on my left and 1437 on my right.

"You are now the torch bearer for all 1400's," 1437 said. "A working 1400, with loving people and many friends to lean on. We can say you are a powerful brother to have and the best little brother any engine could ever wish to have."

"Thank you," I said, tears coming to my eyes.

My brothers smile at me, and slowly vanish into the dawn's dull rays. They're faces showing me that they were always there. I watched them disappear, but 1437 said one last thing to me before he completely vanished: "Seek out your friends. They can help you now."

I had never realised I had friends who I could depend on. Times have changed for the best here, and I let loose the tears of pain. Through my pained sobbing I hear a Scottish voice say that it's good for me to let my emotions go.

But these aren't just tears of pain, but tears of realisation. The realisation that I have been blind to the cure of these nightmares. I have friends to lean on and that's what matters more than gleaming paintwork, bright skies, cheery suns, peaceful nights, shining moons and the armored veils of sleep. I realise that I am indeed home, safe and with those who care for me.

This is my dream in a sea of nightmares. My fate has been decided and now, I will go on, as the sole 1400 in active auto train service. Come and visit me if you ever come to Sodor from Barrow in Furness on British Railways. I am always willing to make friends. One last thing before my next train-Friends are always there no matter what. Friends always embody several main elements-Trust, Honor, Generosity, Love, Loyalty, Sympathy and Empathy. They can connect to you one way or another.

Must be off now, Mike's just come in with a passenger train. I hope to see you soon. Oh and if your going to catch any train, catch the trains pulled by Henry or James. They will give you a pleasant journey indeed.