May 12, 1915

The Cunard Line had been vulnerable to bad publicity following the loss of RMS Lusitania to the German submarine U-20 just five days ago. On May 9, during the second battle of Artois, the French forces advanced against the Germans in Notre Dame de Lorette and dealt a hard blow of over 100,000 casualties. From a later point on, America would be entering the Great War out of honor, respect and loyalty to their European allies with extra safety measures and unique army practices. But while most of this was happening, Thomas was preparing for his journey to Sodor in Brighton, about to pull a special, but long and heavy train of twenty trucks and a special saloon coach in the front.

Last night, after bidding his fellow engines and Brighton brothers goodbye, Thomas went off to collect the trucks needed for his "special train". The LBSCR officials recruited the necessary troops, doctors and nurses for the Sodor Regiment. With his father on leave for the war, young Wilbert wanted to go as well, even though his mother Lucy wouldn't let him. With nothing else to do, he needed a larger amount of company besides his younger brother George and older siblings Bridget and Carol Edward. In total, the single 60ft carriage would carry over thirty people, including twenty five soldiers, one commander, two doctors and two nurses. That same day, the train was ready to be loaded with 20 tons of practical items like coal, minerals, rations, ballast, parcels, a crate of rifles and four flatbeds of tracks and sleepers among the unusual things like golf clubs and tennis balls for men, books and letters for women, toys for children and an 18-pounder gun.

In order for Thomas to travel, he needed to stop at every station to take on water, about 1,256 gallons of it. Normally, this would be easy, but Thomas' class was not built for long distance duties, so his water tanks needed to be extended. Already having enough coal ensured via the six coal trucks, the LBSCR stepped in to modify the side tanks in the precise measurements, designs and workings of the later batch of E2 engines from L. B. Billinton's resources. Because of this, Thomas' journey would be delayed by two months and when he would puff his way onto the main line, a quarter of his passengers would be the Brighton residents who had already worked on the previous numbers.

For the people who had signed on to form the Sodor Regiment, Thomas was a most agreeably cheeky engine unlike some of the more stricter and pompous locomotives that they had worked with and traveled on before. But it had soon proved to be a challenge when Thomas' fussy attitude settled in about remembering the names and loads aboard his special train. The previous day, when Wilbert, George, Bridget, Carol and their mother came to visit the passengers at the Bedford Hotel restaurant on the West Pier, Commandant C. G. Yates of the Brighton Division was the first to state his opinion.

"It is difficult to say as to whether or not this little engine has had some difficulty among his piers. I hear he deliberately pushed an engine off the rails once and that was only fourteen days after he was built, but I can assure that it's just a rumor. Another thing is that it took him another two weeks to remember which coaches belonged to which engine and which yard to take them back to after the larger engines have returned."

Charles Henry Norramby, the Duke of Sodor, was also present in the dining room of the hotel. He was visiting Brighton to oversee the new recruits with Commander Yates. He had a pleasant attitude that was well respected among the people who knew him and saw his charming wit and ever-learning record as the ideal soldier for an international war. Some would even switch their bookings to Thomas' special train when learning that he would be aboard. When Mrs. Awdry asked about his father Henry John Norramby's current career as a commander in the Royal Army, he explained that recruits often felt safe when under the command of a veteran who would teach these newcomers about the dangers of war and how to avoid them.

"Well...when anyone asks about my father and his life as an Earl, or as we on the island call them Duke, and his fifty year career in the military, all I can say is uneventful. Not to offend my father in anyway, but even he claims that his life was uneventful. Sure he has been through storms and plagues, but those were only small events compared to his experience and he has been in only one accident at sea when his ship ran aground. That was the Suevic. Terrible business, it was. But, no one was hurt and the rescue proved to be quite extraordinary despite the fog and all that. If there is anything worth speaking about, it is that my father was a very lucky man to take part in this war."

When Carol expressed his interest in joining the army, the 33 year old Lieutenant Norramby shook his hand and he had immediately achieved the rank of Sodor Regiment's second lieutenant with twice the salary of the common trooper. Now Wilbert had a slightly more logical reason to be away from the war when Thomas would leave for Sodor.

Wednesday, May 12. Thomas sat on the middle platform of Brighton station at noon and the hour of departure was drawing near. After hearing small fables of Sodor and it's not-so standard gauge railways, he believed that the LBSCR was granting him the respect he deserved from putting up with the snooty express engines and goods engines who were too busy to be bothered by his practical jokes. Throughout the morning, the station was filled with sightseeing onlookers and well-wishers. Soldiers and their families were everywhere, waving farewell to their loved ones from departing passenger trains. Sooner or later, Brighton would be run by women and children working under child labour laws and the anticipation of suffragettes like Emmeline Pankhurst who were seeking the right to vote until the war would end.

Thomas hoped that his wonderful load would attract the press, especially since he would be pulling it from Brighton to Sodor, but the general public was more interested in something else: the luxury of his "rivals". The Southern Belle spanned seven Pullman coaches with a graceful sweep of rich brown and gold lining. Behind it was a train of three suburban coaches pulled by a B1 class tender engine named "Gladstone" for those who preferred to travel the old fashioned way. The sleeping carriage with it's individual compartments compared with transcontinental trains like the Orient Express or the 20th Century Limited and each compartment had a shared washroom. The occupants would dine in the restaurant carriage or in the buffet car. There were lounges for all where men could smoke, women would read their books and teenagers would get their first sips of brandy, cognac and other alcoholic beverages. Those seeking for a local run between Brighton and it's branch lines would take the electric trains on the South London Line. Those in need of a quicker run to Shorham-by-Sea would board the rail motor services on the coast lines. The passengers of the Brighton Belle would expect a courteous, yet less regal version of the Southern Belle's carriages and personal services. Even the smaller engines, known as the A1X "Terriers" would be carrying passengers with better food and more privacy than one would expect on a foreign train.

At 10:00 AM, an ambulance train from the Crystal Palace railway station pulled up next to Thomas. The train was pulled by a Terrier class tank engine named Boxhill. He had been Thomas' best friend for the past two years and was sorry to see him go. In addition to wounded soldiers from Ypres and Shaiba, the train also carried officials from St. John Ambulance, who have aided the Red Cross in need of a nursing division hospital for extra patients. Boxhill joked about Thomas' range of passengers being a cross section of freedom fighters and anarchists that have made the war possible and Thomas joked about Boxhill's passengers as nothing but magnates and heirs who were happy to spend a hundred pounds sterling of sending their cars and ships into the war zone, only to have their arrogance punished by the humble workers who were fed up with their abuse and the terrible conditions of the battlefield. The Awdry family was also present at Brighton, ready to entrust their eldest son Carol for the next three years of fighting the Germans. While missing his father at the most, Wilbert was thinking of a plan to stow away onboard the coach.

Most of Thomas' passengers were second and third class residents with special first class tickets provided by the army when the Southern Belle and Brighton Belle were overbooked. These include Colonel Bruce Seton, the 9th Baronet of Abercorn and W. H. R. Rivers, a St John's College graduate and an anthropologist known for treating shell shocked patents. The two nurses traveling were the Bray sisters Mary and Ethel. Their eldest sister, Evelyn was on the front lines in Northumberland, treating wounded soldiers in a large hospital. The saloon coach of Thomas' special train, while lacking the space and grandeur of the express trains, would allow the few passengers to be as comfortable as possible like any other compartment on another train. Before Thomas' departure, the Awdrys were allowed to tour the coach in all of it's glory and when they had left, no one had noticed that young Wilbert was missing.

At the same time Wilbert was thinking of his father, Vere Awdry was conducting a lifeboat drill under the watchful eye of Captain James Ellis, master of the SS Brighton IV, a ship owned by the LBSCR. Vere and the sailors swung out the boats on davits and lowered them with the junior officer aboard. They disconnected the small boat from the falls and rowed out into the sea, reaching about two points off the starboard bow before they turned back and returned to the ship. With the simulated escape complete, Captain Ellis was satisfied and the vessel was adequate to serve as a hospital ship for the Royal Navy by legal standards.

At the stroke of midday, Thomas blew a happy "peep, peep" on his whistle. The shunter coupled him to the train and he pulled away from the platform with strong heaves. The people on the platform waved a jubilant farewell to their loved ones from the other departing trains, but Thomas didn't mind, he knew that people often come first before engines like himself. Photographers clicked away at what would be the last photographs of specific soldiers who would later end up being killed in action behind enemy lines. Onlookers and reporters were thoroughly impressed by Thomas' act of pulling the heavy load, but some had their doubts. History was being made as Thomas led the train out of the station and onto the main line.

But no sooner had he left the platform when at the same time, an H2 Atlantic, #421 "South Foreland" was also leaving the station with the Southern Belle. A signalman saw this at the last minute before a near-collision would have happened and quickly set the signal on Thomas' track to red. South Foreland headed off for the main line before Thomas stopped four feet away from having his journey spoiled by an accident. Thomas waited impatiently for the Southern Belle to be out of the way before cautiously proceeding.

"Hurry up!" he called to South Foreland. "This is a special special!"

But South Foreland was taking his time and he was too polite to even utter so much as one rude reply. Now three minutes behind schedule, Thomas started again and made his way towards the tunnel on the other side of the yard.

The near-collision with the Southern Belle was a slightly anti-climatic send off from Brighton station, but most of the passengers onboard the train were too busy with their first lunch to watch the maneuvers that followed. In the rhythm of life aboard a luxury train, a ship, a car or even on horseback, meals were the perfect social event to catch up with old friends or make new ones. While the Southern Belle had seven coaches for passengers to congregate, those onboard the single saloon coach of Thomas' special train had fewer options, but there was enough room to hold a party. Crossing the Brighton Main Line on an afternoon of fair weather, Carol was surprised and relived to see Wilbert onboard the train.

"I thought you were back home with Mother," he said to Wilbert.

"Why should I with all this war going on?" mumbled Wilbert.

"The war will be over soon enough," Carol smiled. "And we'll be as far away from the Germans as possible by tomorrow morning."

The brothers hugged each other for a moment and Carol said, "If anything makes my brother happy, it'll make us even."

About an hour and ten minutes later, Thomas arrived at the LBSCR terminal of London Victoria station, 50 miles north of Brighton. He waited by the water tower, humming a little ditty while his passengers and the station porter loaded and unloaded a few of the letters and parcels from his special train. Of the 385 letters and postal shipments aboard, half of them were messages from MI5 and the War Department and over a third of the letters were conscription notices for those who had not yet been drafted into the army. By 1:30, Thomas was ready to be transferred onto the northern section of the London and North Western Railway route to Sodor. His whistle and puffs of "come along, come along" to the trucks echoed out into the afternoon as he made his way onto the line via Euston station.

Most of Thomas' passengers, including Carol and Wilbert, were keeping up to date with news of the war and the wealthiest of society in the latest issue of the Daily Telegraph from a station vendor. Such topics included a mention of King George V, whose birthday celebration had been canceled due to anti-German rioting. There was also talk of outspoken suffragette Mabel Vernon, an American pacifist who introduced women's rights to the United States using the same methods of the British suffragettes with poet Sara Bard Field. The Bray sisters chatted over the latest fashions of designer Gabrielle "Coco" Chanel while the male soldiers told stories of the French aviator Louis Blérot. Henry George Kendall, captain and survivor of the RMS Empress of Ireland who was currently serving in Antwerp, Belgium, was also discussed among the soldiers for his capture of the homeopathic murderer Dr. Hawley Harvey Crippen. Commander Yates squabbled over using a motor car by Henry Ford, the inventor of the automobile, as an alternative for Thomas should he collapse from the heavy load, but Sir Norramby could only go on and on about the royalty and social events of his childhood, mingling with the who's who of high society in his father's visits to the mainland. Aside from all of this, Sir Norramby had more people in mind that he wanted to meet personally. With no expense spared for their luxury and comfort, Thomas could only assume that he was carrying the sort of people built on his image.

Twenty minutes into the day, Thomas arrived at Wembley for Sudbury, an interchangeable station on the LNWR's "New Line". Two porters brought official documents, journalism papers, passports for twelve of the soldiers leaving the country, a luggage bag of small explosives and fifteen letters and parcels aboard the train. A group of visiting marksmen on leave for Southern Rhodesia paid their respects to the soldiers as well. A local seamstress sold a fresh white lace to the Bray sisters, thinking that it would make a good bandage wrap should any of the troops be shot in the ankle. She even received a minimum wage from Mary Bray for the lace.

One visitor to greet the soldiers like any other group in local terms, was Colonel Victor Horsley, Director of Surgery in the British Army Medical Service en route to Egypt. He was a pioneer in the field of neurological surgery and had once been a Fellow of the Royal Society back in 1886. His 1907 book Alcohol and the Human Body, served as a health guide to the soldiers onboard Thomas' special train as it was during the prohibition of drinking in the United Kingdom that began on March 30th, 1915.

At two o'clock, Thomas moved out of the station, steamed down the West Coast Main Line and made his way towards Harrow to take on water. Almost some talk about a letter from the South Midland Brigade stating that Worcester had been empty for the time being was discussed among the passengers. Like themselves, there were over 25 men in each battalion fighting in the war. They came from all regions of Great Britain, leaving behind their families, history and old lives to follow a two hundred and fifty five year wave of their ancestors who served in the British Army. Kitchener's Army was the true bread and butter of the war, the real reason for Thomas to be transferring them away from home and towards an island on the Irish Sea. The Irish Republican Brotherhood may have been hostile and rebellious compared to Scotland's support of the British effort, but with such large hopes and sacrifices, the working class union of Clydebank were grateful to have played a part in the Great War after a long period of political radicalism.

Even on the front lines, the men fighting in the war could still send and receive telegrams from dogs, pigeons and even a Marconi wireless setup to put them in contact with their commanding officers. Most of this service is done on ocean liners with only one or two operators at the morse key, but some armies had more than two telegraphists on the job for 24 hours straight. Most of these specialists like Jack Binns, are young men who have attended a special Marconi school in Seaforth Sands to learn the future of communication. Using the British Army commander call sign "Sunray", they would broadcast the strategics from both sides of the trenches, 500 to 1500 miles beyond the borders.

The sky was blue with some scattered clouds and an enormous variety of weather everyday. The low temperatures and prolonging of rainfall spread over Thomas' funnel as he puffed his way proudly up the main line. Thomas even spoke for everyone aboard his special train, discussing the smooth movement of his coach, singing "There's A Long, Long Trail", playing with their cards and dominoes and even reading books that the Bray sisters had packed for the journey. Everything seemed quite simple from what most people expected on a train ride.

The inside of Thomas' coach was busy with the voices of everyone onboard. No matter where they came from, they were united in their journey to Sodor. Within the carriage, the uncertain world became a small and friendly place of mixed classes formed together in a universal society.

"Do you have any knowledge of the Norwegian language?" asked Mary Bray to one of the younger soldiers. "I've taken a slight interest into the subject."

"Just some French," the young man admitted. "I don't expect to learn German, even if we forgive each other at the end of the war."

"My mother was Norwegian," said another soldier. "And so is my grandmum."

Mr. Rivers was admiring a small drawing of HMS Victory, in which William Rivers, a senior member of his family served aboard as a midshipman. Norramby was reading the Sherlock Holmes novel A Study in Scarlet, something that he had inherited from his mother as a holiday gift. Wilbert was staring out the window, still thinking about his father just as Carol came up from behind him. He had been having a drink of brandy with Colonel Seton.

"You're gonna miss it?"

Wilbert turned around confused.

"You mean Daddy?"

"No," replied Carol. "The others back home in Brighton."

"I guess I'll miss them too," Wilbert sadly admitted.

"We'll see them again soon," said Carol with comfort.

"You're always right," said Wilbert with hope and they went to end of the coach for a game of dominoes.

Although his journey was off to a perfect start, the rails were not without its accidents and technical problems. At 2:20, Thomas arrived at Watford Junction. There, he was met by an engine named Precursor, one of the 130 tender engines built by George Whale in 1904. He had been pulling his last passenger train for the day and he was so exhausted that he missed a red signal. Thomas' driver and fireman however found no cause for alarm, as passing red signals were a common violation as long as no derailments had taken place. Thomas told Precursor that he was on his way to Sodor and the signalman had informed all traffic from Boxmoor to Wolverton of the approaching special train.

Back home at Brighton, Mrs. Awdry and her two remaining children went to speak with L. B. Billinton, Lord Ponsonby and C. L. Morgan about Wilbert's absence at the pier, yet all three men were locked in a telling conversation about the German Army's capture of Windhoek, the capital of South Africa.

"So the krauts have taken over South Africa, then?" asked Billinton to Ponsonby.

"Not if our forces push them back," replied Morgan. "On the other hand, your engine is making excellent time."

Billinton puffed on a cigar, nearly coughing as he spoke.

"I know that Thomas is on his way to the island and with the amount of rolling stock he is pulling, it can be conceived as a test of strength and speed."

"I understand your intentions, Mr. Billinton," Pononsby disagreed. "But I would have preferred it if you did not have him pull too many trucks."

"Then I shall leave what is best for you to decide if Thomas were to be sent back," sighed Billinton with defeat. "But I still think of it as a test of strength. He will make a fine station pilot for Topham...that is if he is assigned to other jobs."

When the men turned to face Mrs. Awdry, Billinton was the first to ask.

"Anything you wish to say, Lucille?"

"Never mind," she replied.

She left and the men went back to their tea.

At 4:13, Thomas arrived at Roade station near the Northhampton loop line where he met a discarded DX goods class tender engine numbered 1418. Back in 1899 while pulling a goods train through a rainstorm between Conway and Penmaenmawr, he ran into the sea where the water had washed away the line and derailed on his side, killing both crew members. Thomas made a brief acknowledgement of respect for 1418 and continued on course. He was silent all the way to Rugby.

Thomas was low on water by the time he reached Brinklow, but still had a few lumps of coal in his bunker. His fireman transferred the extra coal from the trucks with his shovel while the driver operated the water tower, finally getting the engine back to proper working order. Fully replenished by 4:35, they were now six minutes behind in their schedule.

As soon as Thomas arrived at Stafford by 5:15, he had another engine to talk to during his stop. This time an Alfred the Great class tender named Orion with a last minute passenger train. He had reported of further trains once Thomas mentioned that he was heading for Sodor. The signalman at the station began his last hour of work by warning all trains from Blackpool to Whitmore of the special. Thomas' driver looked over a Railway Clearing House map of the route and calculated that with their given speed, they would reach Sodor by midnight. Without any significant attention to Thomas' workings, the fireman was certain that they would make it to Sodor the very next day.

Onboard the coach, a copy of Canadian lieutenant colonel John McCrae's new poem In Flanders Fields was spoken by every passenger who took their turn. Mr. Norramby led the words first before it could be memorized by all of the passengers. Even Wilbert was learning to read the rondeau with the help of Carol. This piece of literature among with the closing line "We shall not sleep, though poppies grow in Flanders fields" would go on to become one of the most iconic war quotes of all time.

In spite of McCrae's wisdom and guidance over the struggle of life, remembrance and the peace that came afterwards, there was still a human element at work. At 5:35, Thomas arrived at Crewe, home to a major facility in the history of railways. No. 1881 of the Class B series of locomotives by Francis Webb at Crewe Works in 1901 was present at the station with a light train from the northern region, describing Thomas' train as something only he could pull. Thomas whistled to the signalmen that he was there, but had already acknowledged the previous update on traffic. As he was beginning to find out that his heavy load was starting to take its toll, with only 12 hours left before Sodor, the sun started to dip and the passengers were all warm inside.

The Coal Tank locomotive No. 1118 was there to greet Thomas at Leyland. He described that Sodor was about 75 miles dead ahead, turning westward on the Furness Railway. Arriving at 6:05 PM, Thomas was the fifth engine he stopped to chat with on his journey and also failed to inform the signalman of any approaching trains. The station signalman had seen this from his post and telephoned the signal box further up the line at Garstang & Catteral, but their conversation could only be guessed. Thomas' driver later whistled to the signalman at Farington and stopped the train to take on water.

While at Farington around 6:10, Thomas was met by a 19in Express Goods locomotive No. 4640. This time, however, Thomas did not wish to speak with the engine because they were not addressed to one another. Rather, the engine was having his own driver looked over for any faults as if he had just gotten out of an accident. No. 4640, handled the LNWR protocol of all terminating trains at Carlisle to make way for foreign engines from the other railway lines and Thomas was a foreigner in his case. By the time No. 4640 did notice Thomas and how heavy his train looked, he was already puffing out of the station.

At Preston, while admiring the sunset, Wilbert spoke to Thomas about another reason for leaving home, describing large explosions and sounds like bombs falling out of the sky that could be heard all the way from Charing Cross while on holiday in London. The idea of enemy forces attacking the major cities from the sky was unheard of, but it was not with those from aeronautical battalions and a wealth of information of how aviation could be useful in a war. A fleet of German zeppelins had been attacking England since January, drifting over three Norfolk villages before pressing on to London and the southern region. Thomas, now aware of his country's desperation to fight in the war, was glad to be heading up north. He planned to take his train up to full speed, thinking that for all of the wishes and respects that the LBSCR bestowed upon him, Thomas had to run fast from the very war zone that he was hoping to avoid. Wilbert later thanked Thomas for his comfort, knowing that he would need it for when they were safely on Sodor.

Pressing onwards, the wind died down and the passengers were watching the sunset from the windows. Mary and Ethel were looking back on a perfect day: exceptional weather, a smooth trip and preparations for the arrival on Sodor that night. For some reason, Commander Yates forgot to purchase a small dinner for the passengers, leaving them with nothing but a few snacks and light meals they had saved after lunch. And yet, he had an afternoon of worrisome thoughts about leaving his position as a councilor back home in Brighton.

At 6:30, Thomas puffed his hardest. "Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!" was his call as he had heard it from the passenger trains back home. The fireman got his message and fed his boiler with the extra coal from the second truck at the front of the train. Once the driver prepared to stop at Lancaster, Thomas was prepared to head the train at a maximum percentage of coal and water. At his top speed of 42 miles per hour, Thomas was honouring his creator's wishes, but he knew that speed would always have a disadvantage as his driver was trying to be patient with his speed at yellow signals.

At 6:50, Thomas arrived at Lancaster. This time he was met by a George Hughes Class 28 goods engine of the Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway named James, someone he would later strike a good friendship with in the future. Sodor was apparently 50 miles away and when James asked Thomas if he needed any help in pulling the train, all he said was:

"No thank you, I've made it this far on my own."

And he puffed away.

"What arrogance!" James told his driver. "I try to help and all he does is refuse me!"

"Listen to yourself!" exclaimed the driver. "You've never asked anyone's help before."

"That's because he's smaller than me," James replied vainly. "I've run the line fifty times so far and I've never had an accident."

"Why not we make a good run back to the shed?" suggested the fireman. "Then we'll have well-earned rest."

James couldn't agree more. Thomas, however, could hardly stand the heavy load that he had been pulling up the northern part of Great Britain for almost the entire day. He couldn't even think of other things like an armada of U-boats that surrounded the waters of Sodor as part of their campaign. Tragically on his part, only one engine had offered to help him with the heavy train, but he himself refused in the end. Therefore, Thomas had become incapable of understanding any technical problems that could have been avoided by pulling a lighter train.

On a more positive note, the day his life changed forever had come to a close and Thomas was making good time at his top speed. The train was getting heavier by the minute, but he pounded the rails as fast as his wheels would let him. His traction rods were starting to ache from running at a reckless pace. Thomas felt as if all the bigger engines had a true margin for speed, but it barely seemed to matter to him as the darkness of nighttime was soon setting down upon the land. The lights in his coach were turned off and his passengers were asleep. With his driver and fireman still hard at work in his cab and the guard sleeping alone in the brake van, Thomas knew that his passengers were safe within the grand machinery of rail transportation.

At 7:00, Thomas grew tired. After pulling such a heavy load, he was in great need of a rest. His driver sighted the rail yard of Carnforth just up ahead when something went rattle.

"Pull him over to the siding," the driver said to the fireman.

The fireman saw the nearest siding for himself and closed the firebox doors. Then the driver applied the handbrake, stopping Thomas a few feet from the buffers.

The stationmaster had responded from the platform, telling the signalman to set the points for the train to stop. But given the length difference between the train and the siding, they needed a shunter to place the extra trucks that were stuck on the main line. The sudden stop had awoken Thomas and he asked his crew what was the matter.

"It something to do with your wheels," said the driver. "We'll let the guard know about it."

After fetching the guard, the driver discovered that Thomas' traction rods had strained from the heavy trucks he had been hauling all day and was on the verge of breaking down. Once they examined the current state of the rods, all they could say was.

"Looks like we're stuck."

"You can't be serious!" Thomas argued. "I got us this far, didn't I?"

"Any further and you will have broken down for good," the driver said sadly.

"I guess they overdid it with the load," Thomas moaned. "Maybe I should have gotten some help. But all the same, I still have enough puff to pull the train with some assistance."

The stationmaster called for another engine and the guard went to inform the passengers by switching on the coach lights, telling them that their train had stopped for the night because of a "technical difficulty".

"What's he talking about?" yawned Wilbert to Carol.

Carol was awakened by his younger brother with a gentle nudging from his hands. Some of the other passengers dismissed the wake-up with a groan and went back to sleep. The rest of the passengers, only Norramby and Commander Yates, were unable to understand the guard's words.

At Barrow-in-Furness, Edward, who had also been assigned to Sodor for the completion of the North Western Railway, idly checked his load one last time before retiring. By chance, the stationmaster sent a message that Thomas was also on his way to Sodor and had stopped in Carnforth for the night due his strained traction rods. Edward's driver responded, but thought it best to assist Thomas in the early morning and proceed on to Sodor as scheduled. Edward himself, felt concerned and excited before going to bed.

Later on at 8:18 PM, a 2000 Class tank engine from the Midland Railway came to Carnforth to shunt the trucks of Thomas' train that were still stuck on the main line. A shunter uncoupled the major half of the train from the first five coal trucks connected to Thomas and moved them out of harm's way. The news of Thomas' stop at Carnforth was relayed to oncoming traffic en route to the station and with no extra room in the engine shed, he had to stay on the siding.

Late that night, as the other arriving engines had gone to sleep in the shed, Thomas felt almost amazed that his passengers did not share his sense of loneliness. He hummed to the tune of "Daisy Bell" in order to serenade his feelings of how dark and beautiful the night sky looked with shining stars that had faded from the lights of the yard. The moon creeped higher then lower into the black horizon, the distant sounds of the Morecambe Bay were so low that the waves crashing onto the beaches were like the chirps and screeches of nocturnal animals. One of them, an owl, flew over the yard, more clearly seen by the lights of the station and the yard in a perfect swoop of grace and agility. Thomas continued to hum the song, barely and merrily in the small siding. There were no more trains pulling in or out of the station and Thomas had less than 8 hours until sunrise.

At 4:56 AM on Thursday, May 13, Edward's driver and fireman were dressed and already prepared for action. They left Edward's train behind at Barrow and made their way to Carnforth. As they issued a detailed list of instructions regarding the North Western Railway's completion, the stationmaster at Barrow was in his office sending out a simple message to Thomas' crew: "We're coming as quick as possible."

Thomas opened his eyes to a new sunrise and a brand new day. The passengers slept silently in the coach or were half-awake from the light of the sun. Wilbert, among all of them, felt bright and early. The stationmaster went to prepare his morning routine, and from the platform he saw Edward puffing in from the Furness Line. Edward approached Thomas to greet him, only to have his reply be an exhausting yawn of "Who are you?". In spite of an improper greeting, Edward coupled the other half of the special train to Thomas' half and went to find a turntable so that he and Thomas could pull the train together head on. Thomas understood the price of testing his strength with such a heavy train as his traction rods were adjusted. By 5:35 AM, Edward's tender was coupled to Thomas' front and buffer to buffer, the two engines went on their way to Sodor.

As they left Carnforth, Edward's friend, a red tank engine named Albert approached them from Silverdale with his two coaches Victoria and Helena. Edward told him about Thomas' dilemma at Carnforth and that the both of them were going to Sodor. Albert, who had been at Windermere the previous night, recalled his driver's report of a special train entering their railway sometime at seven o'clock. Although he seemed rather cocky, Albert seemed very polite with Thomas as they discovered a similarity in their personas. Moving south to Carnforth and back again to Haverthwaite, Albert passed two other express trains who had already been informed of Thomas' arrival. When the big engines of those trains heard that the long and heavy special had been pulled by small tank engine, they just boasted over the fact they could have done better, but Albert simply told them that they were too late to help.

As they made their way to Barrow on the Furness Line, the rest of Thomas' passengers were just about waking up from a long sleep. The journey had become even longer thanks to the heavy load that Thomas strained to pull up the countryside. Edward and Thomas passed over the recently rebuilt Arnside viaduct, visible with its 50 piers and a panoramic view of the River Kent. A few cargo ships of the Furness Withy Line and a small windjammer were seen standing out in an impromptu regatta. Thomas was overpowered by the beauty of the sea, something he rarely got to face since his shunting practices at Southampton's harbours.

After a minute, Thomas asked Edward. "So you're going to Sodor, too?"

"Yes," replied Edward. "The superintendent, a Mr. Topham Hatt I believe he was, seemed like a nice, but rather stern man. He got to drive me and thought that I'd make a nice addition to the pre-existing engines on Sodor. When I heard that you were going to Sodor as well, you were the right engine to serve as a banker for both of our trains."

"Is it heavy like mine?" Thomas asked worriedly.

"Just one coach, two vans and six other trucks. It's not as long as yours. We have enough supplies to finish the North Western Railway, which is the main railway on Sodor."

Thomas changed the subject.

"Did it take you that long to come for me?"

"It was last night when control heard about a special train. I waited until the early morning to fetch you. When I did, I was fortunate not to wait for any other morning trains, except for a slow goods that kept me out of the way for two whole minutes at Lindal. I had an easier run after that."

"How impressive," Thomas said to himself.

At 6:01, overcast skies were looming overhead and by the time they reached Barrow, the clouds slowly disappeared. Edward marshaled his train to Thomas' break van. Then, as the clouds started to lift, Wilbert could see a green and grey patch of cliffs on the other side of the Walney Channel and the others knew that Sodor was not too far away. Presently, once they were on their way again, they rumbled over a rolling bridge and at last, they were on the North Western Railway.

"We're here!" cried Edward. "A new life is ahead of us."

Thomas couldn't agree more.