One major change I noticed on the Mid Sodor Railway in the days following the declaration of war was that the balance of goods/passengers' trains ratio was instantly upset.

Unfortunately, it was not in the way I would have preferred. Passengers, due to fear and uncertainty about the impact war would cause on Sodor, opted to travel less in favour of staying at home; whereas goods trains were increased, due to the higher demands for coal, wood, oil, food and other goods for people to prepare for war.

Needless to say, I am very cheesed off.

One upside of this whole sorry state of affairs Britannia's stuck in now is that we are being assigned to take ammunition trains. This was something new, even for old Duke; but even then, he usually took them, if he could help it. I felt a bit miffed, especially seeing as he wasn't so upfront about answers to my questions as to why I couldn't take some trains.

This enraged me all the more, and I resolved to speak with 'Granpuff' about the matter.

…

"Granpuff, I wish you would stop taking them all the time!" I complain, a few days after the above epiphany.

Duke raises an eyebrow at me, clearly not pleased about my lack of greeting; particularly since we hadn't seen each other for nearly six days, due to our packed schedules. "And may I ask what you mean by them, Falcon?" he asks me coolly.

"The ammunition trains!" I protest. "It's not fair, Granpuff, you always take them!"

"Need I remind you that you nearly went rolling down the mountain, only just recently, Falcon?" asks Duke, sternly. I wince, and glare back at him, feeling the injustice of the reminder sting my smokebox like a wasp.

"Come on, I said I was sorry." I say, trying to remain calm so as to ensure Duke's full attention "Besides, I'll be extra careful- I know I'm reckless on occasion"-

An eyebrow raises itself at that, prompting me to make a slight rephrasing of the rest of my passionate speech.

"-okay, more than on occasion; but not even I am selfish enough as to put my crew in danger for a moment's speeding."

"There's more to pulling ammunitions trains than going slowly, young 'un," Duke reminds me; but his expression does soften a little. "Well, you have done a lot better since the mountain incident, I must admit. I'll be willing to trust you, young Falcon, if you think you're ready."

Boy, was I thrilled!

"Oh, gee, thanks Granpuff!" I whistle happily.

"Alright, settle down, youngster!" Duke says sternly, but I see something in his eyes… like a smile, if you get what I mean. A… twinkle, in his eye, maybe? "I'll let you take it yourself, even. But you better get going."

"Wait, surely there's not one now, Granpuff!" I protest, in shock.

"No, no, Falcon!" Duke answers, a tad impatiently. "I mean, your train's ready to go now. You better get the coal in on time."

"I know, I know," I sigh, good naturedly. "I'll see ya, Granpuff,"

"Be careful," he warns me. "I heard Mr. French saying that the line's starting to get rickety, and he can't afford to get them repaired. So, mind the track this time!" He barks.

"I will, I will," I answer. But, not wanting to jinx my luck again, and also to keep the promise I made the day I hung on the mountain line, fearing for my life; I just about manage to refrain from calling him names, like 'fusspot' or 'fuddy-duddy'.

….

Sure enough, the line is getting rather bumpy and uncomfortable to travel on. I grimace, but I carry on, too excited about the prospect to finally pull an ammunitions train for the first time in my life!

I must admit though… it was a lonely achievement to celebrate.

Yeah, I guess I've grown to like the old timer back in the yard, but he and I are from different centuries! And I know few engines here on this island as it is; but I don't know any engines my own age.

It's a bit tragic, really, realizing that you have no companions your own age. I'm sure you people can empathize with that; especially when you're young, like me.

I mean, come on- I'm ten years old, going on eleven pretty soon! Why aren't there any other young engines to talk to? I mean, Duke goes on constantly about 'his Grace' and has particularly started talking about patriotism in an attempt to try and get me to show some motivation for my work.

It works- only not exactly how Duke wants it. I'm trying desperately not to hear the same old lectures over and over again; I don't want to hear about the Duke of Sodor for the umpteenth time, Duke!

….

'CRACK!'

I yelp as I unexpectedly jump off the rail and get stuck on the bank on the line. Fortunately, my back wheels and the trucks remain on the line. Nonetheless, I'm even more peeved off about Fortuna picking on me again.

But at least it isn't a life or death situation this time, I guess.

…

"Well, that's that, old boy." Driver tells me, a hint of disappointment in his tone. "You'll need to get checked over before we get you to the Workshops."

I bite my lip fearfully, remembering Duke's warning. Was I in trouble again?