I needn't tell you that Duke wasn't pleased about his new nickname in the slightest. However, I kept it up for as long as I could. After weeks of me calling him 'Granpuff', the name stuck; it remained my gentle jab at his old age and endless wisdom; and it became an 'inside joke' for the pair of us, as I was the only one allowed to call Duke Granpuff (after much wearing down.)

But, as much as I tease him following my accident on the mountain, I'll confess that his wisdom served me well over the coming months of 1906. I even began to feel more at home than I had ever been since my arrival.

Several years passed; almost a decade, even, and I became more acquainted with how the Mid Sodor Railway did things. Sure, I never really liked trucks or pulling non-bogie wheeled coaches, but Duke didn't dare let me slack off if things didn't go my way.

So, life wasn't perfect, but I could live with what I got.

And then, in 1914, a strange heat gripped Great Britain. Duke and I sensed it, but neither of us could explain it. I had never felt something like this before. I looked to Duke for guidance; but neither had he.

28 July 1914 was the day we found out that Great Britain was at war.

The Prime Minister, Herbert Asquith, gave Germany an ultimatum to get out of Belgium by midnight of August 3rd, or else, the Germans would get a taste of our armies.

Duke explains to me, rather gravely, what that meant.

"You see, young Falcon," he said, "The British are under a treaty known as Treaty of London of 1839. It agrees that Belgium is an independent country, and anyone that invades, for whatever reason, Belgium will be defended by allies. That includes us."

"But why are the British defending Belgium?"

"Well, it's a country recognized in its own right."

"I know that, Granpuff! But what I want to know is why the British are coming to help Belgium now? What's happening?"

"What's happening, Falcon, is that Germany's invaded Belgium, because they're fighting France, and they wanted to find a quick way to get to France to fight." Duke's driver chipped in.

"And why is Germany fighting France?"

"That's because the Germans threatened Russia, and Russia is an ally of Great Britain and France. So, France is fighting the Germans, and Russia is fighting the Germans, and now, we're fighting the Germans."

"Is there anyone fighting us?" I asked. "Besides the Germans, obviously."

Duke looked a bit fed up at this point, but his driver continues. "Austria-Hungary. If Italy renounces its neutrality, then that'll be them fighting us, too. But we're in luck now."

"No, we're not, we're buggered!" I pointed out.

"Be quiet!" Snaps Duke. "It'll be a long war, young 'un, but we'll get through it, yet!"

"Well, everyone's saying that we could actually beat them by Christmas." Duke's fireman adds.

"Hmph!" Says Duke. "I'll believe it when I see it, gentlemen, and not a moment sooner."

"Are you implying something, Granpuff?" I ask.

Duke just tells me that the quality of our army is a source of patriotism; and a strong certainty to win the war; but certainly not a guarantee.

It was a golden summer that year on Sodor- but despite that, the chills of war ran through the land, from the coast to the mountains, from North to South and East to West, went up cries of war.

It was thus the beginning of a hard time for Sodor- and for us, too!