Years passed since that day. I matured into a fifteen-year-old engine, just as rebellious and spunky as I had been when I first arrived here back in '04.

Duke was getting older too- he wasn't as proficient at keeping up to speed as he had been before, he was slowing down- but he was persistent, stubborn, and determined to keep going, as well as kindly to all he met.

I'll admit, he was actually a pretty good mentor- he taught me not only the ways of the railway and how to shunt, but he taught me about the stars that glittered in the sky; he answered all my philosophical conundrums with a no-nonsense manner, even if he couldn't actually give me an answer; he gave me stern reminders of when I needed to sharpen my behaviour; but he always stood up for me too, when I got a hard time from our new foreman, Mr. Square, who never had a kind thing to say to either of us.

He was my Granpuff.

And he helped me survive one of Britain's most turbulent periods in history… simply by carrying on.

Well, this continuation of normality was punctuated by the occasional rant about the Germans- but I could understand that- after all, they were slaughtering good men and innocent boys on the fields of France- all in the name of the Kaiser…

But, yeah, you get the gist. Duke kept me going when I couldn't even be bothered getting out of the damn shed in the morning.

And I respect him deeply for that- and I always will.

….

"Did you hear the news, Falcon?" My driver asks me on the morning of June 30th, 1919. It had been less than a year since the guns had been silenced, much to my relief, and I was perfectly content with putting the trauma of the headlines behind me and carrying on.

"No," I yawn, grumpily, as Firelighter lights my fire and my Fireman helps him to get it built up so I can produce enough steam to fully wake up properly. "I just woke up; only thing I've heard is you droning on about something I have not yet heard and have no interest in."

"You need to learn to watch that mouth of yours," Says Fireman sternly. "Mr. French won't like hearing you talk like that."

"Anyway," Continues Driver, "there was talks ongoing between US President Woodrow Wilson, good old David Lloyd George and the French Prime Minister Georges Clemenceau at Versailles to agree on a treaty to limit Germany's military powers and stop her from going to war again."

"About time, too!" Huffs Duke. "Germany should be made to pay for doing so much damage to our allies!"

But I felt rather uneasy about the situation; limiting Germany's power… that was a dangerous move. I've learned in my near fifteen years of living that punishment takes away one's voice. And that voice…. In its desire to be heard, can lead to people (or engines) to make themselves heard; to shout out they're the most powerful, strongest, grandest ever to walk the Earth; and that always leads to someone or some persons to pay the price.

"In addition," Adds my driver, continuing to scan the article. "Germany is being made to pay reparations to France and Belgium for the damage they caused during the war."

"Quite right, too!" Says Duke, firmly. "I didn't approve of the shooting of the Archduke of Austria. Nor did I approve of Germany trying to seek glory by Empire building."

"But we have an Empire, Granpuff." I point out.

"I am aware, Falcon," he replies. "But it took humans murdering, enslaving and doing other acts of cruelty to their fellow man for the sake of a bulging purse and so-called patriotism."

I was surprised to hear such comments from Duke, considering he was named after 'his Grace' who was a patriotic sort of chap, from what I hear. The years between that fateful day in the yard, when e found out about the new engine, up to 11th November 1918- and even from then till now, I've heard a lot of anti-German sentiments.

Initially I held some sympathy for them- but that changed after hearing the stuff our chaps went through on the front lines. Knowing that these were caused by German people caused me to lose respect and sympathy, little by little.

However, the Christmas Truce of 1914 gave me some small hope; that these men weren't some evil monsters sent to destroy us; they had also been recruited into a devastating war and lost many people; many families permanently shattered- just like what had happened to us.

"Of course," he continues, interrupting my reflections on human nature. "I think the only sensible thing they achieved during the Industrial Revolution was the building of 'the Rocket'."

"What's 'the Rocket', Granpuff?" I ask curiously.

"'The Rocket'," says Duke grandly, "was built in 1830- to a very early steam locomotive design, who later went on to win the Rainhill Trials for his designer, Stephenson. All locomotives built take after his design."

"1830?" I wheesh in disbelief, "Proteus, Granpuff, that engine's even older than you! And I thought those were a myth!"

"Why you impertinent scallywag!" Duke exclaims indignantly, and I start chuckling in quiet triumph. However, as quickly as it comes, my mirth fades away again, as I suddenly remember what I had wanted to tell Granpuff about my thoughts on the Treaty.

"Granpuff," I say, quietly. "I don't think the Treaty will work."

"Why not, Falcon?" He asks me. But there was no accusatory tone in his voice; just genuine curiosity to hear a different take on the argument.

I continued, "I just feel that Germany, for all the glory the country has, or had before all this happened, will get angry at us, and France, and America for beating the nation down; especially since they would have a lot to cope with in the Great War; like what us Britons had." I pause, awaiting Duke's reaction.

"Go on," he says thoughtfully. Feeling rather bold and mature for a change, I gladly carry on. "I think that Germany may plot revenge against the Allies, somehow."

Duke is silent for a moment, clearly absorbing my argument into his funnel. "I can understand your view, Falcon," he says quietly. "You make a very good point."

That compliment made me feel a puffed up in the smokebox, but can you blame me? I'm growing up, for Proteus's sake! I like having my thoughts and opinions appreciated more now than I ever had done before.

"However, the way I see it," continues my mentor, "the Germans may very well be plotting our downfall and planning for a rise to glory once more. However, they cannot achieve this without violating the Treaty; so as far as this is concerned, that's all they'll do." He finishes, smiling at me reassuringly.

I could tell he was genuinely trying to make me feel better; but I still had a niggling fear at the back of my mind that something might still happen one day.

After all, renegades never follow the rules. I know that better than anyone.

….

Mere days after the announcement of the Treaty of Versailles, Mr. French came practically waltzing into the yard, with a letter in his hand.

"Ah-ha, hello, my engines!" He greets, cheerfully.

"Are you alright, sir?" Asks Driver, worriedly. "You haven't gone and lost the plot, have you?"

"What-certainly not! I'm as fit as a fiddle! I am merely overjoyed as our new engine will be arriving next year! Manufacturing is now in full swing!"

I gulp- really, is that happening so soon?

….

Months pass- soon, summer turns to autumn, and the autumn leaves soon give way to blizzards and ice, freezing the line and causing disruption and chaos. A pain, seeing as we were trying to pick up the swing of things again after the lull in activity during the war.

"Well, the new engine will arrive in spring next year," Announces Mr. French on the evening of December 14th.

"What will his name be, sir?" Asks Duke.

"His name is Stuart, after his designers." Replies Mr. French. "He will be a Kerr Stuart Tattoo locomotive- he has two brothers currently being built. One, Little Barford, will be operating at the Peel Godred Power Station here on Sodor, and their brother, Kerr, will be going to the Corris Railway in Wales."

I nearly double take when I hear the news. "Really, sir?" I ask him, disbelievingly.

"Why do you ask, Falcon?"

"Oh, it's just my brother Hugh's over there." I explain, embarrassed. "He'll be happy at the new help, I'm sure."

"Hm, quite right, Falcon," agrees Mr. French musingly. "Anyway, so Stuart will be due here in the springtime, and I want you both to make him welcome when he arrives. After all, he'll be new off the assembly line, and you both have a significant age advantage over him."

Yeah, no kidding. And at nearly sixteen years, I had already learned about the harsh realities of war- and I hoped this kid wouldn't have to as well.