FOREIGN EXCHANGE
Chapter Three - Homeward Bound
It was all thanks to Mister Ewald Moderhack, Lammergeier's former Controller back in Berlin, that the trip had come into being at all, of course. The man's initial intent had been to bring a media crew with him when he visited Sodor again in the late summer. It had soon escalated into something much more ambitious, a grand friendship tour to celebrate the entire German railway industry and the exploits of one of its more remarkable locomotive designs in particular. Even though the powers that currently governed Germany were so divided in their ideologies, both could recognize the same potential to generate goodwill in such an undertaking and proved to be far more receptive to Mister Moderhack's proposals than he could have hoped for. And he still had his old contacts, on both sides now. With their help, he soon overcame the last vestiges of doubt and had a working itinerary already approved and well in hand when he first broached his idea to Sir Topham Hatt to bring Lammergeier back to Europe for a very special tour.
The Fat Controller was just as cognizant as anyone when it came to recognizing a publicity gold mine. And the proposed timing couldn't have been better. There was always a lull in the tourist trade on Sodor after school restarted in the fall and Adler would do just fine as the Island's sole Raubvogel class representative for several weeks. As for Lammergeier himself, he was so excited by the notion of returning to Germany, even if just temporarily, that it became hard for anyone to shut him up; he was just so full of innumerable questions and speculations. "How should I know? Just wait till we get there!" both Surendra and Christophe began answering whenever it got to be too much, albeit always with a smile and a laugh. In truth, the two men thought it great to see their engine so eager and happy. They just knew he'd comport himself well and be a real credit to Sir Topham Hatt and the North Western Railway.
Thus it was that on a fine, sunny, early autumn morning only a short time later that four individuals from the Island of Sodor found themselves leaning over the top deck railing of their transport ship to watch their vessel tie up at one specific dock in the harbour of Bremerhaven, West Germany. A large contingent of people were already gathered on the dock to greet their special visitors as they disembarked…Sir Topham Hatt in the lead, of course, followed by Lammergeier's crew, Christophe Pelletier and Surendra Thakur. Lastly came Denise Doyon, whose primary role on this occasion would once again be to provide translating services, although she'd also packed her working clothes to fill in for either of her colleagues, if necessary.
All four Sudrians were especially effusive when greeting Mister Moderhack, the man who'd masterminded their tour. Ironically, it was Sir Topham's first actual meeting with the elegant old former Controller. He, and Surendra too for that matter, hadn't been present when the German had first visited Sodor and ultimately Ulfstead Castle as a mere tourist off a cruise ship.
"Velcome zu Germany," he said to Sir Topham as they shook hands, then chuckled. "Zat is all my English."
"Oh, well, not to worry. That's why I brought along Missus Doyon," Sir Topham chuckled in turn, then turned to beckon the woman in question forward. "Er, you'll tell him that, yes?"
Denise did so, smiling all the while. She really liked the old Controller and knew that he liked her. The other introductions proved to be a lot easier. All the people present who were representing the Deutsche Bundesbahn, West Germany's national railway, spoke English well, and as for the military folks in the group, most turned out to be fellow Brits who were most definitely well acquainted with the Queen's English. A couple of media types rounded things out. Neither of them were talking yet, just taking lots of pictures and recording the odd film clip, so how they'd make out linguistically was still anybody's guess.
The general chatter and business of making new friends ceased briefly when Lammergeier was first hoisted up off the ship and hung suspended for a few anxious moments, but it resumed as soon as the engine was safely down on one of the dockside tracks. Everyone crowded around him once his tender had been unloaded as well and a couple of fitters began reattaching it. Lammergeier had actually enjoyed his sea voyage and his good looks and presence invited immediate admiration.
"Oh, he is look brand new," said one of the railway reps. "You hef your own shop, yes, Sir Topham?"
"Yes, the Sodor Steamworks. We restored him there when he first arrived on the Island and they repaired him after his collision with the runaway lorry," the Fat Controller confirmed proudly.
"Very nice vork."
A number of cars drove out onto the dock and stopped nearby. A different railway official announced at that point that the engine was going to be shunted into a service area to pick up his coal, water and sand, after which they could all reconnect with him in a proper station where he'd be brought to finish up with his preparations. Some refreshments had already been laid out at the station, just coffee and tea and a few pastries and continental breakfast items to help pass the time while they all waited, so… Needless to say, everyone piled happily into the cars after that.
The station turned out to be a two-track annex close to the harbour's main railway freight depot, set aside specifically to prep rail stock travelling by ship or other special cargo. The little mixed party, visitors and hosts alike, relaxed and enjoyed their food and drink while they continued getting to know one another.
When Lammergeier finally reappeared, behind a good-sized diesel shunter, he was all set and ready to fire. Christophe and Surendra excused themselves and climbed up into his cab at once along with a pair of German railroaders, and the fitters and other shed specialists who'd been tending to the 48 and riding along hopped out on the other side. They went off to retrieve several big dolly loads full of specialized items already on site, which they wheeled up next to the engine and began unpacking. Soon, everyone saw for the first time what Lammergeier would be wearing for the duration of his tour. There were two huge flags to set on either side of his face, the tricoloured national flags of both Germanys this time, and both still identical in appearance for now. The men also pulled out long broad streamers, also coloured black, red and gold, to drape along Lammergeier's railings, and black and white rosettes for the posts, to fasten the festive banners in place. The decorations matched and enhanced the engine's own already eye-catching livery perfectly. His paintjob seemed almost to have been designed for the tour, but it was just a happy coincidence that he and his adornments blended so well. Even the sign he would carry on his foremost running board turned out to match, a simple design consisting of a stylized rampant black bear on a white background. Denise twisted her head to read the encircling words on the sign. "Berlin Friendship Tour," she murmured to herself.
Mister Moderhack overheard her and responded with a bit of surprising regret. "I wanted so much to call it the West-East German Friendship Tour," he said to her, "but the East Germans wouldn't hear of it. They insisted that they be referred to as the German Democratic Republic and nothing else. I just couldn't come up with something that didn't sound awkward as a result, so had to settle for the Berlin idea. That they accepted."
"The Berlin Friendship Tour sounds fine to me," said Denise.
"Oh, it'll do. I just wish the tour name could have acknowledged that Lammergeier represents the accomplishments of all of Germany's railway community."
Lammergeier thought that the Berlin idea was fine too. The men decorating him had shown him his sign before wiring it into place, and the sight of the city's ursine symbol had awoken an astonishing amount of sudden homesickness and nostalgia in the big 48. It was strange, this abrupt longing, he thought. He hadn't pined for his old homeland for years, had virtually forgotten about it once reunited with his brother Adler, who was the only really good thing remaining of the old days anyway in his mind at the time. Yet now, for the first time since learning that he was returning to Germany, he felt a real yearning underlying what had just been another ego-stroking albeit grander than usual tourist job to him. Lammergeier all of a sudden wanted to go home, and it wasn't to his new, adopted home on Sodor either. Was it just having so many fellow Germans about him and hearing their voices that was triggering his feelings? Being seen to by German railway workers and sitting on tracks built largely by German hands and seeing all the familiar signage written in his own first language again? He wasn't sure… All he knew was that his trip to come had just taken on an expanded emotional note which he hadn't expected at all.
He looked for the Fat Controller and Denise, who were both standing nearby, but wound up saying nothing to them. A need to adhere to his old behaviours in how he related to his human masters had arisen in tandem with his nostalgia. He felt obliged to bow to the men working on him and to follow their lead instead of expressing himself as freely as he'd gotten used to back on Sodor, not to mention that his driver Christophe had warned him about certain things. He sighed a little in his frustration and remained alert, waiting for an opening. Steam engines were always supposed to be attentive when there were human beings around and no one could get after him for being alert.
As it turned out, his human friends had already read the situation and understood why their engine kept silent…strangely silent, for him. "Well, Lambchop? What do you think?" Sir Topham called up to him. "Do you like your decorations?"
"I zink…I look beautiful. I hope I am beautiful," he replied with relief. Even Mister Moderhack understood his words and was quick to add his own assessment.
"You appear very impressive, Lammergeier, and very colourful. I daresay even your brother Adler would be envious of your colours," he said in German.
The engine beamed, pleased to be so kindly addressed by his old Controller. He switched languages in turn and said back, "Thank you, sir. I am looking forward to this journey very much. Most especially reaching Berlin. I feel a great desire to see Berlin again."
Mister Moderhack smiled. "Don't worry, my boy, we'll soon have you there. Before then, I can promise you that there'll be many, many people en route who'll be equally thrilled to see you. You've become quite the celebrity here."
"Yes, and it's well deserved," added one of the workers up on Lammergeier's running board. "You're a brave loco." And he reached out and actually patted the engine's cheek.
Lammergeier beamed again. It was a rare gesture, what the man had done. He'd been more used to being treated as strictly a working machine during his formative years in Europe, one that had been highly valued, true, at least at first, yet always handled with a certain professionalism. The concept of having human friends akin to having engine friends had been foreign to him back then.
The same shunter as before suddenly brought up the passenger coach which the 48 would be pulling throughout his journey. It had already been painted up to match Lammergeier's livery and its broad white horizontal trim line sported a repeat of the rampant bear symbol on a rondelle plus the Berlin Friendship Tour phrase. The only other mark on it was the DB logo high up on the coach's red side towards its back end, the same logo carried by all stock belonging to West Germany's national railway.
"Your chariot awaits," one of the military men in the welcoming party, an American army colonel, remarked cheerfully to Sir Topham Hatt. The Sudrians had initially been surprised to see any Americans at all present to greet them, believing themselves to be docking in the former British occupation zone in what had gone on to become West Germany, but the Colonel had explained that his countrymen had always been responsible for administering a couple of extra select districts by the coast, primarily to have dedicated harbours through which to move their own supplies and troops. So if they noticed the Stars and Stripes still flying here and there…well, that was why. The Union Jack would predominate again once they got underway some.
"And I've gotta get underway too," the American concluded in a jovial tone. "Ah just came by to make sure you landed all right and meet yer Big Red there. Ah love trains. Used to love watching those big freighters haul coal out of the Alleghenies. Hey, you folks have yourselves a real good time while you're here, okay? And good luck crossing the border. You don't want to be late, not even by a minute. Them Soviets, you can work with 'em but they just hate it when you go off schedule. And you, Red…you watch out for runaway trucks while you're travelin'. Don't need another one of those smashing into you, ha ha!"
"Zank you. I vill be careful." Lammergeier's response was polite and correct, yet he looked utterly bemused. Sir Topham Hatt and Denise, whom the American had been regaling, looked pretty bemused too.
The engine tried out his whistle next, to let everyone know that his steam was up and that he was ready to roll. The human members of his tour contingent climbed aboard. The red and black coach was just as nice inside as it was outside. A number of seats in the middle had been removed and the space made over with opposing wraparound bench seats and tables instead. More seats had been removed at either end next to the doors, to create extra floor space for the handy storage of everyone's luggage and additional equipment and even a stash of full coolers and thermoses should anyone aboard feel peckish and in need of something to drink or nosh on. Plenty of blankets and pillows on the luggage racks above the seats that were left rounded out the amenities and added that last, homey touch. Whatever was to come, the people taking part in the tour knew that at least they'd be comfortable while en route.
Lammergeier blasted his whistle again, this time at full volume and to announce his departure. The little annex fell away behind him as he began loudly chuffing forward: he was on his way! Best of all, Christophe and Surendra were running him hot, a wasteful practice normally, but it did allow the engine to blow out the huge, snowy-white plume that rail fans just loved to see trailing along above every steam locomotive. Running at full steam even at slow speeds also always made Lammergeier feel sooo good. It was a loco's way of experiencing an adrenaline rush, really, and the 48 wore a broad smile as he left the dockyard area behind him and got onto the rail lines that would take him to the official start to their journey, the little city of Bremen.
Isolated little knots of people started appearing near the tracks almost at once. Mister Moderhack had seen to it that the Berlin Friendship Tour and its itinerary had been very well publicised, and a lot of locals were apparently more than happy to hike on over to their neighbourhood railway lines to enjoy the show. The weather couldn't have been better either, a touch coolish, given that it was still early, and sunny and calm, and the nearby Weser River provided an unusually picturesque backdrop.
It wasn't until Lammergeier reached the outskirts of Bremen that the visiting humans aboard first saw any evidence of what the War just past had left behind it. The transit routes next to the river, road and rail alike, remained in fine shape, and the buildings nearby all looked to be either untouched or in good repair or even new. But further afield, poking up here and there on the horizon, were the ragged tops of bombed out structures still awaiting their turn for restoration or further demolition. Denise remembered reading stories of how the local survivors of air raids and shelling had had to make due for months and even years living in the basements of such buildings—there'd been nowhere else to take shelter sometimes. She was suddenly very grateful that her adopted homes, first Canada and then Sodor, had escaped being dealt such wanton destruction.
Wherever the residents of Bremen were now living, there were clearly a lot of them, for there was a huge crowd awaiting Lammergeier's arrival at the main train station. A sea of little German flags, clutched in hundreds of hands, fluttered wildly. Two bands, one German, the other a British military brass band, battled for musical supremacy with the engine's own blaring whistle as he drew up at his platform. People shouted, whistled, clapped and cheered. It was a great welcome, a wonderful start to their tour.
A small decorated platform had been set up next to the tracks and several city officials were already standing on it, waiting for their guests. Mister Moderhack led Sir Topham Hatt and the senior Deutsche Bundesbahn representative over to meet them, while Denise edged her way over to Lammergeier's cab entrance; she knew that the DB rep's English was excellent and that he could look after Sir Topham's translating needs as well as anyone. Plus which she wanted to check in with her friends Christophe and Surendra, find out how they'd been making out. The early answer was evidently just fine, thank you very much. Both men were already leaning out over the cab door above her, peering down and grinning up a storm.
"How're you two doing up there?"
"Great!" the little driver enthused. "Isn't this something? What a turnout!"
They paused to listen to the first of several short speeches made by one of the city officials on the platform, then the railway rep, then Mister Moderhack. Denise was a little astonished by how much the old Controller praised the locomotive presently sitting at the platform, holding him up as an example of how all Germans should approach the postwar era, adapting and accommodating and even making amends if the opportunity presented itself. She was certain that the man had no real clue as to Lammergeier's true nature, yet he was speaking of him as though he were human himself, and the crowd loved it. They erupted in a roar of approval as soon as Mister Moderhack was finished, and then, given that the official intros were done, surged forward to get a closer look at the colourful metal star of all the festivities. Lammergeier's crew slipped out while they could, leaving the German crew who'd been helping out in the cab and navigating for them in charge. All three Sudrians wound their way to the crowd's edge after that and found a spot where they wouldn't get too jostled and from which they could watch their engine interact with his adoring public. The 48 hadn't uttered a word since being addressed by both Controllers, the old and the new, back in Bremerhaven, and they hoped he would behave himself given that he'd been left to socialize on his own.
Surprisingly, it was the children with whom he conversed the most. A lot of kids were clustered in the crowd, several classrooms' worth by the looks of it, and they'd been given precedence so they could get right up next to the loco to touch him and look up into his face. Of course some of them wanted to talk to him too, and from the questions some of the youngsters asked, it was clear that they already knew Lammergeier's story.
"Yes, I am very happy to be back again… No, it did not hurt too badly when the truck hit me. I was shocked, mostly, and we don't feel pain as much as you humans do…" they heard him answering, his loud deep engine voice clear even amidst all the hubbub. "Yes, that is right. My brother Adler works with me and lives right next to me in the same stables back on Sodor… Do we get along? I don't know. Do you always get along with your own siblings?"
The corner of his mouth quirked up a touch as Lammergeier made his last comment, otherwise his expression remained entirely affable. Denise was impressed by his patience.
"Wow. He's…really good with the kids," she remarked.
"We coached him some back on Sodor," said Surendra. "When a lot of parents first started coming up to him at the stations so their little ones could thank him."
"Yes, he's really not that bad now," Christophe added, then laughed. "Course he's also probably a little desperate. They don't talk so much to their locos here, at least not the adults. Even the two guys in our cab… They drove some of Lammergeier's predecessors, the 44s, back in the Thirties, then switched to the 50s and 52s once they started rolling out and they've been driving them ever since. Purely mechanical classes, as far as I know. They never built a single living one. I dunno… Maybe they just got out of the habit. We offered to introduce them to Lammergeier once we got underway—he likes to talk even en route—but they just said maybe later and asked to see more of how his controls were set up."
"They don't do any routine maintenance or grooming either, the cab crews," Surendra said. "I think they use pools of crews here too, instead of assigning the same people to the same engines all the time. Lammergeier once mentioned that he could recall at least a dozen different drivers handling him back in the day, who used to work with all three 48s."
"Is that why he was so chummy with all the fitters at the Sodor Steamworks when he first arrived?" Denise asked. "Because that was the only place where he'd see familiar faces all the time, at the works?"
"Could be," Christophe chimed back in. "Of course he was pretty stressed before we got him running too. Anything familiar might have done back then, I suspect. He latched onto you pretty quick."
"Mm," Denise acknowledged, her response decidedly lukewarm. She still had ambivalent feelings about Lammergeier's behaviour back when she'd first gotten to know him.
They paused to watch Sir Topham Hatt for a while. Like themselves, he'd gravitated out to the edge of the crowds pressing in to look at Lammergeier and had attracted a following all his own, a number of British Army personnel who'd been hanging back some to let the local Germans celebrate. Even though the former Allied occupation zones didn't formally exist anymore, a lot of UK soldiers were still stationed within West Germany and they were clearly delighted to be visited by a little taste of home in the generous form of the Fat Controller.
One of the local organizers swung by not long after that and rounded up all four Sudrians plus the other official human members of the Friendship Tour to take them off for a well-deserved midday break and some lunch. Lunchtime was a serious business in Germany. A private dining annex in a nearby restaurant was the only space large enough to accommodate everyone, guests and hosts alike, and was all ready to receive them, and a room in the attached hotel was available as well should any of the guests feel the need to freshen up beforehand…a thoughtful touch. Lammergeier was the only individual left behind to continue working during the noon hour, if one could call basking in the admiration of his many visitors working. Denise did aim one slightly concerned glance his way before she was driven away from the station, but no one else seemed at all worried, and indeed the engine continued to comport himself very well while his human friends were away enjoying their leisurely meal.
In the midafternoon, Lammergeier and his tour entourage made ready to leave again. A great many people ran on ahead down the track to get better pictures of his departure and as usual, the big 48 did not disappoint. But soon the clusters of onlookers lining the sides of the tracks fell away behind them and so did Bremen. They were steaming through a more rural landscape now, one that appeared to have been left untouched by the recent conflicts. It took a keen eye to see the repairs made to the occasional barn or farmhouse to cover up where a shell or bullets or a careening tank had struck and realize that the residents of even this most peaceful of settings had not entirely escaped after all.
They steamed on at a good clip for several hours that late afternoon, always moving southeastward, and crossed several rivers. At sunset, they entered the first major stop of their tour, the city of Hannover, where they were slated to remain for two nights. Hannover was somewhat like Bremen from what the visitors could see of their new surroundings in the gathering dusk, with its rebuilt urban center already functioning smoothly and well, but with much on its outskirts left to bring back to life. A small welcoming party was again on hand to receive them at the main railway station when they pulled in, but not too many rail fans this time. They, humans and the engine alike, were supposed to have the evening off to rest and recuperate. Tomorrow would be the busy day. To this end, Lammergeier's entourage was again whisked off before they barely had time to disembark and say hello, while a number of station workers descended on the engine to care for him and keep him safe overnight.
Whatever was done for the 48 that evening and on into the wee hours was evidently to his liking for he looked fine when he and his humans reconnected the next morning and no one forwarded any complaints. Another huge crowd came to see Lammergeier at the station during the two hours he was scheduled to be on public display early that day and equal numbers lined the local rails to watch him go by when he went out to do a short looping tour throughout the region during the rest of the morning and on into the afternoon. Occasionally, they would stop briefly at a select small station, but mostly Lammergeier just kept chuffing proudly along, eyeing and smiling at all the fans waving at him and blowing his whistle at every opportunity. His outgoing behaviour continued to surprise some…thrill others… As for the engine's Controllers, the old and the new, they were both so pleased by the response so far that they were happy to bump knees as they sat turned sideways together on their bench seat so they could lean out of their window and wave back in turn. It was a great little day trip through some of the prettiest, mostly riverine settlements and scenery imaginable, and by the end of it, they pulled right back into the same Hannover station where Lammergeier would again be available for viewing and visiting for the remainder of the day. Nothing similar would be asked of the loco's humans, however. There were about a zillion railroaders, it seemed, working in Hannover, and all of them were eager to continue comparing notes with their exciting guests that evening, not to mention wanting to show them a good time.
The next morning's departure was an early one, yet there were plenty of locals again present despite the hour to provide a cheerful farewell. A goods train pulled by a German class 50 locomotive, a 10-wheeler cousin of Lammergeier's, coincidently left their station right behind them and wound up accompanying them as far as the next sizable city on their route, Braunschweig. At one point, they travelled over an upgraded portion of the tracks where a third line had been recently added, and both locomotives were able to chuff along side by side for several kilometers. The 50 was not a living loco, but it was still a fine machine, a war survivor at that, and the people inside Lammergeier's coach admired and talked about it while the respective cab crews had fun yelling back and forth at each other. They didn't drop their temporary companion until both engines had almost reached Braunschweig. There, the class 50 made for the freight yard. Lammergeier turned aside over some points to bypass the city entirely.
He was heading for the border crossing between West and East Germany.
to be continued...