Joseph Tripp is the local postman around the Lake District, and he is one of the friendliest people around the Josephine Railway. He usually takes the mail from the post trains to deliver to the residents that can't be reached by the rails. He is very friendly and helps to load up the mail wagons, but he knew she could never get the job done without his trusty post van.
On a calm and crisp morning, Joseph was standing by the platform of a small station that links to a small airfield. He was waiting for one of the engines to arrive so he could pick up the mail and load it up into the van.
Joseph Tripp is around 22 years of age, sporting pale brown eyes, a fair skin tone, with long blue hair reaching to the bottom of his neck, the blue turning to black at the tips of his hair. He has a slender body and frame, while sporting slim muscles, while standing 5ft 10" tall. His attire is a black shirt with a black jacket, plus a pair of blue jeans, and black boots.
A few moments go by, then Belle chuffed into view, arriving with the post train. The train consists of four brightly red painted wagons, the logo of an envelope on the sides of the van, and there's one brakevan. The wagons are South Eastern & Chatham Railway Diagram 960 Parcels and Miscellaneous Vans (PMV).
"Morning, Joseph." Belle greeted. "Nice morning, isn't it?" She asked.
"It is, indeed." Joseph nodded. He saw the workmen start to unload the wagons, and began to sort them in the post office. "Seems like there's a lot of mail to move about." He added.
"And a good thing I've been chosen to be the post train." Belle added in. "The others would have a bit of trouble with starting off early in the morning, except for Liliana."
"She did tell me about that, but she added she's not as strong as the others." Joseph implied.
"I understand." Joseph nodded. "Well, I'd better get to work on sorting the mail. Hope to talk to you later today, Belle."
After a few minutes, the mail had been sorted, and Belle left with her train, heading back down the line to the main station. Joseph picked up his mail bags, loading them up into his post van, and he was ready.
Joseph's van is a 1957 Morris Commercial J-Type van. The van is painted in bright red with a light grey rooftop. It also had black hubcaps, with 'Royal Mail' written on the sides of the van. The van has a 4.9L in-line six-cylinder Ford engine, along with a four-speed gearbox.
The Morris Commercial J-type is a 0.5 tonne van launched by Morris Commercial in 1949 and produced until 1961. After the formation of the British Motor Corporation (BRC) in 1952, by the merger of Morris' parent company, the Nuffield Organisation, and Austin, the Commercial name was dropped and the van was marketed as the Morris J-type.
Joseph loaded up his mail bags into the van, and after checking where the mail has to go, he drove away, heading off down the road to deliver the mail.
Down at Marion Station and sheds, the engines were getting ready for their jobs for the day; Braedey and Diana have their passenger and goods runs, Austin and Max handling the trucks and shunting, and Liliana doing maintenance, and clearing the line of trees and branches too close to the tracks.
Croghan, meanwhile, was sitting up in his shed berth, mumbling to himself. He had been sitting in the shed for over a few weeks, after insubordination against the engines and Mr. Franklin, and was shut up in the sheds.
Mr. Franklin arrived, walking up to the GT3 turbine. "Croghan. I have been reconsidering about my decision." He began. "Because of your behaviour and your attitude on this railway, myself and the rest of the team have been thinking of selling you off."
"What?!" Croghan couldn't believe what he was hearing from the manager. "You're planning to sell me away? I am the Revolution. I am the new age. I'm the newest innovation of locomotion." He spoke out defiantly.
"Unfortunately, nobody else sees it that way." Mr. Franklin spoke back. "An online community poll was set up about a month ago to see which engine was the best by the people. The others were ranked up in the 50's to 85% in popularity."
"And me?" Croghan asked. He was now smirking to think he was at the top of the list.
"You only gained 2% in popularity." Mr. Franklin said simply, Croghan's jaw dropping in response. "Instead of praising words, the tourists and regular folks coming to the railway have been sending complaints of you. They tell about how rough you ride, that you spoil their photographs with your fumes, bump and bash the coaches about, as well as you boasting you're better than any other engine." He added on.
"But I am better. I am a modern locomotive and the revolution of this railway. And yet, I only have a 2% popularity compared to those clapped-out steam kettles and a diesel generator on wheels?" Croghan asked incredulously at his manager.
Mr. Franklin narrowed his eyes to the GT3 Turbine locomotive. "I am going to give you one last chance. Today, a group of rail enthusiasts are coming here to take a journey across the Lake District. You will be taking that train. If things don't go as well as planned, then consider your time on this railway... on the line." He emphasised on the last part.
With that, Mr. Franklin walked away. Croghan gave a low scoff, not taking what his manager said seriously, and he gave a rumble of his turbine, ready to go.
'He couldn't get rid of me just because of a bad performance I've done over the past month or so.' Croghan said mentally. 'I am the symbol of revolution. I am the perfect locomotive. Nothing is better than me.'
Nearby, Belle was taking on water, and she had heard everything. She was actually surprised of how serious Mr. Franklin was at the GT3 Turbine locomotive. She has not liked Croghan, especially after he had smack-talked her and the others about him being superior.
'Once he is gone, things will be more peaceful around here.' Belle sighed mentally, now heading off to get some trucks.
Later, Croghan was sitting down at the station, with a set of coaches coupled up behind him. He grumbled to himself as he sat at the platform, ready to get going. He was getting rather impatient, but his driver was trying his best to keep him at bay.
Marion Station has a little shop for refreshments, so passengers and crews could come in and have some tea and cakes. The conductor and the guard bought some tea and cakes from a Refreshment Lady. After a little while, everyone was back on the train, and ready to go.
"Come on, come on." Croghan grumbled to himself in annoyance. "We have to get going."
The conductor was now ready with his flag and whistle. The Refreshment Lady was making her way down to catch the train. Then, it happened. Croghan rumbled to life, and he began to pull out of the station with a grumble and growl. The conductor said Croghan was too impatient to others, but Croghan was sure he heard a whistle anyway, as he began to leave.
"Stop, stop, stop!" The coaches yelled out to Croghan. "You left the Refreshment Lady behind!"
Croghan scoffed. "Bother that. She can catch the next train." He grumbled, and he headed off down the line in a cloud of his smoke.
Croghan rumbled down the line as if nobody was at his controls. He passed through junctions at very reckless speeds, zipping by other engines, who blew their whistles at them to tell him to stop or slow down, but Croghan didn't care. He just kept on going, even going by stations where he's meant to stop, but he did not care at all. The passengers and enthusiasts were being bumped about in the coaches, their bags falling off the luggage racks, as well as the trolley carts being broken and smashed to pieces, spilling food and drinks onto the ground. Some passengers got knocked left and right, the coaches leaning to either side as they go around a bend, and it was causing major distress among the passengers. With all this happening, Croghan didn't seem to care. He was rumbling along at speed, and without a care in the world.
After an hour, Croghan arrived down at Barrow-in-Furness, coming to a halt with a sudden stop, the coaches bumping and bashing into one another behind him. James, who was taking the Wild Nor' Wester for Gordon to and from Sodor, looked at the GT3 Turbine with worry.
"You shouldn't be bumping your coaches around like that." James advised you Croghan. "The passengers wouldn't like it if they were bumped about like trucks."
"Push off, kettle!" Croghan spat. "I couldn't care less. I will pull my train how I see fit, and I did it perfectly."
James was fuming in anger, but he wasn't the only one. The passengers got out of the coaches like angry bees, and they all aimed their complaints at Croghan. They said how bad he was, how rough he rode, along with him not stopping at any of the stations. Everyone was very cross.
Just then, a whistle echoed out, as the sound of an engine approaching could be heard. Croghan and James looked to see Braedey storming in at speed, with a single small coach behind him. He slowed to a gentle stop on the opposite track. He then looked to see James and Croghan sitting down by the platform.
"Croghan, you have caused nothing but trouble for everyone." Braedey fumed, as the Refreshment Lady stepped out of the carriage. "On top of you not stopping to let the Refreshment Lady get on your train, you raced through every signal and junction, nearly causing accidents."
"Oh, come on." Croghan scoffed, the Refreshment Lady now up on the platform. "That's rubbish. I was going along at the proper speed this railway should go, not at your lumbering pace." He added in.
The Refreshment Lady was still cross. "What do you mean by leaving me behind?" She demanded angrily at the GT3 Turbine locomotive.
"You could just catch the next train." Croghan rebutted the argument.
The Refreshment Lady was furious. "I have to catch this train to get to Sodor, and you nearly made me lose my connecting train!" She turned to Braedey, and smiled gently. "Thank you, dear engine, for getting me here to the station."
"Of course, Madame." Braedey smiled back, then watched the Refreshment Lady climb onboard James' train. "You'd better get back to Sodor quickly, James. Those people need to get home and to their businesses pronto."
"You got it, partner." James blew his whistle, and he puffed out of the station, Croghan fuming angrily.
"What are you playing at?" Croghan demanded from Braedey, James now out of sight. "Those passengers were enjoying themselves. Their complaints are nothing but fodder."
"Says you." Braedey huffed. "Mr. Franklin with talk to you later." With that, he took Croghan's coaches, and he headed off back down the line to the Josephine Railway, Croghan grumbling all the way home.
Later that afternoon, it was now dusk. The engines have returned home, all of them still talking about what had happened earlier, and plus, it was secretly good to see that Croghan was getting his just deserts.
Croghan sat on the turntable, the other engines in their berths, while Mr. Franklin stood before the GT3 Turbine locomotive. Croghan didn't feel high and mighty, but he remained stoic.
"Croghan, I have received nothing but complaints from the passengers you took around the Lake District, and brought them down to Barrow-in-Furness." Mr. Franklin spoke out. "You have caused nothing but trouble and discomfort, as well as nearly making the Refreshment Lady to miss her train."
"So?" Croghan asked sarcastically.
Mr. Franklin pinched the bridge of his nose, then glared at Croghan. "Croghan. Your performance has fallen more and more. You disobeyed signals, jumped junctions, nearly caused up to 30 accidents, and there's also the fact some of your passengers were injured during your run."
"And your point?" Croghan huffed. The other engines were in shock; he was literally talking back to their controller, as if he's got a death-wish or something. "All those passengers do is complain. They don't appreciate anything I do."
"How can they when you gave them such a rough ride?" Braedey asked incredulously, Croghan glaring at him. "I saw you race by me so badly, your coaches were swaying back and forth, and I could see your passengers were not having an enjoyable ride."
"Be silent, you old steaming hunk of metal." Croghan ordered at Braedey. "This railway needs engines like me to bring it into the modern era."
"No. It doesn't." Mr. Franklin stated simply. "And I've made my final decision. Croghan, you are hereby removed from the Josephine Railway, and you shall be sent away to the National Railway Museum in York." He declared finally. "You'll be placed into storage there."
Everyone was silent. Whatever that Mr. Franklin said was absolute, and nothing more. Nobody wanted to say a thing, even with Croghan about to say something else.
"You can't just get rid of me. I am the revolution. I am the pride of locomotion. Nothing can ever replace me." Croghan proclaimed at once.
"Sadly, you won't get that chance. A diesel has been sent to take you away." Mr. Franklin said finally, just as a blue British Rail Class 45 diesel rolled up. "You shall never come back to this railway, ever again." He said finally to Croghan.
"I'll take him to the museum at once." The BR Class 45 diesel said to Mr. Franklin, the latter nodding to the blue diesel.
The BR Class 45 diesel coupled up to Croghan, the latter's engine shut off and his fuel drained out of his tanks, rendering Croghan immobilised. With the GT3 Turbine locomotive shouting in protest of him being taken away, the diesel locomotive gave a honk of his horn, and he rolled away down the line, pulling an angry turbine engine behind him.
"Well, good riddance to bad rubbish." Max spoke out finally, the others laughing with the shunting diesel.
"Let this be a lesson, everyone." Mr. Franklin spoke up to the other engines.
"Yes, sir!" The engines replied in unison at once.
Diana then had a thought. "Sir, if you don't mind me asking." She asked quietly, Mr. Franklin nodding to her to continue. "How did Croghan end up here in the first place?" She asked.
Braedey then spoke up. "It actually happened about 10 years before the formation of the Josephine Railway."
"Yes." Mr. Franklin nodded, and he began to tell Croghan's story. "Croghan was designed by English Electric engineer J.O.P. Hughes in a project that started in the early 1950s. Externally, he resembled a steam tender locomotive, but, in Croghan's case, the tender carries kerosene fuel. The designer stated the use of a traditional chassis arrangement and mechanical transmission was to avoid complicating the prototype with (at the time of its conception) relatively untried technologies with regard to bogie assemblies and electrical transmission. Sadly, despite returning favourable performances on longer runs requiring sustained power outputs, Croghan's prototype nature would require further investigation and development into a configuration which would have matched the convenience of the new double ended diesel electric locomotives then being built. Neither English Electric or British Railways were prepared to fund this work as at the same time both were already heavily committed to the diesel/electric concept, with English Electric in particular fully engaged in manufacturing diesel-electric locomotives of many types. Upon completion of the test runs, Croghanwas returned to English Electric at Vulcan Foundry at the end of 1962 and stored."
"So, what happened next?" Liliana asked to Mr. Franklin and Braedey. They seemed to know more about Croghan's past.
"Well, it was when the concept of the Josephine Railway was starting to come to fruition. I was withdrawn at the start of 1963 at Cardiff East Dock. But, I was fortunately purchased in the August of 1965 by Mr. Franklin's grandfather and uncle, the two of them telling me they were planning on a family-run railway in the Southwest of Britain, not far from Barrow-in-Furness." Braedey began to explain. "I was too happy to help out, and pleased to be back in service again. It was a long journey for me to travel to my new home, going about 319 kilometres from Cardiff to the Lake District. When I arrived, the basis of the station, roundhouse, and shunting yards were just set up from the rails that lead to Barrow-in-Furness, and were underway in construction. The rails was what's needed, and needed to go out to other towns and harbours around us. I assisted in the construction of the tracks leading to the coaling plant, as well as the lines going around the District, with stations also being built along the lines."
"While Braedey was helping with the construction of the railway, with Austin also being on his way, Croghan was purchased by my uncle to assist Braedey with the building of the line." Mr. Franklin continued on. "Croghan really didn't want to work on the rails, but he managed to do what he can, delivering flatbeds of rails and trucks of ballast for the construction of the line. Construction of the line was just about done in 1969, with Austin designated as station pilot. About a year or two later, Max was brought over to assist Austin with the heavy shunting and moving freight and the passenger coaches about. And when 1972 came around, we officially established the Josephine Railway to the public, and it was an outstanding success."
"Whoa..." Was all Diana could say.
"Then, in the Summer of 1995, you were found by me, and you was purchased off the landowner, and taken to the Lake District National Park to be part of the Josephine Railway." Braedey finished with Diana's part of the story.
"Yeah. I was so happy to get out of that shed, but was still scared." Diana admitted.
"Well, that's a bit of history for you all." Mr. Franklin said to his fleet of engines. "You'd best get some sleep now. You have another big day ahead of you tomorrow."
With that, Mr. Franklin headed off for home, the engines soon chatting among one another, then they soon headed off to sleep.
The National Railway Museum in York. Part of the Science Museum Group. The museum tells the story of rail transport in Britain and its impact on society. It is the home of the national collection of historically significant railway vehicles such as the Mallard, the Stirling Single, Duchess of Hamilton, and the one and only Bullet Train outside of Japan. In addition, the National Railway Museum holds a diverse collection of objects from a household recipe book used in George Stephenson's house to film showing a "never stop Railway" developed for the British Empire Exhibition. It has won many awards, including the European Museum of the Year Award in 2001.
Four engines had been grouped in the museum. Oddly enough, they were all steam engines, and one from each of the Big Four railway companies of old. The first is an LMS Coronation Scot streamlined engine. The next is an old GWR City Class 4-4-0 engine. The third is an oddly shaped 0-6-0 freight tender engine of the Southern Railway. Last up is a LNER Gresley streamlined A4 with a beautiful garter blue livery.
These engines were none other than the A4 Pacific Mallard, theDuchess of Hamilton, theCity of Truro, and Bulleid the Q1, or Bull as he was known by the others. All four engines had once again sat through another day of wide-eyed visitors to the NRM, with countless photographs being taken of them. Mallard, on this particular early afternoon, was complaining to his compatriots.
"I must admit, don't people have any sense of respect nowadays?" Mallard complained. "Why, just yesterday, I had these two boys sitting on my buffers while one of their parents took a photo. Of course, I smiled and was nice, but surely, they should know how to treat engine properly."
"Oh, buck up, Mallard." City of Truro quipped in. "It was just a little harmless fun, wasn't it? It's not like they scratched your paintwork, or anything, did they? They were just kids, let them have their fun."
Mallard rolled his eyes. "I understand that, Truro. All I'm saying is that the visitors, including children, should treat us engines with respect. We were preserved for a reason, after all."
"I think you're being petty, dear." Duchess of Hamilton sniffed.
Mallard would have wheeshed steam if he could. "Petty?! Oh, petty indeed!" He scoffed.
"Yes, petty." Duchess of Hamilton continued on. "I honestly don't know what you're complaining about. It's just things that happen here. Why, I had some lovely young men and women ask me about the good old days. I was more than delighted to tell them. I was just so glad to fill their young minds with imagination of what happened during my time on the LMS. Racing through the Midlands at high speed. Euston to Glasgow! The race was the on!"
"Honestly, I have to agree with Mallard on this one." Bull interrupted. "I mean, I can't count how many times I've been called 'weird' or 'ugly' by some snot-nosed kid. You lot are lucky that you were built to look nice. I was just made with the bare essentials. Only the odd enthusiasts who actually bother to take the time to research know about how useful we were for freight."
"And don't get me started on the chain-driven valve gear with those spamcan cousins of yours, Bull." Truro groaned.
Bull was very offended. "Don't you dare call them 'spamcans', Truro! They were revolutionary Pacifics for their time!"
"Then how come some of them needed rebuilds, hmm?" Truro interjected.
"Faults could happen to any engine! And I still find your claim on 100mph to be hazy too!" Bull implied.
Truro took offence to that. "Hazy?! Why I ought to-"
"Enough!" Mallard bellowed before sighing heavily. "Now, I've regretted speaking at all. However, you all bring up valid points. So, with that in mind, I think we can agree that we are here in this very museum to teach the new generations about the ways of the railways. About our time and about the steam era in general. While I don't appreciate intrusions of some kind of my being, I understand the importance that we all carry here. In sense, we're all time capsules. Each and every one of us."
Duchess of Hamilton beamed. "Well said, darling. Well said!"
"I must admit, you do have a point, Mallard." Truro agreed.
"Yeah, I guess you're right." Bull relented as he and Truro stopped glaring at each other.
"I have to say, Mallard, that might have been the most poetic and rousing of speeches I have heard in a long time." A voice spoke out from behind them.
It was a blue Deltic diesel. But, he was no ordinary Deltic: he was the original English Electric DP1, the prototype 3,300hp demonstrator locomotive built by English Electric in 1955. He simply goes by the name of Deltic.
In March of 1961, Deltic was withdrawn after a serious powerplant failure; plans to test it in Canada fell through, and the locomotive was donated in 1963 to the Science Museum in South Kensington, placed on public display. In October of 1993, he was transferred to the National Railway Museum, and he's now part of the museum.
"Thanks for that, Deltic." Mallard called back.
At that moment, the sound of a rumbling diesel got the engine's attention. They looked over to the large doors leading out to the mainline, and they could see a brown square locomotive of sorts being pushed onto the interior turntable by a BR Class 45 diesel.
"Sorry for the intrusion, ladies and gentle-trains, but this old bag of a loco was sold off to the museum." The diesel called, Croghan fuming in anger. "So, please. Give him no end of any grief. He thinks he's better than anyone else." He added, after being uncoupled.
Croghan growled, as the BR Class 45 honked his horn, and rolled away, the doors shutting behind him. Croghan fumed in frustration, the turntable being spun around by the late-night workers, so he's now facing the other engines.
"Well, he looks like a rejected cousin of yours, Bull." Truro joked to the Bulleid Q1.
Bull chuckled. "You might be right." He laughed, the others laughing in response. "He's like a huge chocolate bar on wheels."
The other engines around the museum now laughed with one another at Croghan and what he looks like, the GT3 locomotive unable to speak out against them. He now didn't feel as powerful or superior as he did before. He remained silent for the rest of the night, and remained like that for some time.