Thankyou, Derek, who culled this from the Croydon U3A newsletter….

A LIVING HELL ON THE ISLAND OF SODOR – Colin Read

I went to visit Thomas the Tank Engine the other week. It was not a pretty sight. He was stuck at the back of a dingy loco shed on an obscure heritage railway in the Midlands. He was unloved and covered in cobwebs. A family of chickens had taken up residence in the firebox, and a grey squirrel was living in the chimney. Pigeons in the rafters made sure that he had a liberal sprinkling of droppings, which were piled high on his boiler. The familiar ‘face’ on the smokebox door appeared to be scowling.

‘You know what I wanted to be when I came out of Darlington loco works back in 1923?”

“Tell me” I said.

“A superb 4-6-2 Pacific express locomotive specially designed for racing up and down the East Coast Main Line between London and Edinburgh, just like Mallard and other similarly magnificent machines

I’d be finished in racing blue livery, with my name SIR THOMAS perhaps, displayed proudly on brass plates on either side. I’d give the other locos a run for their money – just you wait and see.  The engineers had other ideas. I was awakened from my reverie
when the underframe arrived at the works. A bit short I thought! Then the wheelsets – just three on either side. What’s this I thought? – surely not an 0-6-0! And no tender. I’m going to be a soddin’ tank engine!”

Sure enough, many years of pootling around the north-east followed for Thomas, hauling coal wagons, shunting sidings and acting as station pilot giving passenger trains a push, just to get them started, before he was shunted into a siding until needed again. It was certainly not what he had dreamt of.

“I mean, I couldn’t go too far”, Thomas continued, “with such a tiny coal bunker. Just menial tasks, as I’ve outlined. And as for getting to London or Edinburgh – in your dreams!” 

This was where the Rev. Awdry arrived on the scene. ‘Magnificent’ he said as he spotted Thomas languishing in some siding.

‘I must adopt you for my very own creation. Henceforth you shall be known as Thomas the Tank Engine. I shall write some books about you, describing your adventures and introduce you to other types of locomotives: some similar, some express types as well.
And I’ll introduce some carriages and humans to drive you and operate the signals. I could make quite a lot of money out of this!

“Don’t get me wrong,” Thomas continued, “the Reverend was a perfect gentleman and we got along very well, but my ambitions in life in the fast lane – or should I say fast-track – had clearly gone down the tubes, if you’ll pardon the pun – you see there’s these tubes inside my boiler – oh, never mind, what’s the use?”

Thomas went quiet for a bit.

“So Awdry took me under his wing, had me painted light blue, with a big cheesy grin on my smokebox door, would you believe?

What could I do about it? Then the children’s books started. Thomas and this. Thomas and that, Thomas and this (here, say that quickly and it sounds like rail joints!) The kids snapped them up like hot cakes.

Ornaments followed. Toys, souvenirs, Thomas train sets, even Thomas bubble-bath holders. then television rights. When that got going Ivor the Engine wasn’t in it! You name it – it had my face on it!

And did I get anything out of it? – a nice polish up, regular oiling or a nice batch of good Welsh steam coal – did I? – fairy cakes!

Awdry eventually sold the rights to another company, but that’s another story and I – unloved and unwanted – was flogged off to a heritage railway.

Here I sit in this lousy old leaky shed – pushing 100 years of age. The cold does nothing for my rheumatism. I don’t suppose you could get me a tarpaulin or give my motion a quick oil-up?”

So, I did what I could for Thomas. He was very grateful and, as Ieft the shed, did I detect a tear in his massive painted eye, or was it just a trick of the light?