Sodor's Winter Blues

Sodor’s Winter Blues

Wintertime on Sodor is always very exciting for everyone, especially the engines on the Fat Controller’s railway. It’s a time when more people come to Sodor to visit relatives or do Christmas shopping. There is also a greater demand in fuel, both for the railway and for people to use in their homes, as well as delivering manufactured goods from factories for Christmas presents. This means more trains for the engine to run, and they often find themselves worn out after a hard day’s work. However, the engines don’t complain. They love this time of year, for they know it is Christmas, and that means the Fat Controller’s annual Christmas party for the railway at the station. It is a very special time for the engines as well, as there are carols, lights and a special Christmas tree in the middle of the shed.

One day, the Fat Controller came to the sheds as the engines where getting ready for a hard day’s work. “I have some important news”, he said, “There is an urgent need of fuel on the island. The weather has meant that shipping fuel to Sodor has become difficult and dangerous, due to icebergs floating in the Irish Sea, and it’s only a matter of time before the weather puts a halt on traffic over the bridge at Vicarstown. So I am running special good trains from Barrow to Sodor with trucks of oil and coal. The heavy snow isn’t due for another few days, but until then we are all going to have to help ship the fuel waiting for us. So”, he said, looking hard at the engines, “Murdoch, Donald and Douglas are to run the first shipment early tomorrow. After them it’s Gordon, Henry and James..”. James and Gordon groaned, “…and then”, continued the Fat Controller, “it’s Emily, Boco and Molly to deliver the final load. After that, we’ll have to buckle under and do the best we can with what fuel we’ve got. Also, as it has been snowing heavily in some places, you will all need to wear your snowploughs,” Thomas groaned, “Even you Thomas”, said the Fat Controller sternly, “Right, you have your orders for the day, so goodbye, and good luck”. He walked away. “I can’t believe this”, huffed Gordon, “Me, an express engine, pulling trucks of fuel? It’s outrageous!”. “That’s nothing, I hate snowploughs”, said Thomas crossly, “They’re heavy and uncomfortable”. “But they’re necessary”, said Edward, “I’m actually glad that we’re all getting snowploughs, the less snow there is on the line, the better for us engines”. “Well”, said Duck, “We’d better get to work, we can’t let the passengers down, especially not as it’s coming close to Christmas. I suspect the news of the bridge being out of action will make the work harder for us, but that’s what we’re here for”. The engines agreed, and they set off to work one by one.

The Fat Controller had been right about the snow. It began falling lightly, but collected in large areas, making some snowdrifts harder to get through than others. It was just lucky that Donald and Douglas were on snowploughing duties that day, clearing the line before the other engines got there. However, the weather still causing problems, freezing points so that some engines accidentally went on the wrong lines. At one point, Gordon nearly crashed into Emily, who was coming the opposite way with a train of coal trucks behind her normal passenger train. It was just lucky that the Fat Controller had imposed a speed limit on certain trains, routes and engines.

Duck had also been right about heavier trains. The news of the bridge had caused a frenzy among the people of Sodor, who seemed desperate to make the journeys to the Mainland as soon as possible. There was so much demand for extra seats that some goods trains had some carriages coupled to the back to move as much people as possible. All in all, the work on Sodor had become slow, difficult and dangerous.

The next day, Murdoch, Donald and Douglas had to take the first fuel train from Barrow, across the bridge at Vicarstown and then on to Tidmouth, stopping at major stations and towns to drop off fuel. By the time they returned to the sheds, they were tired, cold and longing for peace and quiet. But they found out that this wasn’t to be. As they entered the shed doors, they found all the engines arguing crossly. “What’s going on”, asked Murdoch, who hated loud noises. “The Fat Controller said that due to the fuel shortage, we have to cancel the Christmas Party”, said Henry sadly. “Why?, asked Donald “Because the bridge is frozen up, which means that our Christmas Tree won’t be able to come through, and all other trees have already been bought up on Sodor”, said Emily, “And the members of the Railway Board have decided that in order to keep the railway running, we should be working as much as possible and abandon the party, which they believe to be ‘a waste of company time’”, huffed Thomas crossly. “But they can’t do that”, protested Douglas, “We’ve worked hard all year, we deserve at least this”. “I heard the Fat Controller say he was going to have a meeting with the Railway Board tomorrow”, said Oliver grimly, “So we may be in with a chance”. “I suppose you’re right” huffed Henry, “Let’s just go to sleep, we have a lot of work to do tomorrow, especially me, Gordon and James”. “Yes, good luck for tomorrow Gordon and James”, said Rosie cheerfully to the two big engines. “Whatever”, they said in unison.

The next morning, both Gordon and James were less than enthusiastic about doing the fuel run, but after much coaxing from their crews and the other engines, they reluctantly steamed to the water tower, where they naturally took as long as possible. By the time they reached Vicarstown, Henry was already steaming back in the opposite direction with a train of coal hoppers! Meanwhile, moods were high on the rest of the railway. Percy was less than gentle when handling the trucks in the yards. Thomas roughly handled the coaches on his branch line. Even Edward was in a bad mood, bumping the trucks and not helping Bill and Ben at the quarry. Later that day, Rosie had to take a rake of empty trucks to the quarry. Diesel was there, along with Mavis, Arry and Bert. “I hear you steam engines are having a fuel problem”, he said in an oily voice. Rosie ignored him. “Such a shame that you’re not diesel engine, then you’d have no need to worry about suffering through this cold winter”. “You’re so full of grease diesel!”, snapped Rosie, “Just because we need coal and not diesel oil doesn’t make us any less fast, powerful or useful than diesels”. Diesel smirked, but Mavis cut in before he could say anything. “Ignore him Rosie, he’s just upset at not being able to go to the Christmas Party. We all are, but we shouldn’t let this get in the way of our friendship, or work”, she finished, glaring at the other diesels.

That night when Gordon, James and Henry returned to the sheds, all the engines were in a bad mood. No one spoke to each other. To make matters worse, the Fat Controller arrived to tell them that the members of the Railway Board hadn’t yet reached a decision about whether or not to let the engines have a party. “They have promised a definite answer by tomorrow”, said the Fat Controller, “But for now, we’ll all just have to keep thinking positive and hope for the best”. He looked back as he left through the big doors to the shed. “I have never in all my years as a railwayman experienced anything so bad. It is a shame that this should happen, especially so close to Christmas, but there are people on Sodor and the Mainland who rely and depend upon us to make them happy this year”. The engines said nothing, so the Fat Controller walked slowly out of the door, shutting it slowly and carefully behind him.

The turntable at Tidmouth is special because is can be turned mechanically using steam from an engine’s boiler using a special hose connected to the engine’s brake pipe. Most of the time, it is usable, but in exceptionally cold weather, the water left in it by steam passing through it freezes, causing the engine to be out of use until it is unfrozen. The next morning, it was Emily, Boco and Molly’s turn to collect fuel. Molly’s fireman was ill that day, so she and her driver had to it until a reserve fireman arrived. By the time he did, Emily and Boco had already left. To make matters worse, they had to use a new type of coal the Fat Controller had sent around to help with the fuel problems. It was extremely difficult to light and took even longer to make steam. By the time they had steam up, they were running very late. Molly moved slowly forwards onto the turntable, and as her fireman connected the steam hose to Molly’s brake pipe, the driver got ready to send steam through into the turntable. He pulled the lever. Nothing happened. “I guess it must have frozen”, said Molly’s driver glumly, “Blast it. If we hadn’t taken so long to get steam up, we could have left before it had the chance to freeze”. “Sorry boss”, said the new fireman sadly. “It’s not your fault lad”, said the driver comfortingly, “But it means we’ll be later still until it unfreezes.

Percy was busy shunting in the yard. He was feeling slightly better about the party, at least shunting heavy goods trucks would take his mind of it. It felt very cold, and Percy shivered. “I wish I had a scarf”, he moaned. His driver laughed. “You don’t want a repeat of last time you wanted a scarf do you?”. Percy chuckled, but then his teeth started chattering as he shivered again. He could feel a strong cold wind, and something soft land on his roof. It had begun to snow. Not much at first, but 10 minutes later, the ground was nearly covered, and the cold whipped the snow up in blizzards. “I hope Molly, Emily and Boco will be alright”, shivered Percy.

He was wrong. The snow was heavy at Vicarstown, so heavy that they had to wait until Douglas, who was stationed there for ploughing duties to run ahead of them to clear the line ahead. At last, they arrived in Barrow Yard. Their line of trucks were waiting in line beside some fierce looking diesel shunters. A few of them looked at Emily, with looks on their faces that hinted a desire to take her to a scrap yard, but after a menacing growl from Boco, they scuttled away, and allowed Boco and Emily to couple to their trains in peace. It was difficult to get the heavy trains started, but once they were out of the yard, they were both running slowly but surely along the track. Molly arrived at Vicarstown yard panting. She had had to steam quickly all the way from Tidmouth to make up for lost time. She had to stop at Vicarstown to wait for a signal. The snow was beginning to fall more heavily, and Molly shivered as it grew colder and colder, despite the warmth of her fire. Eventually, she saw a train emerge from the other side of the bridge. I was Emily, followed closely by Boco. As they came into the yard, Molly whistled, and her Emily reply. “How is it going to far?”, asked Molly. “Very cold, very heavy and very slow”, said Emily through chattering teeth, “And also those diesels in Barrow were giving us hassle, but we’re here now. You’d better go Molly, the snow’s getting worse”. “It’s lucky you have your snowplough on Molly, both of ours are being serviced”, said Boco, “I expect we’ll have to get Douglas to pilot our train back to Tidmout”. “I suppose”, said Molly glumly. If Douglas wasn’t there and she got stuck, it would take a long time for help to get to her. “Right then, we’ll see you back at the sheds the Molly”, said Emily, trying to make Molly feel better about going through the snow. Molly whistled a farewell, and made her way across the bridge, while Emily and Boco stolidly made their way back to the sheds.

Molly reached the yard at Barrow, and found her train easily. She was coupled up, and was waiting for the signal to change to green, when she saw that a diesel shunter had deliberately placed a tar wagon on the points leading to the bridge in her way. By the time she had been uncoupled, pushed the truck into another siding, reversed and been coupled up again, she was very late indeed.

Emily and Boco had since parked their trucks at Tidmouth and taken on coal, water and diesel oil. They returned to the sheds to find the others arguing again. “He’ll never have persuaded them!”, declared James. “Rubbish!”, replied Thomas crossly, “The Fat Controller has always come through for us!”. “What’s going on?”, asked Boco. “James doesn’t think the Fat Controller will persuade the Railway Board to let us have a party”, said Henry, “And we’re all saying that he will, and that he’s never let us down yet”, he finished, looking at James. “I’m telling you”, said James defensively, “He won’t get us permission, so we may as well say ‘bye-bye’ to Christmas this year!”. “Silence”, came a voice from the front of the shed. The others fell silent. It was the station master. “Molly has become stuck in snow near Crovan’s Gate”, he announced. “We’ve alerted the Work there, but their snowplough is broken, so we need volunteers to get through the snow and rescue her!”. “We’ll do it!”, said Donald and Douglas together. “I’ll come to”, said Murdoch, I’ll help bring her trucks back”. “Count me in”, said Thomas, “I’ll pull some workmen in Annie and Clarabel”. “But you hate snow?”, said Henry puzzled. “But it’s Christmas, and Molly’s stuck, so we have to”, said Thomas. “I agree”, said Gordon, “I’ll join, you’ll need a strong engine to push you through the snow”. The others sighed exasperatedly. “Me and Henry can help to push as help”, piped up Edward. “What can I do?”, asked Percy. “You and Toby can bring some coal trucks in case we need to refuel halfway through”, suggested Edward. “Right, that’s nearly all of you”, said the Station Master, “Except James”. They all looked at the vain red engine. “Well, I don’t really see anything I can do”, said James decidedly, as though the matter was settled. “But you can still come though, it’s not fair otherwise”, said Gordon. “Oh sleepers and ballast”, grunted James crossly.

Soon, all the engines had got ready. Donald, Douglas. Murdoch and Gordon, with Edward and Henry close behind had got behind a massive van with a snowplough mounted on the front. Thomas was behind them with Annie and Clarabel filled with strong workmen, and a tool van behind them filled with shovels and spades. Toby and Percy were behind, hauling a few hoppers of coal in case of emergency, and James was behind them, grumbling heatedly. They had eventually decided that he could pull Rocky which would at least give him something to do, but that didn’t stop him moaning at all. “Right, are we ready?”, called Gordon from the front. The engine responded with a whistle, except for James, so Rocky whistled for him. “Right, let’s go and save Molly”, called Gordon. With a cheer, the engines pounded out of the station, the snow of the track easily lifting as the great snowplough split into it and tossed it aside as they steamed towards Crovan’s Gate and Molly.

Molly was freezing. Her snowplough had bent under the weight of the snow, and she had stuck fast. Her fireman had tried to shovel away some of the snow, and her driver had tired using steam to get rid of it, but as much as they shovelled and blew away, more came down and settled. Molly felt like bursting into tears. She was cold, all alone and it was nearly Christmas. She sighed sadly, and blew a small, sad note on her whistle. She froze, listening intently. She could have sworn she heard a reply. “Must have been the wind”, she said to herself. But she thought about trying it again, just to make sure. She blew another note, longer, and louder than before. This time, she definitely heard a reply, far away it seemed, but getting closer all the while. “I wonder”, she thought. Then she saw lights appear on the horizon. She knew what it was immediately, and whistled urgently. “Over here!”, she called into the night, “We’re over here!”. “Molly”, called her driver over the noise she was making, “What are you doing?”. “The others, the others are over there, they’ve come to rescue us!”, called Molly, really crying this time, but tears of joy, and she whistled louder as the massive bulk of Gordon, Murdoch, Donald and Douglas with the other engines behind emerged into view.

It took a while to get Molly out of the snow. Gorodn, Donald, Douglas and Murdoch had to carry on and find a turntable to turn around for the journey back. The workmen in Annie and Clarabel jumped down and after fetching big shovels from the tool van, started digging into the deep snow, spreading a sand-like thing they called freezing salts onto the track so the snow would melt quicker and the tracks wouldn’t freeze. It turned out that a few wagons had been derailed, so James was forced to bring Rocky around to lift them back onto the track. Eventually, the derailed wagons were lifted back onto the line, and Gordon came back to pull Molly out of the snowdrift. It was difficult, but Gordon’s great strength made it possible, and soon Molly was out of the snowdrift, and after a while of getting back into line, they all set off for home and warmth.

“Shame we still don’t get a party”, said Molly when the lights of Tidmouth town came into view. There was silence from the other engines. “You know what”, said Gordon after a while, “We’ve had such a fun time doing all this, I’m not really that fussed anymore. I mean, yes it would have been nice to have a party, but it’s like the Fat Controller said, people depend upon us to help. I think the knowledge that we’ve done so much good for people getting this fuel from Barrow is better than any Christmas party”. “That’s a pretty good point”, said Thomas thoughtfully, “It does make me feel happy to know that”. The other engines agreed, but they had arrived at the yard now. Donald and Douglas helped Molly into the sheds, her fire had gone out. Henry pushed the coal trucks into a siding, James pushed Rocky into his siding, and Thomas put Annie and Clarabel into the carriage sheds. Then, quietly, they all took turns on the turntable before entering the warmth of Tidmouth Sheds. “What the…!”m gasped Henry. The shed had been decorated with paper chains from door to door. Coloured lights hung from the ceiling, and in the middle of the shed, a tall, majestic Christmas tree, decorated with tinsel, baubles and more lights stood before the gaping engines. “What is all this?”, squealed James. “Merry Christmas!”, said a voice from the other side of the shed. The engines all gasped. There before them was the Fat Controller, He had taken off his suit and top hat and now donned a Father Christmas outfit. “The members of the Railway Board were less than thrilled to give us permission to have a party”, he boomed happily, “But they were out-voted by the people of Sodor and Barrow. Apparently, they’re so grateful for the service you’ve been giving them despite these terrible few days, they decided to give you a party whether the Board liked it or not”. “I knew you’d come through for us sir”, beamed James. The others stared at James in wonder. “Don’t thank me”, said the Fat Controller, “Thank your passengers, they wanted you to have a party. Now, I think we’ve kept them waiting long enough. Ladies, gentlemen, children and engines. May I introduce, kindly performing for free despite the cold weather, the Tidmouth Church Choir, opening our party with the all time favourite, ‘Jingle Bells!”. The engines looked around in puzzlement, then they saw that a small stage had been set up on a flat truck in a corner of the shed, and a number of smartly dressed people stood on it, clutching little piece of paper with the words to the songs written on them. The choir sang, and the engine crews sand too, and even the engines joined in with their whistles. The carollers continued long into the night, and all the engines agreed that it had been a truly wonderful Christmas.