the tales of sodor's engine

diesels and dogma

One day, Duck and Boco stopped at the big station between their trains to tell each other the news. The two had become good friends since Boco had come to the Island, even though Duck had been suspicious of him at first. The big engines had soured Duck’s feelings about diesels after one had come to the shed and tricked them, but after meeting Boco, Duck understood just how useful they could be.

    “Gordon always says how mean the diesels are on the Other Railway,” said Duck. “But you came from there and are very nice.”

    “I was lucky,” Boco replied. “Most diesels do turn mean once they fall into the hands of the mainland controllers. There’s a very strong anti-steam sentiment there. Diesels learn to hate steam engines.”

    “How awful…,” Duck said, with feeling.

    “Thankfully, I was considered non-standard and came here before I could ever be turned. I worked with many steam engines in my time and like them very much.”

    “I reckon you worked with many mean diesels, too.”

    “Oh my, yes. They are loud, brash, and filled with undue ambition. To hear one speak, you would think that railways had only ever been created so that they could roam the rails.”

    Then, Boco looked very serious.

    “But whatever you do, Duck, please be careful if you go to the Other Railway. It’s not a matter of if they’ll harass you, it’s when!”

    Duck understood what Boco meant and swore to be careful. 

The next day, Sir Topham Hatt came to see Duck, who, as it turned out, would get a chance to go to the Other Railway sooner than expected!

    “These iron girders must be inspected at the Other Railway before being taken to the mainland. Normally, I would ask James or Henry to take them, but they are busy elsewhere. I hope you don’t mind, Duck.”

    “No, sir, of course not!”

    “That’s a good engine. You will leave this afternoon and come back tomorrow morning.”

    Duck’s eyes widened.

    “B-but sir, w-what about the diesels?”

“Duck, we have had discussions about diesels already. Need I remind you, James, Henry, and Gordon of the grief you caused Boco?”

    “No sir,” Duck sighed, looking down at his buffers.

    “That’s settled then. Off you go.”

    Duck set out later that afternoon. He was very worried.

    It took a long time to reach the Other Railway. By then, it was dark and a fog had settled in. Duck placed the girders in a siding and ran around to find the engine shed. When he arrived, he was met with a chorus of growls.

    “Who is this kettle?” said a diesel.

    “You are not allowed in here,” said another.

    “If you don’t leave, we’ll place you with the scrap.”

    Duck was horrified! Before he could speak, however, another gruff voice came from behind. He was a tall, blue diesel with a mean expression.

    “Alright now, boys. Since he’s not welcome here, I’ll show him out. Come on, you.”

    Duck did as he was told and followed the diesel out of the sheds and to the sidings. Duck could still hear the growls in the background, and a shiver went up his dome.

    “Where are you taking me?” Duck asked. The diesel didn’t respond at first. When they were far enough away, Duck pulled up alongside the diesel, whose expression had changed considerably. He actually looked quite kind, like Boco.

    “I’m sorry about them,” the diesel said. “They don’t take kindly to steam engines. None of us do around here, I’m afraid.”

    Duck was astonished.

    “But…you seem to tolerate me.”

    “You aren’t all bad,” the diesel replied, smiling. “Besides, it’s nice to get away from those grouches.”

    “You don’t like them?”

    “Not very much, no. They complain all day about their axles and moan for their fitters!”

    Duck chuckled.

    “This is a surprise. But, if I may ask, what makes you different? A friend on my line says that diesels are trained to hate steam engines.”

    “Most are, yes. But I and…my brothers…never believed in all that claptrap.”

    Duck could sense the hesitation in the diesel’s voice.

    “You see, we’re non-standard diesels. We’re not like the others. We’re rejects. I hope my brothers can escape all this, wherever they are.”

    “Escape…what?” said Duck with a sense of foreboding.

    “S-scrap,” choked the diesel. “A new wave of diesels is coming soon, and when that happens we’re all done for, especially non-standard diesels like me.”

    Duck didn’t know what to say. He never once would have thought that scrap would be on the mind of a diesel. 

    “You steam engines are lucky,” he said. “Enthusiasts want to preserve you. No one cares for us. That’s why you can’t put much stock into what the other diesels say to you. They know deep down that they are just spare parts. They are purely mechanical.”

    This made Duck feel sad.

    “One day it will be better for you,” Duck said warmly.

    The diesel gave a kind smile. For the second time, Duck was reminded of Boco.

    “Don’t worry about me. I am just glad to have met you.”

    The next day, Duck returned to the big station with a lot to think about. He thought about all the diesels back in the shed on the Other Railway and realized that they were biding their time, worried to death about the future, and taking out their worry on the easiest target, steam engines, who they had been taught to hate.