The Sudrians: Great Western Collection

Line of Sight

September 1979

The Little Western was a beautiful place and Duck loved it very much. The sights were always stunning with old fishing ports, sandy beaches and the sea sparkling in the sun with the Isle of Man nearby.

One day, Duck was taking a goods train from the harbour to Tidmouth, where another engine would take the trucks the rest of the way to other areas on Sodor. He was pleased by this and trundled peacefully along the line, the trucks causing him no bother whatsoever.

Duck thought it would be a peaceful run, but when entering the harbour, it went south very quickly. As the Great Western engine puffed into the harbour, he looked to the signal above. Duck looked closely at it carefully, he narrowed his eyes to see whether it was green or red, but he couldn't know which. He slowed his puffing, not wanting to stop in case it was green, but when he got close enough to see clearly, it was up, meaning red. The Great Western engine braked hard, the trucks banged into each other and Duck went past the signal only for a short few yards.

"Woah boy!" called his driver, "what are you doing?"

Duck was slightly shocked by what happened, he reversed carefully back behind the signal, feeling embarrassed by the whole incident, one of the harbour engines rushed by with a few trucks heading to the isolated corners of the harbour and Duck was soon allowed to proceed, but now had a heavy mind.

He blinked constantly, as he stopped in the yards. Duck looked around carefully, he was cut off by a booming whistle and I came up alongside the Great Western engine. "Morning Montague," I greeted warmly, "how are you doing this fine start to the day?"

"Oh erm... very nice thank you," Duck replied, putting on a fake smile, "very well--yes... please excuse me, Manor, I must go to the depot to rest and refuel."

Duck then quickly rushed off, leaving me puzzled, the Great Western engine was very cheerful when I greet him, but right now, this was the first time I had seen him distracted and dismissive of me. I pondered what this could mean, but was soon called away to pull another enthusiast train.

***

Duck rested, with eyes closed, next to one of the water towers at the depot where the old sheds use to lay. A few other engines were there, both having a conversation, but Duck tried to ignore them, focusing on calming himself and rest his eyes.

"Montague."

Bolting his eyes open, Duck looked down to see Stephen, his arms folded and looking up at the Great Western engine with a stern face. "Mr Barns said that he saw you from his signal box overrunning a signal at the junction between the Great Western line and the harbour line. Is this true?"

Duck gulped but put on a brave and sincere face. "I am incredibly sorry sir," he said guilty, "I just wasn't focused enough."

Stephen shook his head. "That's not like you, Montague," he said, "I expect you of all engines not to run past signals. I'll let you off with a warning, but please be more careful, otherwise... the consequences will be dire."

"Yes sir," Duck replied, looking at his buffers, "I promise you, sir, it won't happen again."

Stephen nodded, he spoke to the crew for a brief moment and then began to walk away. Duck said nothing, he just stared on after Stephen as he walked to his car, his eyes squinted hard. He narrowed his eyes, then blinked a couple of times, then tried squinting again. But then he quickly stopped when a familiar red engine puffed up next to him.

"Hello Duck," greeted James, with a smirk on his face, "did I just here Stephen telling you not overrun a red signal?"

"Anyone can make that mistake," said Duck, his cheeks going red with embarrassment, "you've done it before, remember?"