FOR ENGLAND.

Star (Christchurch), Volume LXIV, Issue 833, 5 August 1933, Page 18 (Supplement)

FOR ENGLAND.

No. 27 was a bright, new engine, so new and good that it was only used for fast trains. Time went on and 27 looked a little old-fashioned, but it was still a fine, strong engine. It always had the same driver, Michael Flynn— Old Mike, as he was called. No. 27 was kept at the junction when it was not running. Old Mike used to say that it “ slept ” there, and perhaps it did.

Old Mike lived at the junction, too, because sometimes he had to drive the

night express. At one time he had lived alone, but now his grandson, Jimmy, lived with him. Jimmy was nine years old, and his father was a soldier in India, where it is so hot that little boys can’t live there for long. When Old Mike was off duty he used to play with Jimmy, and their best game was trains. Jimmy had got a tin engine, but as he didn't have much pocket money, his carriages and trucks were made of matchboxes coupled together with bits of wire, and with buttons for wheels. His grandfather made him some cardboard bridges and signal boxes and signals that worked when you pulled a string, and they used to sit on the floor and play together.

Jimmy used to shout, “All aboard for the Scotch express! ” and then he waved a red flag and blew his whistle, and Old Mike started the engine and off they went. They had to “ pretend ” the passengers, but they played goods trains, they put real coal in the trucks, and it was a fine game! Jimmy was very proud of his engirfe, which had a little spirit lamp and a boiler, and went by real steam. Every real railway engine has a number painted on its side, and Jimmy’s engine had a number, too. And, of course, it was No. 27.

In course of time Jimmy’s engine wore out, and although Mike still drove No. 27, it was not used for fast trains now. One year the company bought twelve American engines, and some of the drivers turned up their noses at old No. 27. But not Mike! Time went on and the American engines wore out and were sold as scrap iron—but No. 27 was still running. It had been made in an English shop by Englishmen who loved their work, and had put their hearts into it. But nothing can last for ever, and there came a time when 27 was marked “ G.T.0.” (Goods Traffic Only) on the engine list. Never more would it carry passengers! Then one day the chief engineer saw 27, and said: “Worn out!” So 27 stood idle, and Old Mike, who was really old now, was given a cleaner’s job in the engine sheds. But once a week he stayed late and cleaned up the old engine. “ I’m not going to see it rust its heart out,” he said; and the other cleaners looked at each other—but they didn’t laugh, for they knew that Old Mike had grown to love his engine just as you might get to love a horse or a dog. Then came the Great War. All the engines were hard at work all day and all night carrying soldiers and guns. One evening the stationmaster at the -'unction had a long telegram from the War Office, and he called out: “ Smith, what engines are in the sheds ? ” “None,” said Smith. “What? Not one?” “ No—except old 27.” “What’s that?” asked the stationmaster, who had not been at the junction long; and Smith told him. “ Let’s have a look at it,” said the stationmaster, and* they went down to the sheds, and there was Old 27—and an old man was oiling it. “ What is he cleaning it for, if it’s worn out?” asked the stationmaster. “ It isn’t,” said the old man, looking round, “ and, anyway, I used to drive it, and I’m not going to see it go rusty.” The stationmaster stared at him for a moment, and then he said: “Could it run for a hundred miles?” “ Yes,” said Mike. “ The drivers are all out,” said Smith. “ There’s me,” said Mike. “What about a fireman?” asked the stationmaster. For all the young men had gone to fight for England, or were hard at work making guns and shells. “ I could get my grandson,” Said Mike. Then the stationmaster showed Mike the telegram, which said: “Bombs must reach Dover by midnight cer tain." and Mike said : “ We can do it.” Then he hurried off to his lodgings and fetched Jimmy, who was fifteen

now and big and strong for his age, and they coaled and watered Old 27 between them, and then stoked up. And at last the old engine was once more on the line with two trucks fastened on behind. And the trucks were full of something covered with canvas. Mike’s eyes were shining with joy and excitement, and Jimmy was shovelling coal as fast as possible when the stationmaster waved his flag and called out: “ Right away! Go slow—you know what’s behind! ” - Then 27 steamed slowly out of the station into the darkness. Sh ! Sh! Sh ! Sh ! Sh ! Gradually they got up speed till at last they were doing thirty miles a,n hour. Then suddenly Mike gave a warning whistle and shut off steam. A signal was at danger. He put on the brakes and they stopped. For nearly an hour they were held up, and then at last the line was signalled clear. Off they went again, Mike looking anxiously at the clock in the engine-cab.” “Shall we do it?” asked Jimmy. “ Not unless we go at full speed,” said Mike. “ It’s all dear now, and we can’t hurt anyone else. But if we jump the line it’s all U.P. with us. Those trucks are full of bombs! ” “ What! Real bombs?” cried Jimmy. “ Yes.” said Mike. “ For our soldiers. Shall we go slow and be safe, or go full speed and risk it?” “Risk it!” said Jimmy “It's for England.” “Right!" said Mike, and he put on full steam, whilst Jimmy shovelled coal till the perspiration poured down his face. Mike’s eyes kept moving from the clock to the speed gauge, and every few minutes he cried out: “ More steam! Shovel for your life! ” And Jimmy shovelled away ■with all his might. “ Only ten minutes left and eight miles to go! ” roared Mike. “ Stoke up!” But Jimmy was so tired he could hardly lift the shovel, so Mike cried: “ Watch the gauge and keep calling out the speed,” and he snatched the shovel and worked like a madman. “ Fifty!” yelled Jimmy above the roar of the train. Mike went on shovelling and the engine seemed to leap forward. “ Fifty-five fifty-seven fifty-nine—-sixty! ” Then Mike dropped the shovel and stared out of his little window with his hand on the throttle, and presently he began to slow down. And at one minute to twelve Old 27 steamed into Dover Station, bringing the bombs which were to save English soldiers’ lives and help to win the war!