Warning: The following adaptation you are about to witness and read, contains various swears along with violent actions, and religious beliefs within the storyline. If you aren’t of age 12 and above, then you are not allowed to read this story, viewer discretion is advised.
Prolouge: Barrow-In-Furness: October 1958
As some railway enthusiasts of the British lands had always said, steam powered locomotives have always been “the” prior to famous railways, ever since the completion of the very first locomotive known as, The Rocket. From then on, the creator of this popular legacy, Robert Stephenson, took pride in this successful opportunity, and promised to people that this new brand of technology, would become the new age of modern day life. I’m sorry to say, but that legacy soon became a loss cause. A new era came into view when local man, Rudolf Diesel, brought forward the new future of engine, as he along with many others with the use of an electric motor, created as his name implied, the Diesel locomotive. Sadly though, he was never alive to see his creation due to his disappearance and death in September of 1913. Throughout this moment in time though, enthusiasts treated the Diesel as like, The Rocket, when he was first built, a new generation in modern day life. Eventually, it was proven to the point, that steam was coming to an end, it was said once, yes, but it wasn't by any person or anyone, but by a diesel himself, which made a futile mistake one peaceful autumn evening in 1958. The North Western Railway has always had a midnight goods run from Brendam to Barrow since 1935 when the first fish run, known as, the Flying Kipper, became a failed sight. Since then, the fish trains were canceled off, and was replaced with a slow stopping goods train heading to Barrow for the past two decades. Now normally, the NWR’s No. 3 was assigned to do this evening journey, however he was scheduled for a new boiler installation during the months of October and November. So in the meantime, the controller at the time, Sir Richard Topham Hatt, assigned his No. 5, known as James, to these jobs as a temporary predecessor. James didn’t mind this sort of job, admittingly, what really give him a fright was the sight of the various Diesel engines that prowl around the stations at night. This had been a phobia to him after a ever since a BR Class 08 Shunter named, Diesel, visited not long ago, and had told lies and misdeeds about not only the North Western’s No. 3, but also, their No. 8. known as, Duck, as well. Since then, he always had a cold feeling deep within his boiler, thinking that this was the end of his life and that he and his friends and allies would certainly be doomed.
That was, until the evening of 1958, as I have mentioned, came around, and James was finishing up his final delivery to the yards behind Barrow-In-Furness, and like always, he’d still feared what might happen, as he came to a stop next to a workshop, looking left and right, making sure no diesel was around to give him trouble, and the workmen began to unload his goods. “Alright then, let's just get this over with.” Quivered James. “Well then, come on driver, hurry up, you and the fireman help other men quickly so we can get out of here before anybody shows up.” The Driver was a bit aghast by James tone, at first, but then soothed himself. “Slow your role there, James, we can’t just leave now, we’ve got a return train to arrange and take back with us, just stay where you are and we’ll arrange for you soon.”
After seeing him disappear behind the trucks, James could only fear the most from him and anything in sight of him. Five minutes passed since then, and right before it was close to being ten minutes, James heard the dreaded sound he’d feared the most. He’d looked ahead to his sights and saw rolling up towards him was a British Rail Class 40, painted in British green with yellow lining and his number labeled, D261, on both sides of him. The Diesel eyed up and looked ahead to see James resting while the men continued to unload his goods. Feel rather cheeky yet in a rather devious way, the Diesel slowed to a stop a few yards close to James, eyeing him and his situation which beseeched him. “Oh no, we're too late.” James said under his breath. “Oh, well hello there, Rusty Red Scrap Iron,” The Diesel began, James was taken aback this, the only engine that ever said that aside from the trucks, was Diesel himself. As suspected, he must’ve told his story to the engines when he’d returned to his old railway. Not knowing what to say next, James continued to hear what the Diesel might have to say next.
“You know old chap,” The Diesel began. “I heard from one of my allies that a certain diesel visited your railway, and how badly you and those teapot treated him, in fact, come to think of it, all the diesels have been talking about you.” James gulped at the thought, while still trying to maintain himself. “I...I know.” “Best not to get confident not you red sod, we’ll be taking over your railway any day now, you just wait and see.” Continued the Diesel. James taking a deep breath looked as his buffers guilt fully like, walst talking to himself quietly. “They aren’t all bad, Edward says they aren’t all bad.” He said to himself while mentioning the North Western’s No. 2. “Edward?” Questioned the Diesel. “Who, might I ask, is Edward.” James knowing he said too much tried to make something up, but admittingly told the truth. “Um, he’s...a friend of mine.” “Well then, let me tell you this teapot, we’re going to replace your, Edward, he’ll be scrapped real soon.” “No, no he won’t.” Began James trying to feel confident. “He would never be scrapped, the Fat Controller wouldn’t even dare to...” “It isn’t about your Fat Controller,” Interrupted the Diesel. “It’s about us Diesels, we take over, and we always do.” Not realizing what would happen soon, but but D261 was mere seconds away from blowing James’ smokestack, walst he on the other hand was trying to relax. “Keep your cool James, keep your cool.” “And who’s that big green engine who comes around here every once in awhile, we’ll get him too.” As the Diesel continued to banter on, James could feel a bit of him ready to explode, he felt the sweat dripping from his face, his teeth grinding, and if this were or weren’t possible, his heart pounding faster every half second. Within the mere minute, he was not only giving into his hatred to Diesels, but was almost ready to snap.
“And that big blue waste of metal whose always blowing steam around our station, all of your friends, we're gonna send them all to the...” Then, it happen. “THAT..IS..IT!!” The Diesel jumped back a few yards after getting surprised by James’ remark. “THAT’S RIGHT, YOU HEARD ME WELL YOU DAMN OILER, NOW LISTEN HERE AND LISTEN GOOD,” Continued James. “I’M NOW GETTING SICK AND TIRED OF YOU AND YOUR SON OF A BITCH BASTARD FRIENDS, EVERY NIGHT WHEN I’M OUT ON THE MIDNIGHT GOODS RUN, ONE OF YOU JUST LIKES TO COME TO HERE AT THIS TIME OF NIGHT, AND RUBS YOUR BOASTFULNESS IN MY FACE BY THREATENING ONE OF MY FRIENDS!!! WELL I’M SICK OF IT, I’M F**KING SICK OF ALL OF IT! YOU ALL ARE JUST LIKE THE NAZIS DURING WORLD WORLD II, AND HOW THEY INVADED PARTS OF WORLD BY TAKING OVER THEIR COUNTRIES, WELL I MYSELF AM NOT GONNA STAND BY WHEN YOU DO THAT YOU..YOU SON OF A BITCH NAZIS LOVING DIESEL LIKE A**HOLES!!”
The Diesel was obscured by James’ insult, he began to growl in a angry like expression as he rolled furiously toward him with a comeback. “Watch what your saying you...” “GET BACK!” Interrupted James. “GET BACK I SAY, I GAVE YOU A CHANCE, I’VE GAVE YOU ALL A DAMN CHANCE, EDWARD SAYS YOU’RE NOT ALL BAD, BUT YOU JUST THREATEN TO SCRAP HIM, AND I NEVER IN ALL MY LIFE HAVE EVER MET A GOOD ONE OF YOU LOT, GET OUT OF HERE YOU PIECE OF S**T, GET OUT, GET OUT YOU DAMN SCUM OF THE RAILWAY, DIRTY DIESEL, YOU DAMN..DIRTY..DIESELS!!” Breathing heavily after the engine left, James knew his reply was clear and blunt, for a new era had changed in his life. He still was boastful, yes, but with the threat he had unleashed, he knew he would’ve never been the same again. Five minutes later when his driver got back, and had arranged his return goods journey home, they set off ten minutes later. What he didn’t know as they left, James had woken up a numerous amount of people who they called the police on, but when they arrived on the scene it was too late as they already had been gone. Although James thought he was in the clear, his situation went from bad to either good or worst, as one of the people he had woken was a reporter for the daily newspaper, who actually was up all night trying to work on an article for a new story, and when hearing James’ remarks against the Diesel, he admittedly began furiously typing. When his story was finished, it was immediately published like wildfire. Railway enthusiasts, sports teams, men, women, children, even people in local bars all read this thrilling story, some were either happy, shocked, disbelief, concerned, or horrified at what they a had seen. For at that moment in time, it wasn’t just the people's concern whether they should be a fan of either side, but to the engines, to them, it was only just the beginning between the war, against Steam and Diesel kind.