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Nobody likes being a middle engine. With trucks in front and trucks behind, it’s very difficult to see where you’re going, and even harder to handle them. Sonny works at the Coaling Plant, and is a very old engine. He can’t go all the way to Barrow for the coal deliveries, so Donald and Donald bring it to Suddery for him. Steam had just been reinstated, so there were a lot of deliveries that couldn’t be taken. Donald puffed into Barrow, smiling at Boston and Marley.
“Peep! Peep!” Donald whistled. “Hullo!”
“Toot! Toot!” Marley tooted. “Hello, Donald.”
“Where’s ma train for this run?” Donald wondered.
“It’s over there, in the fifth siding.” Boston explained. Donald was shocked. There were lots of trucks, filled to the brim with coal.
“Why’s there so much of it?” Donald asked.
“With the ban in place, Sodor didn’t have much use for it.” Marley explained. “Bear had to move most of the goods himself.”
“Aye, he did.” Donald mournfully remembered. The large diesel was having a nice long rest at the Engine Works, after a long while of hard work. Donald backed onto the train of coal trucks, surrounding by chattering and giggling trucks.
Just then, an idea flew into Donald’s funnel.
“Why not couple the next train onto my front?” Donald offered. “It would get two trains out of the way.” He explained. His driver wasn’t so sure.
“It would make you a middle engine. It could be dangerous.” His driver reminded.
“Aye, I know. But if we take these loads one at a time, we’ll be going back and forth forever.” Donald reasoned. His driver had to agree with Donald, and went to speak with the yard’s manager. The yard’s manager agreed, and called ahead to let the signalmen know that Donald would be a middle engine.
“Are you certain this is a good idea?” Marley wondered, as she shunted trucks full of scrap metal in front of him.
“I know it’s dangerous, but we need to move lots of trucks if this place is gonna be clean soon.” Donald admitted. Even Boston had to agree with Donald’s logic, even if it was fraught with danger.
“At least take an extra brake van on front.” Boston requested, as the trucks were coupled on. It sounded smart, so Donald allowed it. Before long, Donald was able to set out.
Soon after, Donald puffed through Vicarstown. The people on the platform were surprised. Before they saw Donald in the middle, they thought that some trucks had broken away, and rushed to tell the station manager. Molly was waiting, and called to Donald.
“What’re you doing?” Molly whistled.
“Making up for lost time!” Donald called. Molly hadn’t seen an engine in the middle of a train before, and thought it looked bad. Donald couldn’t see that Molly was cleared to go ahead.
“Peep! Peep!” Molly whistled. “Donald, stop!” Donald and his two guards applied their brakes, barely stopping before the points.
“Thanks for the spotting, Molly!” Donald whistled, stopped at the platform. The two guards and his driver got off, and began to make a plan. The guard up front would wave a red flag if he saw a red signal, and that would mean that Donald had to apply his brakes. They thought it was a very good idea, and got the final details ironed out as Molly left the station.
Donald left shortly after Molly, puffing down the main line. It was shaping up to be a splendid day, with the sun shining and just enough clouds to keep you protected. The guard in front smiled, relaxing with a nice cup of tea. But there was trouble ahead at Crovan’s Gate. Arthur was waiting at the platform for his guard’s whistle, and Donald was to stop and allow Arthur to take a train of passengers down his branch line. A man stood on the platform edge, holding up a red flag to signal that they were waiting. He was expecting to see Donald coming down the line, but when he saw a brake van, he waved his red flag frantically. The guard on front of Donald’s train did the same, and Donald applied his brakes. But the heavy trucks dragged him forwards, jerking him around.
“On! On! On!” Shouted the trucks.
“Oh nae ya don’t!” Donald groaned, as the guards also applied their brakes. But they did.
Thump! Went the brake van as it bumped into the back of Arthur’s train, causing the red engine to jerk forward. Passengers jumped back as the coaches bounced forward, and Arthur’s guard jumped for cover. Pieces of scrap metal clattered out of the trucks and bounced against the sleepers, some even clattering onto the platform. The station master looked up from his crossword and saw the confusion. He immediately telephoned Sir Topham Hatt.
“What’s going on back there!” Arthur called.
“This horrid brake van’s bumped into us!” The coaches wailed.
“Don’t be daft, brake vans can’t move on their own.” Arthur reminded, rolling his eyes.
“That might be me.” Donald sheepishly whistled. Luckily, nobody was hurt, although Donald’s front guard had a bad bump on his head.
“Donald? I thought you were pulling a train of coal?” Arthur wondered. The station master had told Arthur about Donald and his train earlier in the morning.
“Aye, I am.” Donald admitted. “I’m a middle engine.”
“Why would you want to do that?” Arthur asked. “You can’t see where you’re going.”
“No, you can’t.” Came a stern voice.
It was the Fat Controller, walking on to the platform. Arthur’s coaches had been checked out, and he was allowed to go. With a whistle, he set off down his little line.
“Donald,” The Fat Controller began. “Why are you a middle engine?”
“I’m sorry, sir.” Donald apologised. “I wanted to help clear the yards at Barrow by taking two trains at once.”
“I understand, Donald.” The Fat Controller nodded. “But I expect you to know better than to go ahead with silly ideas.”
“Aye, sir. I know.” Donald wheeshed.
“I shall get Henry to take the coal to the Coaling Plant, and you can take the scrap to the scrap yard.” The Fat Controller instructed. When Henry arrived, Douglas set off with his trucks of scrap, and Henry puffed away with the coal. Trucks still sat at Barrow, but when Bear’s holiday had ended, they managed to get through the backlog within a few months.