Thomas and Friends: The Adventure Begins

In Search of Vere

For the many British soldiers fighting in the Western Front, the war had been like a gory nightmare. Their new surroundings of poor food, harsh diseases, chemicals, infections, injuries and primitive living conditions were horrible, but the weather remained the same. The rich, the poor and the average working men fought the Imperial German Army in a spectacular display of gun shots, bombs and cries of the dying. Old and new friends appeared in their finest uniforms of different ranks and specialisms for the Battle of Festubert, the last British offense on Tuesday, May 25. As the rest of the battle ended on Friday, June 18th, Officer Lionel Sotheby of the Scottish Black Watch Regiment wrote the details of the offense to his mother:

"The Germans... were sniping from loop holes near the base of the parapet. They sniped at anything that moved, wounded and all. Thus we few that were left dug ourselves as low as possible. I was wedged in between two dead men... never shall I forget that awful experience."

Even as the Austro-Hungarian Empire fired their rifles at the Russian troops near Przemysl on June 2nd, a large party was held the following evening in Vicarstown on Sodor only 1,500 miles away, but in another world. This was the celebration of an event concerning the British occupation of Amara, Mesopotamia. With no bass brand provided for the natives and foreigners of Sodor, the members of the Regiment played their own instruments to accompany their dancing. Carol danced with Ethel Bray on light feet while Wilbert sat along and miserable by the window, him being too young for the alcoholic atmosphere of the men drinking absinthe who wanted a close up of seeing the Green Fairy upon succumbing to the drink. He thought back to his father, wondering if he was just about as lonely as he was.

En route to Dieppe from picking up wounded soldiers in the second battle of Artois, Captain James Ellis came to the bridge at 8:00 PM to check on the Brighton IV's approach to any obstacles like a naval mine. Vere confronted him with political news.

"I hear Parliament has issued another customs pact to Holland," he said.

But the captain kept his eyes on the black horizon.

"You mean the Netherlands Oversea Trust Company?" he replied. "I hear they sell contraband goods. Great company the N.O.T., full of people from the Dutch East Indies."

"Why not be thankful that they are not allied with the Germans?" asked Vere.

Captain Ellis didn't say anything, instead he poured his tea into a cup from the chartroom and drank it with a pucker of his lips.

"Who wonders about the Germans? This is a good tea."

He spoke to the officer on the port side of the ship.

"Keep maintaining full speed until we reach Dieppe. We'll stop for the night and take the soldiers home in the afternoon."

"Aye, sir," the officer saluted.

By 9:30 PM, Sir Topham Hatt came to check on Wilbert after the party was over. He found the young lad's head resting against the window.

"How are you, Wilbert?"

"I don't know," said Wilbert sighing to himself. "I guess I just me dad."

"Wars don't last forever," said Sir Topham Hatt. "He'll be back soon."

"Can't he just take me home?"

"I don't know, but maybe I can keep a full track of his whereabouts in the wireless shack."

"You can do that?"

Wilbert was seemingly unfamiliar with wireless telegraphy, but Sir Topham Hatt remained positive over the outcome, using a smile and a hand signal to please the boy.

"I'll make sure of it."

And he left before Wilbert could specify the ship his father was on.

On his way to the wireless shack outside of town near the shore, Sir Topham Hatt decided to take a whiff of the calm sea air, scanning the horizon for any ships that in his sense, would know the whereabouts of Vere Awdry. After a while, he spotted the navigational lights of a steamer about two miles away from the Walney Channel. Mr. Hatt walked carefully to the wireless shack, asking the telegrapher for the name of the ship. The telegrapher was convinced that it was an Allied ship, but made sure that the ship's crew was familiar with a recognition signal by typing CQ into the Morse key.

As luck would have it, the telegrapher was hearing from Nancy, a ship from Tidmouth Harbour bound for Queenstown, Ireland with a list of merchant supplies. He assumed that she was the ship Sir Topham Hatt had seen in the distance, in fact Nancy had been travelling near the island to reach the Irish Sea. Her wireless man was making routine calls and when asked of Nancy's position from the wireless shack in Vicarstown, he gave them the correct position. The telegrapher later asked the following message to be relayed to outgoing ships:

"To Mr. Vere Awdry, we have your son and we request that you keep us up to date with your current position. If by any chance, please come to Vicarstown on the Island of Sodor if you wish to retrieve him."

The telegrapher repeated the message sixteen times, uncertain if Nancy had properly responded. Nancy, however, did respond-to outgoing ships. She sent the message to her sister Violet and Violet's captain dutifully changed course to Spain for a shipment of coal and firearms, avoiding the U-boats at any cost.

For the next two hours, the message regarding the whereabouts of Vere Awdry was picked up by the Leyland Liner Louisianian and the Allan Line's Scandinavian, both passing the message on to outgoing ships. The Marconi station at Poldhu, Cornwall, England received the message directly from Sodor and took the contents as matter of questioning. The news eventually traveled to the Awdry family in Brighton.

58 miles away aboard the White Star Liner Olympic, having been converted into a troopship with a full dazzle camouflage, wireless operator Ernest James Moore and an apprentice named Alec Bagot, had picked up the message of Vere's whereabouts, carefully counting the number of dot and dashes received. Agreeing that Mr. Awdry was a passenger, they gave the message to Captain Bertram Hayes on the bridge, who was unfamiliar with the name, but suggested the same idea.

"If you see this Awdry fellow in the dining room, please tell me at once," he told the operators.

They went to the dining room where the troops were having a late dinner and asked each and every one of them for the name of Vere Awdry, but no one knew who he was. Afterwards, the flustered men checked the passenger list three times over, then two times with the manifest hold. More confused than ever, they assumed that a stowaway was onboard.

At 6:26 AM on June 4th, the telegrapher, having slept through a long night of wireless traffic, was back to requesting the whereabouts of Vere Awdry. By chance he received a response from the Cunard Liner Saxonia, another troopship on duty since March. She was carrying approximately 500 German prisoners of war to Southend Pier in Essex where she was to be moored as an accommodation ship. While unfamiliar with Mr. Awdry, Saxonia's wireless man passed the message along to her sister ships Ivernia and Carpathia, who were already transporting troops of the Canadian Expeditionary Force. Sailing with a convoy from Liverpool to Glasgow, Scotland, the ships drifted toward the HMHS Dieppe through the river and asked the ship's crew for Mr. Awdry's name, this time one of the crewmembers, an engineer from the LBSCR, was familiar with Vere and he relayed a simple message to oncoming traffic:

"Mr. Awdry is onboard the Brighton."