RS Book Reviews: Henry the Green Engine - The Odyssey of a Delicate Steamer

The Odyssey of a Delicate Steamer

Henry the Green Engine

Reviewed by theclaudhamilton

For me, it's always been somewhat difficult to pick favourites when it comes to the Thomas and Friends franchise, particularly in terms of favourite episodes. That said, regarding favourite engines, a certain No. 3 comes pretty darn close, partly because of his handsome outline, partly because his expression in the TV series in particular just seems so genial despite the Awdrys’ best attempts to make a grumpy old so-and-so out of him - but also because, out of all the engines that appeared in the first ever Railway Series books, Henry the Green Engine was the one with the most complex backstory. Conceived as an Atlantic by Wilbert Awdry, but erroneously drawn to the same Pacific design as Gordon, some might say he quickly became the Rev's least favourite character simply because readers couldn't tell the two engines apart even when C. Reginald Dalby took over in 1947; so much so that he even attempted to have Henry scrapped after the second book! Fortunately for the younger generation, there was another way round the problem, one that arguably took on the darkest tone of the early Railway Series. This, then, is my review on Henry the Green Engine.

STORY 1: Coal

Now, there are those out there who might think the Railway Series leans towards the right, as evidenced by the portrayal of a red bus (in all senses of the word) as a major antagonist among other factors, but I can't really agree with that sentiment. Yes, a strike takes place in Troublesome Engines and is quashed by the Fat Controller, but if anything, it's more along the lines of a struggling aristocrat being made to look after his country house all by himself because there are no servants available, but refuses because he thinks it's beneath him. In effect, that's kind of how I see Gordon - very much the Iron Duke of the fleet, he's very much conservative in character, with such backwards and immoral views as "Upper class shouldn't work for a living" and "Charity begins at home" and "Foreigners shouldn't be welcome here"; whereas Edward's more liberal in character, readily welcoming newcomers, always striving to help out in a bad situation, and never afraid to deal with the more menial tasks where needed.

Henry the Green Engine is another classic case in point. The book starts off with Henry complaining of steaming troubles, only to be fobbed off by James. The Fat Controller, however, knows all too well that Henry is dead serious about his illness, and fears he may have to replace him if he can't find the root of the problem. Given all the problems he's experienced with Henry in the past, it's a wonder he hasn't scrapped him already; but instead, he's chosen to put up with him and try to help him as best as he possibly can, much like how my own parents have gone to great lengths to ensure that I had a good life despite having autism, and all this in a time when John Major was Prime Minister and there was little sympathy for the disabled. Fortunately for Henry, the answer to their problems is a lot simpler than they realise. According to The Island of Sodor and Reading Between The Lines, he was built from stolen GNR plans by another manufacturer who was trying to make an exact copy of their new prototype Pacific (Gordon), but the wrong plans were taken, and he ended up being built with an undersized firebox for his wheel arrangement. In effect, he is suffering the locomotive equivalent of an eating disorder, one which can only be alleviated with the best quality Welsh coal - an expensive option, but one that the Fat Controller is willing to try. The experiment more than pays off, and Henry becomes a sprightly enough performer to knock the wind right out of Thomas' sails when, after consistently arriving late, he actually beats him to the Junction!

Overall, the story serves a very good moral of altruism - that "survival of the fittest" is never the kindest approach, and that one should always help one's fellow creatures in times of need. That, I feel, is something that everyone should heed, especially in these troubled times of mass exodus of refugees from war-torn third-world countries. I myself owe a lot to the support of my friends and family, and of autism-related charities, and it's gratifying to see that the same message is being conveyed through the Railway Series.

STORY 2: The Flying Kipper 

This is a story which I find to be the most atmospheric in terms of visuals. Even as a child, watching the episode on video, I was always captivated by the stunning winter scenery as recreated by David Mitton and his crew, along with that beautiful musical score by Mike O'Donnell and Junior Campbell. It feels so much like a chilly early winter morning, and the sight of Henry speeding cheerfully through the Sudrian countryside completes the scene perfectly. Already, we get a sense that everything is on the up for our big green hero, whose performance has impressed the Fat Controller so much that he has not only entrusted him with this perishable goods train, but also earmarked him for the express roster alongside Gordon. Nothing can possibly spoil his day now......or can it?

Thanks largely to the various Railway Series crashes, I'm absolutely fascinated in the history of railway accidents, and the details surrounding major disasters like Quintinshill, Hawes Junction, Harrow and Wealdstone, Clayton Tunnel and Abermule make for a great deal of interesting reading. Another tragic accident that I find interesting is the Lichfield crash of 1946, which probably provided part of the inspiration for this story - in this instance, the points were frozen solid, and the rods linking it to the signalbox managed to inexplicably buckle under the force of the point lever. Combine this with the wrong-side failure of the signals at Abbots Ripton in 1876, and you end up with a booby trap for an unsuspecting train. Henry does suspect trouble for a moment as he's checked by a Distant signal, but with the Home weighed down into the Clear position, he doesn't give it any further thought. Until...CRASH! Without warning, he hurtles into the back of a goods train waiting in the refuge loop, damaging himself almost beyond repair and angering the other engine's fireman by losing him his mug of cocoa! Although I feel Dalby and Mitton could have done better in making him look half-mangled, like the ill-fated S69 4-6-0 No. 1506 following the Colchester accident of 1913, it still does a good job of conveying the immense devastation and disarray of such an alarming rear-end collision. It's just a wonder no-one was killed - although nothing is said of the goods train guard after the crash, which does raise a few questions about his survival.

With such a vast catalogue of damage, there's a chance that Henry could well be scrapped after all, even if it's never mentioned as such in the narration. But once again, the aforementioned moral about always helping others manages to shine through when the Fat Controller instead sends him to be completely rebuilt at Crewe - and when Henry returns, the frail, unhealthy Pacific we used to know is as good as dead. In its place comes the dashing Rex Harrison of all British steam locomotives, the LMS Class 5 4-6-0, otherwise known as the Black Five. In this new form (and with the original engine's personality and memory to boot, which makes me wonder if several components were recycled from the original), Henry becomes a versatile, free-steaming jack-of-all-trades within the NWR fleet, and one who will remain an asset to the railway forever more. That said, the saga is still far from over...

STORY 3: Gordon's Whistle

With Henry back in business and even proving himself more than capable of pulling the express on a regular basis, Gordon is starting to envy his newfound versatility, and grumbles bitterly about it in the sheds. Once again, the stuffy, backward-thinking side of his character shines through when he insists that "a shape good enough for me is good enough for him"; which in fact it wasn't, as we already know. Just reading what he says, you not only get the impression that he's extremely proud of his Doncaster heritage, but has a great deal against the engineering equivalent of cosmetic surgery on humans. The really annoying bit for him is that he can't find fault with Henry in any way, shape or form, so instead he chooses to pluck one out of thin air - the excuse in question being Henry's alleged exuberance with his own whistle. It's a feeble excuse, but it's enough to make Henry feel crestfallen, even after some quiet words of comfort from little Percy.

But karma soon strikes with a vengeance. As Gordon is making his way back with the express, his whistle valve mysteriously jams open, stirring up a huge ruckus along the way and even making people think that there's an air raid about to strike the island - which makes no sense whatsoever, as this and the other four stories are set in 1935, four years before the Second World War. It does, however, give us a reminder of that truly ludicrous legend of the A4 chime whistles being mistaken for air raid sirens during the conflict, subsequently being replaced with ordinary LNER whistles until the hostilities were over. I can only imagine what it would have been like if one Jack Jones happened to be on that same train! "THE WHISTLE'S JAMMED! DON'T PANIC! DON'T PANIC!" Obviously everyone else along the route does panic, even the horses, and it's not until Gordon finally reaches the Big Station and is taken on shed that the noise is finally stopped. I daresay the other engines must have felt a little sorry for him if they're not making such a big fuss about the pot calling the kettle black, but then this particular kettle probably wouldn't have been able to hear them anyway, even if they did - with all that whistling, his ears would probably still be ringing incessantly by that time! Instead, all we get is a subtle reminder from Henry of those famous last words - "It isn't wrong, but we just don't do it."

STORY 4: Percy and the Trousers

Taking a break from the central character of the book, we move onto the smallest engine in the fleet. Since watching through all the episodes of Dad's Army, I've come to compare Percy the Small Engine with Private Pike, and this is just one of those stories where his juvenile whimsy proves my point; having seen workmen in scarves on cold days, Percy is discontented with having only his own fire to keep him warm, and starts whining about wanting a scarf of his own. Naturally, Henry still gets a part in this story, being pragmatic if somewhat dismissive with Percy and pointing out that engines don't wear scarves, to which Percy has a cheeky stab at his shorter funnel. I do find it odd, though, that an engine should take pride in the length of his or her funnel, though - I mean, who in their right mind would take pride in having a short neck? It's only a superficial detail, and serves no cosmetic advantage whatsoever. But hey, apples and oranges.

Interestingly enough, this story was adapted from an anecdote by C. Hamilton Ellis, as described in "The Trains We Loved". The events of this story play out almost identically, with Percy coasting into the station and attempting a game of "Grandmother's Steps" with the coaches he is to take back to the sidings, only for a luggage trolley to be crushed beneath his wheels and various items of clothing flung right into his front along with a faceful of jam! Talk about a sticky situation! There's something so comical about seeing him with all those garments clinging onto his smokebox and bufferbeam, with a top hat mistaking his lamp bracket for a coat hook...wait just a minute! Did I just say "top hat"? Oh, snap! That can only mean one thing! Yes, the Fat Controller was also meant to be travelling by train that day, and it's his luggage that was included on the flattened trolley, and which now lies jam-soaked on Percy's front end, with his best trousers opting to try their luck as an oversized scarf around his funnel. I've heard of wardrobe malfunctions, but a pair of trousers as a scarf is perhaps the most ridiculous idea that I've ever come across - and it certainly doesn't find favour with Percy when the Fat Controller, annoyed with him for having ruined his trousers, makes him suffer the humiliation of wearing them back to the yard. It does give you an impression of how Pike keeps getting the short end of the stick from Captain Mainwaring in particular, either winding up in or being forced into humiliating situations and not getting any sympathy - although I would argue Gordon is more of a Mainwaring than the Fat Controller.

STORY 5: Henry's Sneeze

How ironic that, having had his earlier maladies cured, the final story about Henry includes a word that one would associate with illness! Nothing, however, could be further from the truth, as the story begins with Henry speeding along on an eastbound express, as sprightly and full of beans as you would expect out of a Stanier engine. Along the way, he whistles a greeting to whom he believes to be a small group of young trainspotters - only to find the hard way that they're actually hooligans who are trying to drop stones down his funnel! Not an easy thing to do with an engine passing through at speed, but the falling projectiles do still manage to shatter the carriage windows, scratch Henry's paint and even bludgeon the fireman. This serves as a minor lesson about rail safety, but still an important one; throwing foreign objects at a train on purpose can cause damage, injury and even, in rare cases, death. The last one, thankfully, doesn't happen, and the passengers walk away completely unhurt, but Henry's driver still has to Stop and Examine, just to be on the safe side. But instead of calling the police, who will only let them off with a stern warning and no guarantee that it won't happen again, Henry's driver comes up with a clever ploy to pay them back...

Over the course of the day, Henry's fireman piles up the fire with slack coal and allows soot and ashes to build up in his fire-tubes, and by the time they reach the last station before the bridge, Henry himself is so bunged up that he can't even speak properly. Issuing a final warning to the passengers to keep the windows shut, they set off again and find the boys lying in wait with a whole arsenal of stones. What they don't know is that Henry's class is fitted with an ash ejector, and his driver intends to use it to their full advantage. Closer and closer they come to the bridge, the hooligans poised for another bombardment onto the approaching train. Then, suddenly, the driver opens up the ejector, and hot smoke explodes out of his funnel and blasts the boys with a lungful of soot! Nothing more deserves to be said about the controversy surrounding the infamous inclusion of the N-word than it was a most unfortunate mistake on Awdry's part and it's a good thing it's never going to happen again (we hope), but I would like to add that Henry's actual sneeze as he passes under the bridge in the TV series adaptation ("At-OOOOOSH-oo!") is perhaps the weirdest sneeze I have ever heard in my life! It certainly pays off at the very least, as never again has anyone attempted the stone-dropping stunt ever again.

FINAL THOUGHTS

All told, Henry the Green Engine does a really good job of correcting all the flaws with Henry's design and making him more distinctive, but also shows that with the best will in the world, even the severest disabilities can still be overcome, and even a supposed "wretch" can become an invaluable part of society with the right kind of help. Without a support group, my parents, or even basic sympathy for those with autism, I probably would have been consigned to a mental institute just as Henry probably would have been consigned to the scrap-heap without a sympathetic controller; but instead, I became a better person, and Henry became a better engine. The sad part is that my condition is incurable, and I, along with other such people, have to live with it for the rest of my days, whereas Henry is completely cured of his steaming troubles. But does that bother me? As if! By the end of the day, autism is but a minor detail in my life, just like heavy coal consumption was only a minor detail to the owners of the two S&DJR 7F 2-8-0s that live on in preservation.

On a sidenote, it's incredible to think how similar Henry's tale of woe was to that of No. 71000 Duke of Gloucester, the one-off BR Class 8 which was built as a replacement for No. 46202 Princess Anne - the former Turbomotive which, in an ironic twist of fate, was written off in the notorious Harrow and Wealdstone disaster shortly after being rebuilt as a conventional locomotive. A far cry indeed from the Flying Kipper! The Duke suffered a great deal of steaming troubles in his own right, though mostly due to an undersized ashpan and the lack of a Kylchap exhaust, and in the end he was sent for scrap in 1962, with a set of his valve gear being removed for display. By a stroke of luck, he ended up in Dai Woodham's yard on Barry Island, and in the 1980s, an intrepid group of enthusiasts bought him up and set about restoring him to full working order, taking the opportunity to correct all the faults. There were many detractors at first, who thought there would be no saving this engine - but the looks on their faces when Duke of Gloucester re-entered service on BR metals must have been priceless! Like the Fat Controller with Henry, the owning group recognised that the Duke could yet be reprieved and enhanced to the point where he became the ultimate express engine he should have been, and with the right approach, they succeeded. Henry the Green Engine is a real lesson of compassion, and one that everyone should take heed of.