The Night of the Great Storm
A light on the line, and a choice that cannot wait
The coded message warned of a train travelling south without any orders.
Reading it twice, Thomas felt his heart begin to with fear.
The message said the train carried men who had refused to fight.
They were deserters, fleeing the war, hunted along every northern line.
If the army knew their route, soldiers would be waiting at the next station.
Thomas understood at once what his signals were expected to do.
If he set the line to danger, the train would stop at Wraythorn.
Stopping there, the frightened men would be surrounded and taken away.
If he kept the signal green, the train would pass safely into the dark.
Outside, the greatest storm in years was breaking over the black hills.
Rain lashed the windows, and the wires howled like living things.
If the weather were calmer, he might have more time to think.
Trembling, Thomas gripped the cold levers and stared down the empty line.
If he were a braver man, he told himself, the choice would be simple.
He thought of the old signalman, whose single choice had haunted him.
If duty always meant , then mercy would have no place at all.
Far off, a single light appeared, growing through the driving rain.
The train was coming, its whistle torn to pieces by the wind.
If he did nothing now, the decision would be made for him.
Breathing slowly, Thomas laid his hand upon the danger signal.
If the men were caught, some of them would surely be shot.
If they escaped, he alone would carry the for letting them pass.
The light grew brighter, filling the valley with a trembling glow.
Knowing the , Thomas made his choice and pulled a single lever.
The great signal lamp swung slowly round, and its colour began to change.