“I never knew it was so big in here,” Sam said.
After breakfast, Tom had asked the boys what they wanted to do. Billy had repeated his wish to visit the National Railway Museum, and everyone was in favour. To my surprise there was no admission fee, but visitors were asked to give a donation, something I was more than happy to do.
The boys had moved over to some of the steam engines on display.
“Coppernob!” Tom read the nameplate aloud to the giggling boys.
“It’s called that because the raised portion above the boiler is made of copper,” Cliff told us.
“Look, you can get your fingers inside,” Billy said, exploring a tear in the smooth copper cladding.
“The holes were made by flying shrapnel when the station where Coppernob spent the war was bombed,” Cliff told us.
“Can we see the
