Almost abandoned after WW1 heroism - the incredible story of 1 of UK's oldest steam trains

The history books will tell you that Harry Patch, who died in 2009 at the grand old age of 111, was the last surviving combat soldier from the Great War of 1914 to 1918.

There are some, however, who will say - albeit with tongue planted firmly in cheek - that the last of the First World War's veterans is still very much with us, living out its well-earned retirement in a small corner of Oxfordshire. This old warhorse doesn't venture out much these days, but that's somewhat understandable given its age, not to mention the horrors it must have witnessed in France during the final year of the Great War.

It carries no name, only a number - 5322 - and consists of steel rather than flesh and blood. Even so, quite how it managed to survive the killing fields, not to mention another world war and being left for dead in a South Wales scrapyard during the 1960s, is something of a miracle.

Let us rewind to 1917. After three years of fighting, hostilities are still ongoing in northern France with no immediate end in sight to the war between Britain and Germany along with their respective allies.

That April, a call went out from the UK's coalition government to Britain's railway companies for steam locomotives to serve behind the lines on the Western Front, keeping the men and the materials of war flowing.

One of those companies, the Great Western Railway, set to work building 20 such locomotives at its giant factory in Swindon.

Over the course of August and September 1917, those 20 steam engines were transported by boat from Portsmouth to France where they immediately went into service amongst the mayhem.

During the next 14 months, right up until the guns fell silent on 11 November 1918, number 5322 worked day and night hauling supply trains mainly from the port of Calais to the military railheads dotted around the Flanders market town of Hazebrouck, a critical Allied logistics centre and a key target during the German spring offensive of 1918.

Incredibly the locomotive, which became known as something of a lucky charm by those who manned it, survived the war unscathed, aided no doubt by the two Lee-Enfield .303 rifles fitted inside its cab, one for use by the engine driver, and the other for its fireman.

In an article written in 1973 for the Great Western Echo magazine, Charles Sherrington, a former serving officer with the Railway Operating Division (the railway arm of the British Army) during the First World War, recalled encountering 5322 - or ROD 5322 as the engine became known during its military service - in France during 1918.

"That night nearing the level crossing at Pont des Briques, where one turned off for the (soldiers') mess, an eastbound train was rapidly overtaking me," wrote Sherrington. "There was no mistaking the type of locomotive by the beat of its exhaust. She overtook me at the Pont des Briques crossing, with its metal rolling gates, and it was easy to see her number in large white letters on the tender - ROD 5322. Behind her were the customary 44 or so wagons, the supplies for two (army) divisions."

Sherrington added that 5322 and her sister engines "were admirable locomotives for this work" during the war, when their strategic importance in terms of moving troops and armaments made them as much a target as any soldier.

Throughout the remainder of 1918, 5322 continued dodging the bullets and shells, remaining in France until 1919 to help with the post-war clean-up operation.

Then, instead of being abandoned or scrapped on foreign soil, the locomotive was transported back to the UK where, for the next 45 years, it continued hauling passenger and freight trains around the west of England and South Wales, dodging plenty more bullets along with the occasional bomb during the Second World War.

"That's one of the most remarkable things, the fact that this steam engine came back from France intact after the First World War had ended," says Alasdair Matthews of the Didcot Railway Centre, home of the Great Western Society.

"Quite a few engines were sent abroad to places such as Palestine, Turkey and Egypt during both the world wars. Most of them ended up being abandoned or kept on being used until they wore out, after which they were scrapped. Some were even used as filling for flood defence schemes. Because they were so big and heavy, they were good for things like breakwaters. But this one managed to survive and come home.

"How it managed to survive is anyone's guess. Luck probably played its part, as did the fact it was such a new engine, having only just been built in 1917. I imagine that, once the war was over, the Great Western Railway said to the war department 'We'd really like to have that back please.' If it had been an older engine in a country further away than France, then it might not have been so lucky."

In April 1964, with steam engines gradually being phased out of service in the UK and replaced by shiny new diesel locomotives, 5322 was withdrawn after running more than 1.3 million miles and carted off to a scrapyard in Barry, South Wales, to be cut up and disposed with.

Except that, not for the first time in its life, it somehow managed to cheat death.

For the next five years, 5322 sat outside in the Welsh rain awaiting its appointment with the grim reaper, which kept on getting pushed back.

At some point the locomotive was spotted by a railway enthusiast who not only realised it was salvageable, but also recognised its historical significance.

Negotiations swiftly got underway between the scrapyard and the Great Western Society, dedicated to preserving former Great Western Railway artifacts for the enjoyment of future generations.

Eventually a fee of £2,000 - the equivalent of around £29,500 in today's money - was agreed on, and in March 1969 the locomotive was transported to Caerphilly in the South Wales valleys where it was restored to its former glory by a group of dedicated volunteers.

In 1973 the engine was moved to the Didcot Railway Centre where it resides to this day, safe from the attentions of snipers, shells, bombs and scrap merchants.

Although 5322's wartime service record has guaranteed its status as something of a celebrity, the locomotive has also been in demand over the years as a star of the silver screen, appearing in films such as 'One of Our Dinosaurs is Missing'. In 2011 it was even given a temporary disguise as a Russian steam engine in order to appear in the movie 'Anna Karenina' starring Keira Knightly and Jude Law.

One model railway manufacturing company has also made its very own replica of 5322 - painted khaki, as it was during its First World War service - which people can buy to run on their train sets at home.

"The saying old soldiers never die was never truer than with this engine," adds Alasdair Matthews. "We are obviously very proud to look after such an important bit of history as number 5322. The human veterans of this conflict are now all gone and it is down to the objects, places and the documents to remind us of what happened.

"Our 'old soldier' stands as a memorial to World War One. It is sad to think that World War Two is also fast leaving living memory and, soon, the last of that generation's voices will fall silent too.

"It is so important for us to keep telling the stories, to remind ourselves and subsequent generations of the huge sacrifices and heroism that are the foundations of the freedoms we enjoy today. This is our duty as the custodians of this small part of World War One history."