MINING DISASTER

Taranaki Daily News, 10 November 1934, Page 5

MINING DISASTER

THE STORY OF WREXHAM APPALLING LOSS OF LIFE. RESCUERS’ HEROIC EFFORTS. London, Sept. 28. The number of men at work in the Wrexham coal mine when the explosion occurred at 2 a.m. on Saturday morning is'estimated to have been 400, states the London correspondent of the Wellington Post. This was a- much larger number than usual. Owing to the prospect of an important football match on the Saturday afternoon, many men had chosen to go on duty in order to be free for the match. For 40 hours the heroic attempts at rescue continued, but at 8 o’clock on the Sunday night the following official statement was issued:— “The attempt to overcome the fire in the main road has gone on ever since yesterday, but, in spite of very strenuous efforts, and although some progress has been made in this road, the fire has got further hold on a road to the right, through which it was hoped that access would have been got to any possible survivors. To-day several explosions in bye of the fire in the main road have occurred. This afternoon they became more frequent and closer to where the men were working on the fire. “The return air in both main returns is carrying carbon monoxide in dangerous quantities, and it is with great reluctance that all parties—the management, the representatives of the miners, and HM. inspectors—have come to the conclusion that no person can possibly be alive in the workings. In these circumstances, and in view of the increasingly grave risk to the men engaged in combating the fire on the main road, it has been decided that it would not be right to continue to expose these workers to such / serious risk, and all persons have beeh withdrawn from the mine.” It is estimated that 261 lives have been lost. CLIMB UP AN AIR SHAFT. One of the most extraordinary escapes was that of a man who crawled 200 ft up a vertical air shaft not 2ft wide. “I was working at the far end of the road where the explosion occurred,” this man said. “I heard a terrible explosion. The earth quaked round about me. I felt a great rush of air go past. Obviously something terrible must have happened. Fallen rock seemed to have shut me in. I dashed towards an air shaft close by; met some of my mates, and said, ‘Here, climb this.’ But they refused. The shaft is hardly. 2ft. wide. They were afraid of getting jammed. I’m a little man. I scrambled into it, and wriggled inch by inch to the top. It took about , an hour.”. That- man was taken straight home, exhausted, but he insisted upon returning to the shaft to help. He is believed to be the only man saved from the district where the explosion occurred. Some distance from the bottom of the shaft a party of 17 men were working. The blast of the explosion whipped off their scanty clothing. “Get out; make for safety,” cried the leader. He led the way, but it was hard in the dim light for men to act promptly. Most were too far apart to see one another, but all hurried, forward. The great blast of air was succeeded at once by the tremendous heat from the rapidly approaching fire. “Tear your shirts, tear anything and stuff it in . your mouths,” cried the leader. Stumbling here, crawling there, waving bits of clothing in front of their mouths, the men pushed on towards the shaft, half a mile away. Only five of the 17 got through. The other 12 were overwhelmed.' The last of the five was rescued by the leader, who, seeing him fall, ran back into the gas-laden air and dragged him to safety. TRAGEDY OF RESCUE PARTY. 1 One of the first rescue parties to go down was from Llay Main .Colliery, a few miles away. The men groped through smoke so thick that they could not see one another, -until their way was hatred by a great roof fall. For as long as they could they worked in the stifling atmosphere to clear the obstacle. Not until their oxygen gauges showed them that they had bately enough to enable them to return to the shaft did they turn back. Slowly they struggled back to the shaft bottom. Then two men, named Lewis and Hughes, collapsed—their oxygen was exhausted. Their dead bodies were found by later parties. A third man, also named Hughes, fell unconscious near the end. The captain of the team, Jack Williams, although his own oxygen supply was nearly exhausted, went back for him. As he was dragging the unconscious man to safety, Williams was overcome himself. The last member of the team, Price Beard, who had already reached safety, at once returned for the two fallen men. Williams was partly unconscious. Beard, ignoring the danger of gas, threw off his oxygen apparatus, tore up his singlet, wetted it, and placed it on Williams’ face. Then, replacing his mask, he dragged Williams away. Hughes was already dead. Immediately this tragedy was known at the pit head, a second team from the Llay Main went down at once. They could do little, and when their oxygen was exhausted they returned, several on the point of collapse. A SURVIVOR’S One of the first to be brought out of the pit'alive was Cyril Challinor, aged •21. Here is his story of the disaster:— ' “There were about six - of us having our snapping (food) on the wicket road at about five past two. We were about 300 yards from the clutch and were laughing and talking. Suddenly there was a gust of wind. It scattered our snapping tins and our clothes and covered our bread with dirt. We thought it was a burst air pipe, but then suddenly an elderly fellow came running up and said, ‘You had better get your clothes on and get out of here. Try the wind road (a little air-way through which the bad air passes). We knew something was up now. We did not bother with our clothes, and about 20 other fellows joined us. . “We started making our way to the pit bottom in just our shirts and working clothes. We got to the end of the wind road and then we began to meet gas. All of us fanned hard. The gas was getting in our eyes, but we had to face it. We took turns in leading, so that everyone would have the same risk. We now began to meet falls and we had to scramble over them. I thought the 20 fellows who joined us were following us. I looked round, but I could not see them. I do not know what happened to them. The gas was getting thicker and choking us, but we kept on fanning with our shirts, and we got through to the pit bottom, where we met the rescue party. They brought us up to the pit-head and attended to us.” This is the story of one of the rescuers:— "When we got out of the cage at the bottom of the shaft the place was quite clear and well lighted. It did not convey anything of the inferno that lay ahead of us. As one went towards it there was a kind of mist, which became intense. Gresford has always been a hot mine, but in the present conditions it is like going into hell. For some distance you can walk along in an upright position, but presently you have to stoop.

We had not gone very far before our boots were burned and our feet were blistered with the heat. “If we stumbled and our hands touched the ground, they were burned, just as if you had thrust them into a fire. One man dropped his smoke glasses. He tried to pick them up, but could not. They were already too hot. Another man, thinking he might hear something, put his ear to the rock wal of the working. His ear was badly burnt. “No one who has not been through it can credit ’that heat. You know what it is like to toast something before a fire—your hand gets too hot to hold the fork any longer. Well, in Gresford pit at this moment your whole body is like that. It seems impossible for a human being to endure, yet you must go on. The leader walks ahead, carrying a little cage containing a canary. He has to watch it carefully. If it drops, it is an immediate indication of gas. In the terrific heat the birds flutter excitedly. “You stand it as long as you can, trying to put out the fire—although in that furnace the effort seems to have no more effect than putting an eggcupful

of water into the Atlantic Ocean. It seems impossible that any man can remain alive now, but we never give up hope. When, we get to a fall we drive a thick pipe through it, and we know that if anyone is alive on the other side we shall hear from them. “The worst part of the rescue work is when you are returning. The oxygen lasts for two hours, and you have to retain enough to get back safely. Things can go wrong. The intense heat has sapped your strength. Your legs seem to give way under you. A little hill calls for an extra amount of labour, and it is not surprising if, at the end of it all, when you get back some of the , men collapse from exhaustion.” Everybody was recalled from the mine on the Sunday evening and pit ponies which had survived were brought to the surface. Steel girders have been used to form a grid over the top of the pit. On the grid is a cover of rubberoid, and above that sand, and then timbering. At some time the fire within may bum out. In the meantime the means of livelihood not only of the dependants of

the men who lost • their lives but of hundreds more on the books of the company is suddenly and completely cut off. The full complement of those working at the Gresford Colliery is put at 1859 above and below ground. Obviously the economic injury to Wrexham and the surrounding villages resulting from the disaster is several times as great as is suggested by the sudden death of the chief breadwinner of over 200 families.