The mine that died
This short story is fiction, the events of the story are fact.
During late 1978, the National Union of Mineworkers called a series of strike actions in the UK. The aim of the NUM was to bring the government down by crippling the economy; they may have done this, if not for men they called "scabs."
These men braved picket lines, abuse, and violence to keep the mines working. The leader of the NUM was not a scientist, what he didn't know but the the National Coal Board did know was that if the mines are not kept ventilated, there occurs a build of methane, and water which forms the explosive mixture known as either Damp Gas, or Marsh Gas. The problem with the mixture other than being a lethally explosive is there is no way of knowing it is there, until it is too late; once you realise the danger, you only have seconds before the gas kills you.
Even the smallest spark can cause an explosion so large it can blow the mine shaft, trapping the men below in the darkness, and gloom.
Of all the risks miners take, this is the one they fear the most. The unseen danger is why they used to take a canary with them. if the bird died, they knew they had minutes to evacuate before death.
Overdale, in Derbyshire was a small, forgotten mine which had been out of use for many years, when the incident happened. The mine had long become unprofitable, but with the strikes, the village council decided to re-open it as they had no heating, and the forecast was for snow, not uncommon in the North of England in winter.
Bert Robinson, Jim Morris, and Dick Chalmers opted to visit the pit to see if they shaft could be worked in safety. They knew the risks involved being miners for years; as the proverb goes "Needs must as the Devil drives."
In this case the Devil was the need to stay warm in a cold winter with no coal for the fires. The men took on the dangerous task, knowing what lay ahead they sat in the Chapel of Rest, and prayed for several minutes before walking to the mini-van taking them to the mine. Around the Chapel were the reminders of the dangers of working the mines, not that reminders were necessary.
There were no picket lines to cross for these men, the mine was so small the media would ignore their actions, and the head of the Union probably never heard of the disused mine, but that would soon change.
The men in the van sat in silent prayer, wondering if after all this time the mine would be workable, they never considered it being unsafe; as miners they knew, if the mine isn't ventilated the methane content in the air will kill you; the gas drains the Oxygen from the air. will kill you. Then there is the added danger of the damp causing the explosive mixture, but the village needed the coal, so they had to attempt to get the mine working. The men arrived at the pithead, and standing in silence viewed their task.
Bert, glanced at the shaft, and said, "We know what is ahead, we can't not be worried, the sooner we start; the sooner we can get back to our families."
Slowly, the wheel which was used to move the cage moved as the years of rust released their grip. Listening intently, the men heard a slight murmur from the shaft; they knew what the sound was, and that they had the smallest chance of survival, yet the village depended on the coal below their feet.
Dick said, "I'm surprised the machinery still works, it has laid idle for many years."
Jim added, "Like us, Dick, once we worked down there," he said looking at the cage as it began its descent, "Now we're as out-dated as our Dave's LP selection."
The men gave a half-hearted laugh, yet, they knew he told the truth.
The men who had once not thought about the oppressive nature of the job were haunted now, by the darkness below then as the they entered the cage. Below, all they saw was the darkness, like entering a giant's toothless mouth, the mine drew them down. The journey which once appeared short, now appeared endless as the gloom, and concerns grow within the group. There was no need to cross themselves, they realised going back down had left little, if any course of action which would not be of grave danger to the men.
The cage reached the bottom of the shaft, and the men began their survey; none thought the pit could be saved, after years of neglect, it would be folly to attempt to open it.
To break the silence, Jim joked, "Do you think there any ghosts down here?"
Dave replied, "There are stories of miners trapped here going back centuries, Jim; let's hope we don't join them."
Bert shook, and commented, "Don't say that, Dave, you know you should treat the danger so lightly."
Dave commented, "I was saying what we are thinking, Bert, the reality is we know this is a desperate bid to get the coal. The pits in the area have been robbed for decades. If we were on the coast, all we'd get is sea-coal, poor quality dragged up from water-logged shafts were the mine as collapsed. Our Union knew what was happening, Jim, and they did nothing. The bosses knew coal takes millions of years to form, yet they had the men working double shifts. Now, we are here to witness the effects of those men, pray we live to tell."
Bert shivered, whether from the damp, or the chillness of the reply, he never knew; then he commented, "Do you think we'll get out?"
No reply was the answer; the men knew in their hearts, the possibility was there, but the greater possibility would be, the pit would be their grave.
"Okay, we know the risks, let's get on with the job, and hope we get out of here," Jim replied.
Bert tuned to look at what lay ahead, and said, "Honestly, do you think we'll find something, Dave?"
It took seconds for Dave to reply, "Bert, in my opinion, this is a waste of our time, and their money; but, we have to do what we're told by the Union bosses."
It wasn't long after that trouble showed its head, "Jim, did you hear that?," Dave asked.
"I wish I could say no, but I did hear it, Dave. Our worst nightmare is about to approach, and we're trapped down here."
The rumbling they heard came from deep below their feet, and signalled the change of air pressure needed for a build-up of methane to change into an explosive mixture. Dave, Bert, and Jim knew they had no means to escape their doom, so they sat, and prayed.
On the surface, Gregg Carter, the cage operator hear what he thought was thunder, but he knew it wasn't as the day was clear. He sat in silence and prayed the men didn't suffer, as he ran down the road the ground below his feet shook as though a bomb had landed, throwing him to the ground. Rising slowly, he glanced back to see the mine workings collapse down the shaft.
This story is fiction; the events of the strikes are fact. The gas mixture I mentioned is a real danger miners accept, even in the modern age. If it wasn't for the "scabs" who kept the mines running, this scenario could have happened.
In 1966, in the village of Aberfan, there was a disaster, the waste heaps from the mines were undermined by weeks of rains, and turned into a mass of muddy coal, and slate which slid down the hill killing 109 children, and 5 teachers. That is my lasting memory of 1966, not England winning the World Cup.
When I was working in Scotland, I often passed though the pit areas of Yorkshire; each time, I prayed another Aberfan would not occur. In the end, the miners became their own enemy, not the Conservative government. All over England, the miners had worked the pits so hard thee were piles of coal.
Though the events didn't happen in the UK, they could so easily have happened.
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