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Arthur was the chargeman and Dosco driver. He was a strong willed character and he needed to be to keep his motley crew in order. He was ‘Art’ to his face and Jacko behind his back. Art also operated the Wombat, the roof bolt drilling machine. Kurt was second in command and the second Dosco operator. Fearless, strong as an ox, with a ready smile and I never saw him rattled. I can see him now as though it was only yesterday, standing on the Dosco boom in his little shorts with a sweat slicked body. Woody and Steve were a double act always up to some scheme or other and committed practical jokers. Often the butt of their jokes would complain that they should be committed. Then there was ‘BA’, Brian Anthony known to all as Tony, only Jacko’s team would be allowed to use the initials ‘BA’. It certainly was all for one and one for all watching each other's backs for danger. When John, my boss got his knickers in a twist and wanted to see me for a bollocking we all went. Art wouldn't see one of his boys in trouble. John’s face was a picture as all seven of us trooped into his office. Art went into overdrive saying, ‘A jumped up little twat like you are just a waste of space, and if you want to discuss it further we will see you in the heading. We have seen nothing of you in 6 months, so lay off my boy’. John was gob smacked and I was never called into the office again. It was just that sort of team. They sent us on a team building course, not knowing we were the tightest group ever. Art put them straight and we all went off to the pub. We had completed about half way up with the heading when the big accident happened at Bilsthorpe. We were not far from them, maybe three miles, in the same seam. They were in a roof bolted heading, (the same as us) and it collapsed. The team was trapped for two days and it killed five men. When we arrived for work we were all subdued. We stood at the entrance of 19s and looked into the dark cavern stretching away, wondering if our fate would be better than our colleagues at Bilsthorpe. We took a vote whether to continue to work in the death trap that could so easily have been us. We finally voted to go back into the jaws of death. No one would have blamed us had we refused to continue. If we hadn’t gone someone else would have been sent. It was not unusual for a crack, like a pistol shot and that was another roof bolt nut shearing off. The roof had-come down; making it impossible to walk upright, half a mile stooping is not to be recommended. Roof bolts that had given way hung down and if you got to the head end without scraping your back, it was a result. Something had to be done about the lack of height in the heading. A Dosco dint header was installed and we started at the bottom taking, four feet out of the floor. K18s, an advancing face, had by now reached our face line and had to stop as we were going to use their hydraulic chocks on KI9s retreating face. The problem was that we still had half a mile of dinting and half a mile of heading to complete. Also face heading to drive. They gave us a really good contract and we went for it; seven days a week 12 hours a day. Nine months later, with innumerable roof falls and collapses we fought through. A year behind schedule we thurled with KI8s tailgate. (When two underground roadways meet it is called thurling). Then the awful truth dawned. Jacko and the team were off to the cooler, East Side of the pit. For me, they had a treat in store, I was to stay on Kl9s and install the face. Then I was to be the leading coalface electrician and bring the face back, on retreat. They thought it was only fair, that after all the hard work, I should see the job through, like it was an honour. The rotten sods had no idea that KI9s would be a killer face. How many mates would we have to carry out? |
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Whilst we were treading treacle on the north side headings, how was the rest of the pit doing? Absolutely fabulous. In fact, the glory years of Hucknall were good but not in the same league as Ollerton. In that last year production was 1,600,000 tons of saleable coal. Accident rates were at an all time low. Bonus payments were at an all time high. They used to cut coal on Sunday nights, for mega money. £200-£400 each man per shift. I had several Sunday nights on bonus and it was hard graft. Sweating, with a dust mask on, ear defenders and goggles on too. It was squat on a hydraulic chock base, operate the valve to lower off then onto pull it in then to blow it up. All the while a constant curtain of coal was falling. Then it was onto the next chock and do the same thing again. It doesn't sound too onerous does it? On each run there were 160 chocks to pullover, we used to do 4 runs in a good shift. That's 640 chocks, 2 men pulling over, which are 320 each and that's graft, hard graft. It probably worked out at £1 per chock. When the pit is doing well, contracts are around every corner. One Sunday night I was with Jacko and the boys, pulling chocks from K4s face across to K3s face. The contract was £50 per chock, per man. We did 10, work it out for yourself and that was in 1994. I could barely stand up by the end, when the dayshift relieved us. Greed is a terrible mistress. |