Bob Williamson P3

Chapter 5. Underground

As the newest apprentice, I was fair game. All of the crap jobs came my way and it must have kept them awake at night, thinking of more crap to dump on me.

The Seam Chargeman went by the rather splendid name of Branwell Bolt and he was the biggest man I had ever seen. He used to do the same thing every day, as soon as he got underground he would take from his pocket, tobacco pouch, pipe and matches. These were contraband, strictly not allowed and instant dismissal. Even though the Underground Manager knew about this, it was not a good idea to go head to head with Big Bran. I was greeted by Bran, 'What's your name'? I said, 'Robert'.

'Shit we have already got a Robert. OK then Bob, go with Alec and For Gods Sake look after him!'

So it was to be Bob or so I thought, but I hadn't banked on Alec. He turned out to be an irascible Geordie, who said, 'Pick up yon tool bag young Tom'. I was confused, who was young Tom? One of the other guys said, 'His first apprentice was Tom and he saw no reason to change, when I went with him I was young Tom. Don't let it bother you, just answer to Tom, and for Gods sake look after him'. This was day one and the youngest, I had to keep an eye on Old Alec. He was hopeless as an electrician and I would say, ‘Take a break and I will finish this Alec’. ‘Aye you are a good lad, young Tom’.

Sam, also known as Syphilitic Sam, was the deputy engineer and he wanted to see me. ‘Now you have got settled in we will put you on days and afternoons and when you reach eighteen, we will add nights as well.’ He said this with a sneer, he was such a nasty bastard! Nobody liked Sam, if he could do you a bad turn he would do so and take pleasure in the act. For example when my sister Anne had to be admitted to hospital for eye surgery, I asked Sam if I come into work on days instead of afternoons, that Friday to go to see my sister I was refused. He was just being the nasty bastard he was famed for. I double sixed him though because I asked his boss Jock Baker, who okayed it for me. Sam wasn't best pleased but all the lads thought it was great and I got to see Anne.

So began thirty years of days, afternoons then nights rotating.

In the pits at this time was a mixture of men from various backgrounds. We had Poles, Geordies, Scotsmen, Welshmen and a group of men who were conscripted to the pits, rather than the forces, during World War Two. They were known as the famous Bevin Boys and some just stayed on after the end of the war. Almost all, were Cockneys, who hadn't lost their accents.

Some of the Poles, however, didn't learn to speak English properly and communication was, sometimes a problem and sometimes funny.

Boris was a right card and one day he was talking about redheads about how they were right bastards when a big man, that we called Big John whipped off his helmet and said, 'I'm a redhead', quick as a flash Boris said, 'Ah Johnny, you decent bastard'. We laughed the entire shift with that one!

Another Pole was a belt man called Bisshou Bruno, we called him Frank. He used to spend a lot of time in electrical substations, (which were dark and quiet). We renamed him Bruno Cousteau because he spent a lot of time in subs.

When I started underground, coal production was mechanised, though they still used pit ponies, I used to save an apple for my favourites. Another old electrician was also fond of the ponies and was looking forward to the pit shut down fortnight. The ponies were brought out of the pit and turned loose on the sports field. Arthur took his grand children to see the ponies. One look at him and the ponies attacked him, he vaulted over the hedge in one flying leap. They thought he had come to take them back underground.

The old miners were good for a tale or two and would begin with, now this is true. One tale was, when a collier was thought to be able to take on a stint of ten yards, he was transferred to the face. The old man said that he was so tired that first week that he went straight home and went to bed on Friday and stayed there until Monday morning when it was time to start work again, he was so exhausted.

Another tale was of a collier that was out for a night with the boys and he was taken ill. They took him to the hospital and when the doctor examined him he thought the patient had a skin complaint. It was that he had just washed his hands and face and put a clean shirt on over his pit muck.

I progressed through my training and at college I passed the all important third year; that gave me the Mines and Quarries Board for Electricians Working in a Safety Lamp Mine. Before I could work on my own I first had to complete my apprenticeship.

We were transferred between the surface and underground. On the surface we were moved to different departments to learn all aspects of the job. I liked the surface electric shop on afternoons and nights. When all the management had left the atmosphere became more relaxed and we used to do Jarvo Jobs, (Private repair jobs unconnected with mining). They left us with some work to do and when we had completed all the jobs, our time was our own. When we weren't working we spent most of our time playing cards.

My time as an apprentice was fast drawing to an end, all that remained was to do my face training. Our training was done by the steel checkers who counted the hydraulic props to see how many they had lost, All of them were old miners put out to grass to train us youngsters on what they had spent a lifetime learning. I can't remember much about the old guys but they must have trained us well, because I'm still here, to tell the tale!

The day came, the last day of my apprenticeship and I was given a shiny new red helmet.

I was a sparky, at last!

Chapter 6. The Nitty Gritty

Well this is it, the time had arrived, and I was a sparky. I had a piece of paper that told me what I had achieved at college. I had a red helmet, which signified what my job was. I had successfully completed a five year indentured apprenticeship. I had the tool bag and test meter, looking every inch the technician. So why, was I so bloody terrified?

It's only when you are finally flying solo that you realise how little that you actually know. Now comes the hard part, to learn how to do the job whilst showing outward calm and supreme confidence.

To have an Under-manager shouting in your ear that it's costing £200 a minute and what's wrong with the sodding thing? How long will it be and you haven't got clue.

I always found it best to explain that it will take longer, if you keep hounding me. That's when you learn about pressure and you wish that you were somewhere else, anywhere but here!

I thought it would be a long time before I was reasonably competent but you learn fast, thinking on your feet. Then it comes as a surprise when the same management, staff and workmates who called you a useless twat only a few weeks before, begin to listen to what you have to say.

So it came to the first shift and it was nights. Bram Bolt was the electrical seam chargeman and he sent me to 48s face. I had been on 48s quite a few times during my training and it was the furthest face out. Which meant a 3 mile walk with plenty of time to entreat whatever God there was to give me a good shift.

All went well and then they had trouble with the face conveyor signalling system, the worst possible fault to tackle alone. So I went onto the face to look for a damaged cable. The face height was 21 inches and the roof had flushed in, which meant that the crawling way was almost blocked solid. I can remember it as though it was yesterday the memory is so vivid, throw your tool bag forward then pull yourself through on your arms. Dig out the buried signal cable, check its condition and carry on.

There were 156 hydraulic chocks on the face and it was 240 yards long. The deputy kept getting on the phone to Bram Bolt about how his lad was not performing, but Bram, God bless him, told him in a burst of industrial language where to stick his safety lamp. I was one of his boys and he had a dislike of the mining side management. He would back us up to the hilt, which gave us a strong ally.

The end of the shift arrived and the fault was still on. It was an unwritten rule, that if you had a breakdown you would stop until the next shift relieved you. I was left alone to work on in the darkness, with the nearest living soul 4 miles away.

I'd just about got the fault sorted, when a voice said, 'Shift over young 'un we are here now'. It was Reg and Cyril the dayshift electricians and I could have kissed them both.

A baptism of fire to be sure and tired to my very soul, I took the long walk down the loader- gate, to home and to bed.

Glossary of Terms

Local Pits

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