A Mortuary

Meanwhile the manager realising he had a full-scale rescue operation on his hands contacted Stoke Central Rescue Station, which served several collieries and had a permanent staff on call 24 hours a day. In less than no time mining officials, engineers, medical units, ambulances, highly trained rescue brigades and police were on their way to Halmerend.

Barriers had been erected around the colliery to facilitate access and exit and to control the crowds who gathered. Every available space and accommodation in the village was requisitioned. The Primitive Methodist Church room, which was to have been the setting for the old folks party, became, instead, a mortuary.

News of the explosion spread like wildfire, people ran out on to the streets; mothers clutching babes to their breast with one hand and tugging toddlers with the other, hobbled to the Minnie pit. Bleary-eyed nightshift workers, roused from their sleep, dressed horridly and hastened to the pit. The sinister black canopy of acrid smoke hovering like a spectre of death over Podmore, told them all they wanted to know.

It was heart rendering to witness the grief of all concerned. Many of them had several of their families in the pit. The managing director of the colliery Mr. W. Hill of Apedale Hall, mines inspectors; messrs Bull, Saint, Clive, Felton and Walker, local colliery managers, all eager to help with their expertise, were soon on the spot. Highly trained rescue teams, eager to descend the shaft, reported for duty. The first to descend the shaft was the Minnie pit rescue team, with instructions to venture inbye as far as prudent to repair broken ventilation doors, so that air might circulate according to plan, without which rescue work would be impossible and men would suffocate.

Charles Jebb had arrived home from his night shift at the Minnie pit. His brothers George age 22 and Percy, who had just left school, had gone down in the day shift. Everything was peaceful and Mr Jebb was thinking about getting a well-deserved rest, but it was not to be. For at 9.45 am an explosion ripped through the Bullhurst seam. News spread round the village quickly and as soon as he heard, Charles Jebb, despite the fact he had been working thought the night, rushed to the pit head to offer his assistance. Mr Jebb who is 82 (when interviewed 1974) and lives with his wife Elsie age 81 at 13 Atholl Rd. Dresden, can clearly recall the turmoil and bewilderment of those minutes after his arrival at the pit.

There were 247 men and boys on the 6 am shift that morning and Mr Jebb remembers the scenes of jubilation among the relatives when their loved ones were found to be alive. But there was fear and terror in the eyes of others as husbands, boy friends, and sons were feared lost

Mr Jebb was in the first rescue team to descend. Messages were continually relayed to the surface to let the gathering crowds know the greave situation. Rescue work was extremely difficult because of the dust and gas. There was a need to explore and restore the ventilation. Although some of the bodies had been burnt and were not easily recognised, some were well preserved and Mr Jebb was able to identify his two brothers when he found them sitting up against the roadway wall, in the act of eating their sandwiches.

One man we found had a pocket watch, which had stopped at 9.45. It was a long arduous job before the last victim was brought out, David Leighton age 20 at 9.30 on August 19 th 1919.

Mr Jebb said the disaster and recovery of the bodies did not deter him from carrying on with his career as a miner. When he finished the job at the Minnie he was transferred to Florence colliery.

After an hour the team returned to the surface with a dozen survivors, all suffering from shock, injury and the effects of choke damp. The captain’s report was most concerting, large sections of the roadways had caved in, the whole atmosphere underground reeked with gas and as far as he could ascertain, the explosion “had ripped the guts out of the Banbury and Bulhurst seams”. He was afraid there would be very few survivors.

Crawled Out

But some miners, depending on their location in the pit, were more fortunate. Even while the Captain was giving his doleful report, 47 men and boys and their deputy Charles Greatbatch, were crawling almost vertically, slowly and painfully up though the dark and steep grades of the Rearers to the old pit shaft at Miles Green. Some of grades the in the Rearers had a gradient of one in two. The shock wave of the explosion hit the Bullhurst South Rearers with a spanking slap and the sound like the flapping of heavy canvas in a gale. Dust soot and debris were scattered over a wide area. Cries of pain, coughing and spluttering followed by a babble of hoarse voices, indicated panic. “Stay where you are!” yelled Greatbatch. Don’t go back into the workings for your clothes and for God’s sake don’t panic. The vehemence of his voice steadied the group and gave him time to warn them of their disturbing predicament.

The explosion had cut them off from the pit bottom and the rest on the mine. They were now he warned caught like rats in a trap, but to behave like undisciplined men and run blindly out of the area would sign their death warrant. Unfortunately one boy panicked and ran off in the direction of the Minnie pit bottom only to die in the poisonous atmosphere. You’re the boss Charlie agreed the men, impressed by his coolness and calm.

He then went on to explain his plan, the one and only hope of survival. Fortunately, the Rearers had its own air current and were therefore independent of the Minnie air supply. By shortcutting their own air this would create a temporary air pocket, which would keep at bay the noxious gas. To short circuit the current he would have to open, partially, the separation doors between the intake and return air. But he cautioned them they would have only two hours respite. Sporadic roof falls close by and suspicion of chokedamp, hastened the groups decision. “Its an even break” commented a survivor of the 1915 explosion, who spoke from experience. We might make it and then again we might not. But if we remain here we shall certainly die.