THE DAY THE EARTH OPENED

0 - 0 • Published 23 Oct 2008 12:30

COMMUNITIES throughout Cumnock and the Doon Valley were built upon the once prosperous industries of coal, iron and cotton.

This provided more than employment and a sustainable local economy for the developing areas - it created a way of life, driven by a spirit that was shared through the good and the bad.

This strongly held and highly regarded bond has, in the past, been tested to its limits and none more so than the horrific accident at Knockshinnoch Castle Colliery in New Cumnock.

With a valley whose apparent wealth lies tens of feet below the surface of the ground, families relished the prospect of having more than one wage earner in the household, as fathers and sons took up jobs in the pits.

But with this stability came a heart-felt terror that with one sudden accident, especially in such a volatile work place, a family - or for that matter a whole community - could be left without their menfolk.

The harrowing episode at Knockshinnoch on Thursday September 7 1950 saw New Cumnock unite in anguish as emergency services battled for three days in an epic rescue bid to save 129 men trapped 37 feet below the surface.

The fateful day had started as any other for the men on the afternoon shift. However something was different. A day and night of torrential rain had turned the ground at Wilson"s field above the Number 5 Heading into a mass of saturated sludge and unleashed a chain of events that would entomb 116 men and kill 13 and launch a full scale emergency.

It would also become one of the greatest rescue operations ever seen in the history of the mining industry and the first using 'Salvus" breathing apparatus to shepherd the miners in small teams through a methane filled chamber out of the darkness.

And it earned two local men, Andrew Houston and David Park, bravery awards for their great human effort throughout the lengthy ordeal.

The men had been working in the No: 5 Heading; a passage high, wide and steeply inclined, moving up towards the surface without realising that they were ploughing straight towards a vast reservoir of liquid peat. Some men even joked at the time about being able to walk right out of the mine as they were so close to the surface.

But the peat was not marked on the mine plan - although it had been shown on the geological survey. However, this meant that those who knew the colliers were nearing the surface had no idea about the peat and those who knew about the peat did not know the colliers position.

And so the miners were blindly driving forward into the jaws of a dark, wet, avalanche of peat.

During the course of the day a roof fall had been reported and colliery overman Andrew Houston telephoned his manager W.C. Halliday and both men proceeded to inspect the field above the heading. Houston soon located a shallow depression and arrangements were made to have a work party fence the hollow allowing Houston to inspect the situation underground.

But around 7.30pm that evening, the gates of hell opened and thousands of tons of darkened sludge poured relentlessly into the no: 5 section, trapping 116 men at the junction of the belt and blocking a further 13 men in the gallery.

There had initially been 135 men below the surface when the accident happened, but six of them managed to escape through the downcast shaft before it became chocked.

The alarm was raised by then 17-year-old apprentice Douglas Blackwood, who had been in the engineers workshop ready to start the night shift when the call came from the miners trapped in West Mine Turn.

In a close-knit community like New Cumnock, news of the accident spread with the same speed and intensity as the inrush itself.

And within a short time mining rescue teams from pits throughout Ayrshire and Lanarkshire and volunteers, including the Salvation Army, arriving in cars, lorries, cycles and by foot from across the district rallied in unprecedented numbers to offer any assistance they could to help free the entombed men from the ground.

Tractors, lorries and farmcarts were used to transport tons of hay along a length of bogey track, constructed by the volunteers, leading up to the massive crater on the surface to try and plug the peat in an attempt to prevent any further inrush to the mine.

Meanwhile deliberations between the mines" inspectors, engineers and other NCB officials revealed that the only chance to successfully free the trapped men was through the disused adjacent working at Bank Six. This section of the pit was well known as it had been sunk much earlier as a drift mine to the south-west of Knockshinnoch.

And years before, a narrow exploratory passage known as Waterhead Dook had been pushed into the coal to within a few yards of the road in the old Bank six workings.

It was the only conceivable means of escape - but as explained to the men it would be no primrose path as there was a likelihood of poisonous gases within the chamber making the air unfit to breath.

Fears of gas being present were soon confirmed so large fans were ferried down the pit in an attempt to disperse it. But they were too late, the deadly fumes had already formed an invisible yet impenetrable wall.

This had become the rescue teams" greatest problem, for the fresh air base they had set up was a half mile walk from the dook at Bank 6 and the men, who were already greatly fatigued, could not make the distance.

But it was still the only way to liberate the men.

Volunteers underground, with strict instructions, began to dig through the 24ft seam of coal that separated them from the disused bank six and the lethal mix of gas, while rescue teams worked from the other side.

The distinct chipping from bank six must have been a welcome sound to the trapped men as it brought a glimmer of hope that their release was in sight.

But the problem of the gas chamber was still paramount in the rescue plans. For they had to ensure that the flow of air was heading in the right direction and not straight into the Waterhead Dook where the men were waiting.

Therefore, it was agreed that the men on both sides would continue to tunnel their three foot hole as far as they could and when the signal was given, rescue teams would break through to the other side - quickly checking the flow of air before proceeding.

Luckily air was being drawn back into the gas chamber and not into the men which allowed a volunteer using breathing apparatus to make it down into the dook at 11pm on Friday with supplies of food and drink as well as warm blankets for the men inside.

The gas eventually started seeping through the hole and it had to be sealed up temporarily while full rescue plans were ensued.

The events that unfolded at Knockshinnoch created many heroes, among them Deputy Director of Labour for the Scottish Division of NCB, David Park. He was an Ayrshire man born and bred and had a firm knowledge of the mine and its workers.

Almost immediately he arrived from Edinburgh to offer his help and assistance. The officials needed the men to understand what was happening on the surface and needed a volunteer to go into the mine to tell them.

David promptly put himself forward for the job and promised that he would stay with the men until the very end and he was true to his promise.

The teams on the surface had found the answer to their problems of getting the men through the gas filled chamber - for if one man could get through using breathing apparatus then so could the others.

But the men had not been trained in using this equipment and the officials feared that their unpreparedness could provoke panic, but they had no other choice so brief training was given to the men before they set off.

The men were separated into groups of three, with the sickest going first. Rescue teams became human lamp-posts lining the gas chambers to light the way home.

And the first teams made the long walk to freedom.

The first man to reach the surface was 19-year-old Gilbert McAughtrie of Ashnock, New Cumnock. More men were freed in groups aided by the rescue teams expertly trained in the use of the 50 sets of breathing apparatus that were sent down the mine.

The remaining men followed at regular intervals either walking or being stretchered out and were quickly examined by doctors and medical assistants.

And by 1.30am on that weary Sunday morning, the last of the 116 men trapped at the junction of the belt reached the cool, fresh September air.

Sixty-six men were conveyed to Ballochmyle Hospital while others were treated on site with oxygen.

But for many of them, their ordeal was far from over, as they collected themselves and headed back down the pit they had been trapped in for over three days in search of the 13 friends and colleagues still entombed.

And on Monday evening, hope for those 13 men turned to despair as the Chief Inspector of mines revealed there was no chance of getting these men out alive.

But more sadness was to come.

For two Salvation Army workers, Arthur Morris, 26, and his fiance 23-year-old Iris Wyllie who had operated a canteen, had been heading back to their home in Saltcoats when they were killed as their vehicle collided with a milk lorry between Dreghorn and Irvine.

Knockshinnoch will always be remembered for unfaltering acts of bravery, selflessness and devotion above and beyond the call of duty of the people involved both on the surface and underground.

And to this day, it will be a prominent part of local history not only for the rescue of noble and heroic proportions, but also because it left its mark on mining regulations across the country.

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This article appeared in Cumnock Chronicle 23 Oct 08

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