大象传媒

To Continue.

For a prop to be accepted the correct length was essential and it was an experience to watch the colliers using their extremely sharp axes, just like lumber jacks, to prepare them. Each prop had to sit on something firm at the base, usually a piece of wood - often a piece cut off the original and split lengthwise and the other half would be hammered into place between the top of the prop and the roof, - these pieces were called "Cleats".

Since British timber was very unpopular as well as in short supply anyway, someone,- certainly totally unconnected with practical mining - thought up steel supports, which proved to be like miniature "H" section girders. Obviously these could not be cut to size so using them involved considerable improvisation which again was very time consuming and unpopular. They were also downright dangerous in that wooden props would gradually accept the increasing weight of the lowering roof and gave warning of any movement with its creaking. The steel replacements could not and all to often served to break up the roof, as well as being forced out of position. If two or three should be dislodged all at one time in close proximity, there could be real trouble. Another hazard was that should you be too close to one when it came adrift, you could receive a nasty knock - I know I did.

Another job I had was in the return road which as its name suggests allows the air from the production part of the mine to return, completing the circulatory system. In parts this was barely four feet high but then it could open up into what seemed by comparison a veritable cavern all of fifteen feet high. Although this was cut out of solid rock it still required supports so here they used "Rings". These were of steel, in two halves which made up an inverted "U" shaped support fixed at the top by bolts through a fishplate and strips of wood were cut and jammed into place between the rock and the metal. It was here that I met with my only major injury.

Another collier and myself had to bring a huge timber prop (it was virtually a twelve foot high tree) into the high area via the four foot passage. I was landed with the thicker (roof) end and having negotiated the four foot passage with nothing more than a scraped backbone we straitened up in the cavern and put the timber down, fate decreed that one of my right hand fingers became trapped between a large stone and the ground and the tree and I received what Trevor the First Aid man called a "Burst". The inside of my finger literally Burst out the top of my finger like a squeezed tube of toothpaste only fatter and rounder and beautifully pink against the rest of my coal black hand. It hurt and Trevor decided it was too complicated for him to handle so I would require the Doctors attention. He put on a bandage and I then had to find my way back to the pit bottom to be wound up. There was no question of stopping the coal movements so I had to travel solo with just the light provided by my unreliable lamp all the time avoiding full and empty drams whizzing past while I took cover when necessary in specially provided refuges cut into the sides of the tunnel. This nightmare plus the increasing pain from the injury made it a day to remember. Eventually I made it and then had to wait while the full and empty drams occupying the cage were dealt with before I could be wound up and receive medical attention.

I was told I had qualified for "Comp" (compensation) which meant I was off work with a meagre injury benefit to keep me going. I caught the first available transport home and had three glorious weeks freedom whilst my own G.P. Dr Lewis coaxed the protruding flesh back into place (I still bear the scar). The mine manager wrote to him to ask why the treatment was taking so much longer than they thought it should. Dr Lewis replied in his own inimitable Irish way. I would loved to see this letter since he was very "anti" the Bevin Boy call up system and very out - spoken.

The only break we were allowed was for food - a far from generous twenty minutes. This was always sandwiches in a metal "snap tin", usually Cheese for which we received extra rations. Liquid refreshment was a corked metal flask of water or cold tea since no glass or alcohol was permitted underground and we just sat where we worked. Even though the machinery was shut down and there was much less dust in evidence our sandwiches were pretty black from our filthy hands. we were often joined by mice who were very aware that there would always be something for them.

There were no toilet facilities and any calls of nature were committed on the go. Due to the direction of the air flow, it depended upon where you were working in relation to the offender - to the left or the right - as to whether you shared the after effects of his bowl movements or not.
There was one huge collier who was always address as Big Jim who was quite a bit older than his co-workers and who had a belly second to none due largely to his reputed ten points at least every night at the Miners Institute. This regular daily use of the gut was greeted with unprintable comments all the way down the face.

As we worked six days a week, at the weekend I caught the 4.30 Saturday evening Red and White (a Western Welsh) bus in Blackwood which delivered me to Newport railway Station in time to catch a stopping train to my local station at Horfield (Bristol). I returned as late as possible on Sunday evening catching the last bus from Newport up the valley to Blackwood, always facing the problem that the queue might fill al the bus seats- it often ran very close to doing so in the summer months.

When the mines were nationalised on January 1st 1946 we were given a five day week plus a 拢5 = 00 = 00 a week (at 21) minimum wage and the bonus of pithead baths. These meant you went to work in clean clothes, changed into working kit in the locker rooms and the reverse at the end of the shift. As a result you took home your filthy work gear just once a week on Fridays, a huge advantage to miners wives as well. In the bath's cubicles there were hot showers and it surprised me how modest most of the miners were about their nakedness - many washing with one hand the other being used for concealment - so unlike my earlier experience with Mrs. Walters - something of a role reversal?

Another change that came with nationalisation was the mechanical coal cutter which undercut the seam. It was something of a mixed blessing for me working on the "Box" since it made more dust though this was partially reduced by the liberal use of water in the process. Since the actual cutting was done on the night shift, the colliers came into work with part of their work done for them but many were not happy with working in the wet sloppy sludge. There was also the odd occasion when a collier got really stuck in and the piece of coal which came away was much larger than expected - due to the undercut - and they had to be pretty nimble on their feet when this happened. Of course the machine cutter had to be paid for , so new rates were brought in for paying the face workers - another bone of high contention which rumbled on and on.

It was apparent that the Walters were drifting apart and the climax came for me when he came home one evening apparently very drunk (I was long since in bed) and told his wife that he wanted me out of the house without delay. I was back in Oakdale Hostel within days which was a bit of a blow because the village itself had little to offer apart from the rather old fashioned Picture House and the Miners Institute, the first being a poor substitute for the Maxime in Blackwood and the Institute, apart from the library and reading room did not appeal. The Hostel by now was home to large numbers of displaced persons, mostly poles, who had had mining training in Scotland since many had been miners in their home country. They spoke English with a Polish/Scottish accent which many of the local Welsh girls found a fascinating combination and those Bevin Boys who had earlier enjoyed their company now faced considerable competition.

Our Demob (demobilisation) system was virtually the same as that of the armed forces, a number based on the month of call-up and my group eventually reached this happy situation in February 1948. Since we had always been civilians all through our service period we did not qualify for a gratuity or a Demob suit. Our freedom to go and do what we chose, within the scope of service conditions, which was denied the Armed Services more than compensated. Miners working and living conditions were for us an eye-opener to another world which was I hope to our mutual benefit.

When I resumed civilian work I was employed as a buyer for a steel and ironmongers as a buyer. But that's another story.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.