大象传媒

I joined the Port Bristol Authority as a junior clerk during 1943. I dreamed of joining the Royal Air Force at 18, so I joined the Air Training Corps (ATC) in Bristol at the age of seventeen and a half. At this time I applied to the RAF Air/Sea Rescue service, but while waiting for the call-up it was discovered that my eyesight was not good enough.

It was then, on 24th July 1944, that I received my call-up papers for 鈥楳inistry of Labour 鈥� National Service Emergency Powers鈥� document for one month鈥檚 training at Blackwood in Monmouthshire. This was for coal mining. It was instant, I was now an Ernest Bevin Boy; you were chosen by a ballot, which was done in a monthly draw and was decided on the last digit on your National Registration number.

The Emergency Powers had come in during December 1943, when it had been realised that only three weeks鈥� supply of coal remained, and they had to bring in these 鈥楧esperate Measures鈥�. There were no exclusions: in fact, there were 500 prosecutions for refusal to comply, and of these 147 were imprisoned. In two years of the scheme, 22,000 were called to the mines.

At first I went to Oakdale Government Training Centre in Monmouthshire for four weeks. This was 鈥榩laying at coal mines鈥�; we learned the physical side, the safety side, the classroom side. That seemed OK to me; I thought: 鈥榠t could be worse鈥�. And it was!

From this training we went directly to Penallta Colliery on 29th August 1944. I was on the
Two to ten shift, 鈥榯hrown into the hole鈥�, so to speak. It was absolute hell, and I wondered how long it was going to be for. I worked with experienced miners, but as they were on a bonus system, they were not too happy with me along.

The first 50 of you got into a cage to go down (about the height of a suspension bridge). It went down about the rate of 33 ft per second. The bottom was bright and well lit, but then there was a one mile walk through dark tunnels carrying a lamp, our 鈥榮nap鈥� tin (food), and four pints of water, dressed in very old clothes and wearing a helmet. I was ready for a sit down, but we had seven hours of work ahead of us, and it started right away. I thought: 鈥榃ill I last til 10 o鈥檆lock?鈥� and then, 鈥榓nd this, five days a week!鈥�.

At the Coal Face

The system for conveying the coal from the coal face was called the Heading and Stall system, as opposed to the Conveyor Belt system. The miners broke coal down from the coal face while I was behind filling 10 cwt tubs by shovel and even by hand. Large lumps were preferred because there was most profit in them. The atmosphere was warm and dusty 鈥� we didn鈥檛 have masks. The pit ponies ran two to four trucks to the main Hallway, which was not far, and then the coal went by mechanical haulage to the pit bottom.

I didn鈥檛 see any other Bevin Boys at this pit face; they were scattered over eight miles of tunnels. Miners were paid on output, so there was little time for rest, and our lunch was eaten on the spot. You had to look out for rodents, and even pit ponies took your food if you were careless! There were no set toilet facilities, these were just 鈥榳henever, wherever鈥�. The pit ponies were the miners鈥� best friend; if the lights failed, you just followed the ponies.

At the end of the shift you had to walk a mile back to the pit bottom. I was grateful that my coal seam was 6鈥�7鈥� high; some were much smaller. We went back up in the cage, and there was the bonus of pithead baths (built in 1938). Modesty had to be forgotten in the midst of 250 washing miners! We put on clean clothes after the bath to go home, but our dirty clothes were left in a locker, and washed infrequently.

Leisure time

We returned to the miners鈥� hostel 鈥� Nissen huts. Occasionally we went to the local Picture House; I remember seeing The Great Dictator. I went home every weekend by bus to Newport, by train to Ashley Hill station, and then walked to my parents鈥� home in Horfield. There was also a reluctance to go back on Sunday night (or Monday morning if I was on the two to ten shift). Although conscripted, I was still a civilian, earning a wage. Absenteeism was very high, including myself on occasion, though usually with a doctor鈥檚 note.

This was my life for 13 months from July 1944 to August 1945. At this time I was dismissed from the mines out of the blue. I assume this was on medical grounds, as I had given in a number of sick notes for colds, coughs, sore backs and so on.

A new Call-up

I was on the dole for two weeks, and reported to the Bristol Labour Exchange. Within two weeks I was called for a medical, which I passed A1! This was followed by a second call-up, this time for the army. No complaints here; I had got out of the mines, that was the main thing. Even the perk of extra soap and clothing coupons did not improve working in the coal mines.

I then served in the R.A.S.C., training at Colchester for six weeks, and then sent to India, Ceylon (Sri Lanka), and Singapore, the eventual destination. The war was over by then, the Japanese had surrendered. This was from 1945 to November 1947, when I was demobbed when my de-mob number came up.

The Irony of Peacetime

The government had guaranteed all servicemen and women would be eligible to have their civilian jobs back after their Service. In my case this meant a guaranteed job back in the South Wales coalfield. This was not popular, as I had been only too pleased to get out of there in 1945!

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