We knew as we walked to work that cold, misty morning that
something was happening, the air cackled with anticipation. For days there’d
been rumour and counter rumour, talk of 20 pits to close, talk of 70 pits to
close. But this morning the air was thick with gossip, rumour was turning into
fact, pits were going to close.
Despite the impeding bad news there were plenty of smiles, lots of laughs, gallows humour, humour in the face of adversity. We didn’t know the exact number, but whatever the number, whether it was 1 or 70 we all knew we’d fight to save every man’s job, we couldn’t let that bitch and her cronies win. The closures were being announced today; industrial action was inevitable. News reached us that the shop stewards had called a mass meeting to take place before the shift began, we all knew there would be no paid work today.
We stood there in our white helmets and blue overalls listening to the rabble-rousers as they made their cases for war. Men all around me cheered like girls at a Beatles concert as our leaders talked of the battle ahead of us. Clear blue sky had replaced the mist, serious faces had replaced the smiles, faces that meant business. I looked into the eyes of my colleagues, my comrades and saw that they were ready for conflict, we were brothers in arms.
Was this what it was like in 1914 when our brave soldiers went over the top; love, respect and a feeling of doing it for each other, all for one, one for all? We had to stick together and just like we worked together, we had to strike together. There were tears in the eyes of grown men. I could see determination, fear, bravery, heart, and uncertainty in their eyes. We were on the edge of a precipice, looking down into the abyss. But there was no question of backing down.
Meeting over, silence replaced the cheers, working men huddled together, contemplating what was to come. I trusted these men with my life, I knew this was going to be an almighty conflict with a hated enemy. A battle to save our way of life; I knew we would fight and knew we would win.
Despite the impeding bad news there were plenty of smiles, lots of laughs, gallows humour, humour in the face of adversity. We didn’t know the exact number, but whatever the number, whether it was 1 or 70 we all knew we’d fight to save every man’s job, we couldn’t let that bitch and her cronies win. The closures were being announced today; industrial action was inevitable. News reached us that the shop stewards had called a mass meeting to take place before the shift began, we all knew there would be no paid work today.
We stood there in our white helmets and blue overalls listening to the rabble-rousers as they made their cases for war. Men all around me cheered like girls at a Beatles concert as our leaders talked of the battle ahead of us. Clear blue sky had replaced the mist, serious faces had replaced the smiles, faces that meant business. I looked into the eyes of my colleagues, my comrades and saw that they were ready for conflict, we were brothers in arms.
Was this what it was like in 1914 when our brave soldiers went over the top; love, respect and a feeling of doing it for each other, all for one, one for all? We had to stick together and just like we worked together, we had to strike together. There were tears in the eyes of grown men. I could see determination, fear, bravery, heart, and uncertainty in their eyes. We were on the edge of a precipice, looking down into the abyss. But there was no question of backing down.
Meeting over, silence replaced the cheers, working men huddled together, contemplating what was to come. I trusted these men with my life, I knew this was going to be an almighty conflict with a hated enemy. A battle to save our way of life; I knew we would fight and knew we would win.
If you enjoyed that, why not buy my new novel
Maggie’s Milkman? It is now available on Kindle - search Amazon 'Milkman Gareth Davies’ (the links are different in different countries)
and on other ebook readers at -
Enjoy
By the way see my interview about the book here
Is "Dai" a Welsh name? I have never seen it before (apart from Maggie's Milkman)
ReplyDeleteYes it is short for David, lot’s of welsh david’s are known as Dai
ReplyDelete