"Phone shack. Who's this?"
"Hi, April. Wilhelm here. You know Wilhelm Metzinger. Second-year electrician apprentice? I'm at east section one at crosscut six."
"Hello there, Wilhelm. Is Deitrich with you?"
Metzinger frowned. Always Deitrich. The girls just seemed to like him more. He sighed. "Nein, he stayed with the others. He sent me to see what was going on. We heard and felt something, and our ears popped. He thought I could handle it on my own."
"That's nice, Wilhelm. I just talked to Stacks and he doesn't know anything either. But he did say that you guys were goin' to have to come out soon 'cause we don't have power. You probably didn't even notice it down there, but the phones have a battery backup so we can still stay in production. They're trying to get the generator working. Apparently it's too cold or something."
"Should we keep working, or should we come out?"
"Give me a minute, Wilhelm. I want to talk to Stacks. He's not answering his phone, so I need to go see him. Just hold on; I'll be back in two shakes."
Wilhelm looked at the phone. How long was two shakes, he wondered. He passed the time looking around in the darkness, adjusting his cap lantern, and finally scraping patterns in the dusty floor, when he heard an unusual noise over the phone line. There was scratching and line static, and then it sounded like labored breathing. Metzinger listened intently. He finally heard a scratchy voice.
"Help . . . this is Willy. Men trapped, west cuts twenty-two, crosscut, roof fall, trapped . . . this is Willy, men trapped, west cuts twenty-two, crosscut, roof fall, trapped.
Metzinger was stunned. "Willy? This is Wilhelm. What is going on? Willy, do you hear me?"
"Wilhelm? Men trapped, west cuts twenty-two, crosscut, roof fall . . ." His voice was getting weaker.
"Stay on the line, Willy. April will be right back. I need to tell Deitrich. Do you hear me? Stay on the line. April will be right back. Willy. You must stay on the line." Metzinger left the phone off of the hook and began to sprint back to Deitrich.
* * *
April was beginning to get frustrated as she banged on the door of the control shed. "Goddammit, Stacks, it's cold as hell out here. Open the damn door. Why the hell aren't you answering your phone or radio? You hear me? Open up!"
"Sorry, sweeth—uhh, April. I got three phone lines going at once here." She could hear him reach the door, and begin to open it. "Damn thing's froze shut. Gimme a second here, let me—" The door flew inward and April felt the rush of warm air from the shack. It felt very good. She jumped through the door and he closed it behind her.
"Goddammit, Stacks. You need to answer your radio and phone. I talked to Metzinger and he didn't know what was up with the noise. Wants to know if we should pull them out or leave them in."
"How the hell should I know, April? We need to ask Fred and Fred. You answer the phones for a minute, let me get to them on the radio."
She planted her hands on her hips and glared. "Listen, you dummy. I ain't supposed to leave my phones unattended. And you are not a goddam answering service for anyone calling this place from the outside. Let them ring. Find out about the generator and let me know what to do with those guys." She tugged open the door and stomped out into the cold light of morning.
April trotted back to the phone shack. When she got to her post, she was surprised to discover Metzinger was no longer on the line, but she could tell that the phone was off the hook. She called to him several times over the open line and got no answer. She then noticed a background noise that wasn't there before. The signal to noise ratio sounded—well, it didn't sound right. She scratched her head and looked up at the old phone relay board.
"That's odd." She leaned back in her chair, and stared at the panel. "This thing acts like I got more than one phone open here." She pulled her electronic test meter out of the desk drawer. One last check for Wilhelm first.
"Wilhelm, are you out there? Can you hear me? Wilhelm? Dammit, answer me." She put the phone down and began to check resistance readings through the switch circuits.
* * *
Deitrich was growing impatient waiting for Wilhelm to return. It had been over twenty minutes since he left and it was taking far too long. He should have been back by now. He pulled his pocket watch out for the third time in five minutes, and then stuffed it back in his pants. Something just felt wrong. The power had gone out before, and the mine never behaved in this way.
Maybe it was all of the new guys that were making him jittery. There. He'd said it. Well, thought it. He was jittery. That thought made him angry. When Metzinger got back he was going to tear him a new asshole for being slow and lazy. Deitrich heard the returning footfalls and took a breath, ready to verbally rip strips of flesh from his hide. Then he saw Metzinger's face and lost all thought of abusing him.
Metzinger gulped for air and leaned on Deitrich for support. He must have run all the way back. Metzinger gasped. "Willy—Ernst, roof fall by the west coalface. That must have been what we heard. Needs help. Men are trapped. We need to get over there."
"Are you sure?"
Metzinger sat down on the floor and nodded, still gasping for air. "Yah. I heard it from Willy. I was on the phone with April, and he picked up. His voice was very faint." By now some of the other miners had come over to listen to the conversation. A canteen of water was pushed in his hand and he drank deeply.
"What's up, Deitrich?" asked one of the apprentices. Several others chimed in. "What's going on? A roof fall? Where was it? What did he say . . ."
Deitrich growled at the group. "Quiet. Give us some room. You talked to Willy, right? Metzinger nodded. "When you were on the phone with April, right? Metzinger nodded again. "Where was Willy; did he say what phone he was calling from?"
"West face." Metzinger struggled to his feet. "We gotta help them, boss. Willy sounded bad."
"Okay." Deitrich thought for a moment then straightened. "Everyone. Listen up. We have a situation. From what we know, there has been a roof fall at the other end of the mine. We're going to see what we can do. Grab any tool and first aid kits you see along the way. We're gonna double-time it over there and see what we can do to help. Everyone. Let's go. Now."
The guys working further away had trickled to the group and as Deitrich began to turn away, they fell in behind him. Metzinger stood to follow and Deitrich hesitated. "Good job, Wilhelm. Rest for a moment, then catch up to us when you can."
Metzinger looked relieved. "Okay, boss. I'm getting a hell of a cramp in my legs. Thanks."
Deitrich turned and began to jog. His old rally cry from the battlefield came to mind. "To me, men!" he half growled and half shouted. "To me!"
* * *
"This is damn odd." April scratched her nose and looked at the chart. The chart gave resistance readings for the phone wires. Generally, it was accurate. The more wire in a certain direction, the higher the number. The less wire, the lower the number. Her readings indicated that the phone where she talked to Metzinger was off the hook and was at the end of the line for that circuit. That made sense from what she knew. But on the west circuit, according to her chart, there weren't enough phones. One of them was off the hook, and it was like the wire ended at that phone. She knew there were more, at least three beyond that. She scratched her nose again.
The radio on her bench cracked to life. "Hey, April. This is control. You still got Metzinger on the line?" She ignored it for a moment, deep in concentration, and it cracked again. "April, you copy? C'mon, you're not still mad at me are you?"
She snatched the radio off of the bench. "Stand by, Stacks. I think I got a problem here. Can you give me a couple seconds?"
"Sure can, sweetheart."
She didn't even notice that he called her sweetheart again.
* * *
Deitrich and his men had run beyond the telephone that Wilhelm had left hanging and past the main lift station. There was a steady rhythm of men breathing hard, and the cap lights flickering. Each light made a bouncing and flut
tering U-shape in the darkness. Occasionally, a light would go to the roof, sometimes to the ribs, sometimes to other miners. They ran in silence, an oddly illuminated chain of lights, panting and passing through the passages.
Darkness was briefly pushed out of their path as they ran and then slipped in behind them as they passed. The deeper they went, the darker it seemed to get. There was more dust in the air at this end of the mine, so their dim cap lights pushed less and less of the darkness away. Deitrich was focused on getting there as fast as possible, and he didn't notice it until one of the new men called out.
"Deitrich! Do you smell smoke?"
He slowed and looked hard at the roof of the mine, looking for a visible trace of the smoke. Without the ventilation, it would cling to the roof, instead of mixing like it normally would. It smelled like burning wood. Why would there be a smell of burning wood for a roof fall? He slowed to a walk for a moment. Maybe something else is going on? Ahead he saw one of the green lights for the telephone on the wall, and decided to stop there.
It was there they found Willy. He was alive, but in bad shape and unconscious. Deitrich told two of his guys to get him on a stretcher and back to the lift station.
Deitrich stared at the phone for a moment. Something was odd. It was off the hook. He picked up the receiver and held it to his ear. He heard clicking sounds, and a sound like someone moving around a room. He hung it up and re-signaled the phone room.
"Phone shack. Who's this?"
"April, this is Deitrich"
"Deitrich? What the hell is going on down there? I was talking to Metzinger and he just took off and left the phone off the hook back on the west end. This phone was off the hook, now you're on it, and it doesn't appear that there's any phones active inby from you. And did you guys hear that bump down there?"
"One thing at a time. I have an injured miner, and a possible roof fall over by where Ernst is working. It sounds like you don't know about Willy?"
"Willy? No, I don't. What's up with Willy?"
"He's injured. Badly. I'm sending him topside with two men. We found him at the phone. Did you not talk to him? It would have been right after you talked to—wait, April. I need to think." Deitrich pushed his hard hat back on his sweaty forehead and tried to think clearly. He shook his head and made a decision.
"April. I don't know what the hell is going on down here. All I have is that Metzinger said that he heard Willy on the phone and there was a roof fall down there. And now I smell smoke. And we got no goddamn power down here. I'm going to take this crew and head down to the old working face and see if there's something we can do. You let Stacks know what we're up to, and I'll call as soon as I know something."
"Okay, Deitrich. But I know that they were talking about pulling you guys out until we got some power back."
"I'm wasting time talking to you. We're going to help Ernst. I'll let you know if everyone is okay." He hung up the phone and ignored it when it started to ring. He didn't have time to argue with April. Deitrich turned on his heel and began to walk down the passage toward the working face, where he knew that something was wrong. The smell of smoke grew stronger.
After another two hundred meters, they began to notice unusual damage. The seals had been damaged in the cross cuts. The further they went, the more damage they saw, until they were stepping over blocks and brick that had been blown out into the main passageway. Their pace slowed. The mine was now wide open on this end; all of the careful seals and brattices had been knocked down.
Deitrich began to think that what they were dealing with might be a methane explosion. Or maybe what was referred to as an "ignition," when gas would be coming out of the rock in a particular area and could form a standing flame, like the gas stove in the cafeteria. He had never seen one, but there were films. Normally an explosion would destroy an entire mine, or sector of a mine. But Willy didn't look burned. Willy had said a rock fall. Something wasn't making sense. They were still a ways from the working face when the smoke and dust started to become a visibility problem. Several men were coughing.
Deitrich looked back. "Guys, go ahead and put on your self-rescuers. They should have gone over that in class. If there's excessive carbon monoxide, this little thing—" He held up the belt mounted canister. "—changes the bad air to good." There was a rustling as the men put them on and tested them.
From the back, Zing spoke up. "Deitrich, we're not allowed to use these to fight fires; these are only for rescue, for us. If there's a fire, we're supposed to . . ."
Deitrich turned to him viciously. "Don't quote me rules, goddammit. Put it on and let's move. And keep an eye out for the injured."
* * *
Metzinger was limping badly from the cramp in his legs when he met the two men carrying Willy. Willy had been patched up when they found him, but hastily.
"Put him down, guys. Let me take a look." One of the men handed him a small first aid kit. "Scheiss, we need some light." He looked around. "Let's take him to the tool crib over there."
The tool crib was built into one of the cross cuts, and was generally locked. But there were extra carbide lights stored there, along with concrete blocks, mortar, plastic and cloth sheeting for brattices, and spares of all kinds. Even a microwave oven for heating lunches. It took them almost no time to open the gate and set Willy down on a workbench. Metzinger looked around at all the stuff in the tool crib, including the very valuable compressed air hoses for the tools.
He turned his attention to Willy. "I can handle it from here, guys. I think we just need to stop this bleeding and he should be okay. At least I hope so. He was bleeding through the old bandages." He lifted up Willy's shirt and pulled back the soaked bandages, exposing the gash in his chest that ran along the ribs. They could actually see one of the ribs. The two younger men stepped back. Metzinger pulled clean bandages from the kit and began to apply pressure, gently, to the area. Willy stirred and moaned.
"Now that's a good sign. It still hurts. If you guys want to go back and help Deitrich, I can handle this. It will take me an hour to get there at this rate. I think he needs you more than we do. Go on. I got this covered. If we move him any more, we could kill him."
The two apprentices looked at each other and headed after Deitrich. Neither of them looked like they could stand the sight of blood.
Must not be from around here, thought Metzinger.
* * *
"I need that goddamn gen-set now. We got a man injured down there and maybe a rock fall. We need the lift and the goddamn fan. We need it ten minutes ago. Do you guys copy?"
"Stacks, we'll give it a try. We've bypassed the safety controls on the generator and we're using a torch on the outside of the fuel line to try and make it flow. There isn't much more we can do that won't blow this—and us—sky-fucking-high." There was a pause. "Do you copy, Stacks?"
Stacks could clearly hear the implied "asshole" at the end of the last transmission. He didn't care. It comforted him. He knew that whatever those guys could do to get power flowing from the generator, they were doing. At their own risk, all for the guys in the mine. He responded. "Ten-four. But don't you guys get hurt. Do what you can, but. . . . Well, just do what you can, we're standing by."
Stacks opened the plant safety manual, and reviewed the procedures for an injury. Apply first aid and remove from plant. Call ambulance. If possible, continue production. That was the gist of it. Well, at least the phones had cleared up since that first bump, whatever that was. He dialed the fire department.
An operator with a pronounced German accent picked up. "Emergency services. What is the nature of your emergency?"
"This is Stacks at the mine. I got at least one injured miner down there and we're trying to evacuate him now. We're not sure of the extent of his injuries, but the information I have is that he's hurt pretty bad. We're trying to bring him out now."
"He's still in the mine?"
"Yeah, still down there. We have no power, so it will be a while before we can get him out.
"
"Do you know the extent of his injuries?"
"No, ma'am."
"Do you know when he will be on the surface?"
"Ummm. Not exactly, no, ma'am. But we're hoping pretty quick. Maybe an hour before we get him out, maybe less." He looked at the radio, hoping it would give him good news.
"Hang on, Stacks, give us a minute."
Stacks sighed as he heard the dispatcher cover the receiver on her end, and ask a muffled question. He looked at his watch. It was only nine in the morning. It seemed that this shift had already been on for twelve hours.
"Stacks, sorry, I'm back. We already have one ambulance out. Can you give us another call when you get closer to bringing him up? We don't want one just sitting there because if something else comes up, we won't be able to handle it."
"Okay. Let me log the call, and you do the same. There's always a safety review after one of these things." Stacks hung up the phone. Sometimes, doing this job, he still felt like he was up-time and everything was normal. It was a comfortable feeling. But he knew it was false. At times like this he realized how deeply in trouble they all were, and how very precarious things could be. He grabbed the radio.
"How 'boutcha, Fred and Fred. Are you gonna flow some electrons pretty quick, or am I gonna have to do it for you?" As soon as he took his finger off of the transmit button, he heard a large bang from the direction of the generator, followed by another, and then quickly followed by two more. The generator caught, stumbled, stumbled again, and started. He heard it stumble again, and imagined the guys scrambling to control it, working the throttle, nursing it until it flattened out into a steady roar. Finally, something was going right. The radio came to life as he sat down, suddenly very tired.