There was a need to fight, he knew that, but he saw little fight in his colleagues; only complacency and misplaced hope

MOST OF the miners lived in Inchgeich Rows and walked to the pit by a beaten path across the fields. At one time the fields had been green and softened by trees, but they were now strewn with rubble and rusting machinery and choked by spoil. A few dead or stunted trees poked the sky.

The day was fading and a group of miners slowly worked their way up the path, away from the pit. The track, known as the Colliers’ Way, wound up a steep hill; from the top there were views back to the spoil-heaps and pithead gear, and forward to the neat miners’ rows of Inchgeich down a much gentler slope of poisoned fields. The five men stopped at the top; two of them pulled out pipes and lit up. They sat down on the grass to enjoy the last of the sun. ‘There’ll be no problems,’ said one. ’They have to go ahead and sink the new shafts. There’s too much coal just to leave in the ground.’