The Drift Of Things

On January 1, 1948, we boarded the cage at 7 a.m. and were dropped to the 900 level of the Brunswick shaft. The previous evening, we had attended the New Year's party at the Miners' Guild Hall and as this soireée had not disbanded until the small hours of the morning, we had only had about two to three hours sleep. At the 900 level station, we fell in beside our mining partner, a Cousin Jack, who was known by all as Porky. Porky didn't say anything as we plodded down the drift, we didn't say anything either-in fact there was little conversation by anybody.