The IRA attack on HMS Cardiff...Just to clarify what happened: 1978: Swan Hunter - Hawthorn Leslies Shipyard.
It was the end of a long hard hot summers day when the call arrived saying there was an electrical problem in one of the Assembly Sheds. On arrival we found a huge 11,000 volt 3 phase transformer with one of its main cables dangling in mid air, copper core exposed to the world. Worse still, a huge 5/8th" thick metal bulkhead stood less than one foot away. I turned to my journeyman and said I'd run up to the switchboard room and isolate it, knowing exactly where to find the key and which system to isolate... At some 300 yards away, it was a sprint, but would mean it would be safe to work on within about 4 minutes. My journeyman also weighed up the situation and stunned me saying he was going to put on a pair of discarded welding gloves, place two pieces of scrap 3 x 2 wood across the tattered cable remains, and pull the live tail from its socket.
"Not with me here your not" said I, "You'll touch earth on that plating". As he donned said gloves I walked away, hurriedly picking myself through the scattering of hull parts on the shed floor, to reach the white demarcation lines which began the broad walkway through the shed, determined to isolate the job. It meant a sprint of about 70 yards,, negotiate a left turn at speed and then sprint up the shed for another 140yds, before swinging right, exiting the shed and on toward the switchboard room beyond; but I could run like the wind and soon be there...I drew a huge breath and launched into my first few strides... just as a percussion wave from the deafening explosion hit me from behind; throwing me a full 20 yards across the walkway to bounce and roll on the concrete floor; finally coming to rest on my back amongst more hull sections.
Daft as it may sound, but my initial thought was not "are my legs and arms still attached" but instead was "This concretes nice and cool on my back". I could see the shed roof high above me. I tried to rise.... No response. I tried again, noting a cool feeling on my feet, and several areas of intense pain. Still no response...
Strangely, everything was in slow motion as I now lay there looking beyond two feet, clad only in sweaty white socks, toward a sheet of metal sparks, some 250 ft high in the air. It seemed I'd been blown clean out of my shoes.
I watched amazed as these hot metal globules cascaded back down to earth, dancing on the assembly shed floor on arrival. To my disbelief, as this fascinating display reached ground level, a figure appeared. First the head, then shoulders, and finally full form. He was alive !... Unbelievable ! There was no sign of the 8ft high bulkhead anywhere?.... A sudden thought occurred... I was still alive as well !
I lay there transfixed as he slowly turned his head from one side to another, arms aloft, but bent at the elbows, blowing firstly on the left glove, now in flames, and then on his right glove, also in flames.. To think he could simply blow out the flames!
It was like something from a Laurel & Hardy movie... I dissolved into hysterical laughter as shock kicked in.The rests a bit of a blur, but I remember the yards old air raid Siren sounding an emergency response. (Unfortunately, a once familiar sound on the river). I briefly remember being lifted into the yards white ambulance; and then being on a stretcher in the ambulance room being administering tranquillisers to stop my hysterics. My fingers, wrists, knee and elbows were bandaged.
After some time, I started to regain control as the d*ugs hit and began to breath normally, albeit whilst still desperately suppressing giggling fits as I recalled the scene of the gloves in flame... whereupon, I was confronted by said journeyman !... who jumped down from the treatment table opposite, hands swathed with white bandages, his face a lovely red scorched colour and farcically covered in anti-burns cream."*Don't tell anyone what happened", he began...I dissolved back into fits of hysterical laughter....I was still laughing uncontrollably when I woke next morning at home..
*Don't tell anyone?....... Half the yard had been assembled at the gates for 4.30pm knocking off time and came running thinking the IRA had blown up HMS Cardiff (D108), the Type 42, batch (I) destroyer we were outfitting. Indeed, the North East Electricity Board, (NEEB), had rang up enquiring whether we had just switched on two massive dock pumps at Hebburn yard without warning them, as half of Hebburn and indeed Jarrow, had now had a power outage as an unexpected surge tripped the National Grid; leaving them desperately calling on another power station to be brought on line to cope with the expected demand. ....I could have died laughing B. C.
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