On the 8th of October, 1952, hundreds of commuters crowded onto a local, London-bound train at
Harrow and Wealdstone station.
It was a foggy day, and the railway network was beset by delays.
Most of those on board would have been primarily concerned with finding a seat in the overcrowded
train, or wondering if they would make it to work on time.
None of them knew that they were about to be involved in the worst ever rail disaster
in peacetime in Britain.
Constructed in 1837, Harrow and Wealdstone station started out as a relatively small
and quiet train station a significant distance outside London.
As the city grew, so too did the station.
Over several decades it was rebuilt, enlarged, and connected to the underground as well as
the overground rail network.
By the 1950s London had grown to the point that Harrow and Wealdstone was a busy rail
hub on the outskirts of the city – very different from the sleepy village railway
station it had been when it was first built.
Now Harrow and Wealdstone provided services for both London commuters and for passengers
travelling across the country on national rail routes, including the West Coast Main
Line.
The station connected routes to the north, as far as Perth in Scotland.
The morning rush hour on the 8th of October, 1952, was an unusually busy one.
Commuters waiting for the arrival of their train into the city found that one service
had been cancelled due to improvement works, creating significant delays.
These delays were exacerbated by a descending fog.
During the 1950s early morning fog was a common occurrence.
The natural fog of a damp, cold morning was often made worse by air pollution.
The Clean Air Act had yet to be introduced, and the output of domestic fires and factory
chimneys could turn a light mist into a dense and all-pervading smog.
All these things contributed to a particularly busy and stressful morning for commuters and
railway personnel alike.
Driver RS Jones was no doubt braced for a difficult shift as he boarded the southbound
Perth to Euston overnight service at Crewe.
Though much of the UK rail network had been electrified by this stage, some steam trains
were still in operation.
This was one of them.
Consisting of eleven carriages, it was being pulled by the LMS Coronation class steam train,
the City of Glasgow.
Jones would be driving the train as it finished its overnight journey to London Euston.
Jones was an experienced railway worker.
He was respected by his colleagues, and had worked the line down to Euston dozens of times
before without incident.
He had passed medical exams, and his sight was perfect.
With Jones at the controls, the train made its way towards London.
Many passengers on board were just waking up after their overnight journey – although
some others had been awake all night, including a group of soldiers who had passed the time
singing songs and swapping stories.
On approaching Harrow and Wealdstone at 8:17am the train should have been delayed for a few
minutes by stop signals outside the station.
However, on this occasion, the train did not stop… nor even slow down.
It rattled through a caution signal, then a danger signal, and then straight into the
station.
There, finally, the emergency brake was applied… but it was far too late.
The incoming Perth train ploughed directly into a delayed local train at Platform Four.
This train consisted of nine carriages, and was crammed with more than 800 people at the
moment of impact.
Passengers occupied every seat and were standing in the aisles and vestibules as well.
The crash was devastating.
The rear three carriages of the local train were crushed, and it was violently shunted
forward along the line.
The front section of the overnight Perth train rode over the local service before finally
coming to rest.
Moments later another train arrived at Harrow and Wealdstone Station.
This was a 15-carriage Liverpool-bound service, being hauled by two steam locomotives, the
LMS Jubilee class Windward Islands and the Princes Royal class Princess Anne.
Expecting its line through the station to be clear, this train was travelling at high
speed.
Within seconds it collided with the wreckage strewn across the tracks, and violently derailed.
The two heavy locomotives mounted the platform, ploughing into commuters who had barely had
a chance to react to the first collision.
So great was the noise of these two consecutive crashes that the station clerk picked up the
phone to call emergency services without even looking to see what had happened.
One survivor, Pelham B Swann, later gave an account of their experience, having been on
board the local train: “Suddenly there was a terrific jolt.
The carriage rocked, the windows flew in and a storm of splinters flew about us.
There were eight more jolts, presumably from the buffeting rear coaches.
There was no panic, no hysteria.
No one knew what had happened and we were too stunned to think it out.
I flung open the door of the compartment and we tumbled out.
The station was in chaos.
Telescoped carriages zig-zagged across the lines.
It was a terrible and heartrending scene.
Even the bridge across the lines was broken.”
Despite a huge number of fatalities, the situation could have been much worse if it wasn’t
for the quick response of the emergency services and a passing United States Air Force medical
unit.
The unit was on scene within the hour, and included Lieutenant Abbie Sweetwine, who was
later referred to as the "Angel of Platform Six" by the media.
She improvised with the limited materials available as she tended the injured, using
lipstick to marked an X on the forehead of those who had been treated, and an M on those
who had already been given morphine, to prevent an accidental overdose.
Blankets were torn up to make improvised bandages to treat the incredible number of wounded.
The fire brigade, police and ambulance services worked to evacuate survivors, close the station,
and begin a rescue operation.
They were supported by a number of organisations, including the Women’s Voluntary Service,
and volunteers from the general public.
Fourteen-year-old Gilbert Powell was one such volunteer.
He had been about to board a bus to school outside the station when he heard the crash,
and immediately went to assist.
His small stature meant that he was able to wriggle into spaces that full grown firemen
could not access in order to check for survivors.
Powell spent four hours helping the emergency services, using the first aid skills he’d
learned with his local Boy Scout troop.
Once he had done all he could, the boy then sought out a nurse and asked her to write
him a note to excuse his absence from school.
A total of 112 people died that morning.
Statistics for wounded and traumatised survivors were also high.
Approximately 340 people received medical treatment, with 157 requiring hospitalisation.
There were many lucky survivors of the disaster.
One man on board the Perth train survived because he left his seat and walked down the
train to a bathroom in order to shave.
Another escaped death by opting to sit separately from his friends in a less crowded part of
the local train.
Both momentary decisions that made the difference between life and death.
The Ministry of Transport undertook an inquiry, with the findings presented in June, 1953.
There appeared to be no mechanical signalling faults, or any signs of human error on the
part of the signal operator.
The report concluded that reduced visibility due to fog coupled with a misjudgement, or
failure to pay attention, on the part of the Perth train driver were likely to have contributed
to the first impact.
The report could not be more specific as, unfortunately, the driver of the Perth train
RS Jones had been killed in the crash.
The Ministry’s report also highlighted some general observations, such as differences
in carriage construction.
The death toll in carriages that were of solid steel construction had been much lower than
those where the carriage was largely wooden – something which pushed forward a move
towards steel rolling stock in the future.
Overall, the Ministry of Transport felt human error was the primary cause and pointed out
that safety depends on drivers following signals at all times.
It also noted, however, that systems were currently in development that could help prevent
similar accidents, including the Automatic Warning System – a device that when installed
on the rails would warn drivers on board passing trains that a caution or danger signal was
approaching.
Brakes would be applied automatically if the driver did not acknowledge this warning.
In terms of fatalities and injuries, the disaster at Harrow and Wealdstone station in 1952 remains
the second deadliest crash in British railway history, only surpassed by the wartime Quintinshill
Railway Crash.
British Railway’s Automatic Warning System was introduced within a few years of the accident,
and by the end of the 1970s the technology was active on almost a third of routes in
the UK.
For decades, survivors and the local community campaigned for a permanent memorial of the
disaster.
In 2002, the 50th anniversary of the crash was marked by a ceremony in which local councillors
unveiled a stone memorial plaque near the station entrance, where it remains to this
day.