AUSTRALIAN

RAILWAY 

DISASTERS

Sunshine

Granville

Violet Town

 

 

 

Sunshine, Victoria, 20 April 1908

On Easter Monday, 1908, by far the worst railway accident to occur in Victoria, and indeed, in Australia to that time, happened at Sunshine, 11.3 km from Melbourne.

          A train packed with holidaymakers returning to Melbourne from Ballarat was struck by another train coming from Bendigo. In all, 44 people were killed, and 413 were injured. The carnage of the Sunshine disaster has only been eclipsed by the tragedy at Granville, nearly 70 years later.

          On the night of 20 April, an “uncomfortably crowded” eight carriage train of holidaymakers from Ballarat was on its homeward trip to Melbourne. At the same time, a similarly crowded six carriage train was on its was from Bendigo, bound for Melbourne.

          The Ballarat train was scheduled to arrive at Sunshine at 10.03pm, but had struggled to keep time. When it did arrive at the station, it was unable to be fully accommodated at the platform, such was the train’s length, and so had to move forward to allow passengers in the rear coaches to alight.

          Meanwhile, the train from Bendigo was due to arrive at Sunshine at 10.30am pm, and was twenty minutes late. As the train from Ballarat prepared to leave on its final leg into Melbourne, it was struck from behind by the train from Bendigo, pulled by two “AA” Class engines.

          The impact of the collision must have been horrendous to those who witnessed it, as the Bendigo train demolished the guard’s van of the Ballarat train and four rear carriages. Wooden carriages were reportedly reduced to matchwood “as easily as if the thick rigid iron and wood work were brittle as egg shells,” reported one newspaper of the day.

          Other contemporary reports recorded, “men and women were thrown in all directions amid the splintered ruins, some being killed outright” while others received total injuries.

          Escaping gas from one of the trains caught fire, and for a short while there was alarm that the whole of the struggling crowd of surviving passengers might be burned to death.

          As passengers escaped, they began the job of rescuing the less fortunate.

          The main problem they faced, however, was the lack of adequate lighting. Only a few lamps were available, besides the light being shed by the burning carriages.

          Although the smash occurred at 10.50 pm, it was not until nearly 1am that a relief train, complete with doctors, nurses and an ambulance corp reached the accident scene.

          On the station platform were heaps of cushions, removed from the damaged carriages, upon which rescuers had placed the fatalities. And on each body had been placed another cushion in an attempt to hide the shocking mutilation that many had suffered. A first-aid room had been set up in a large room at the nearby Sunshine Harvester works.

          Newspaper reporters at the accident scene saw men and women dead or badly injured, some of them imprisoned within the burning debris and telescoped carriages. One reporter commented: “They were practically roasted to death before they could be extricated.” Another reporter said: “One man was lying groaning on the platform moaning, ‘Shoot me! Shoot me! For God’s sake end my suffering.”

          In all 44 people eventually died as a result of the tragedy and a further 413 were reported as receiving injuries, 72 of those being serious.

          The night of the accident had been clear, and the Bendigo train had had the benefit of a 5km straight approach into Sunshine. So why did the accident happen?

          Driver Leonard Milburn had been in charge of the lead engine of the Bendigo train. Driver Dolman and fireman Deviney were aboard the second engine. Dolman said that he could not see the signals ahead because the tender of the lead AA Class engine was too wide for lights to be seen ahead, if they were sited low.

          The guard of the Bendigo train, Mr. W. Darcy, however, had his own view on why the accident had occurred. The train was late. Darcy’s log of the journey from Bendigo to Sunshine on the night of 20 April revealed just how late his train was, and the fact that it was travelling quite fast to make up time before the collision.

          Five minutes had been lost at Bendigo due to seating passengers, another three minutes at Ravenswood, due to signals. Two minutes were lost at Castlemaine for shunting and a further nine at Macedon.

          Darcy said a passenger aboard the train had insisted that the train go back to Macedon after a passenger had been over-carried, and the signals were against his train at Sunbury. Nine more minutes were lost before Sunshine, at Sunbury, due to a locomotive having to take water.

          Darcy’s view of the accident’s cause appeared to be corroborated by an eye witness at the station. A Miss Williams stated that the Ballarat train was very full because of the holiday.

          “To my horror I heard an approaching train and looking around, I saw the Bendigo train tearing down on the stationary (Ballarat) train. Seeing that a frightful smash was inevitable, I rushed into the Ladies Room,” she recalled.

          One person who luckily escaped almost certain death was the guard of the Ballarat train, John Fraser, who had only left his van to signal to his train’s driver to move forward to permit passengers in rear carriages to disembark. Fraser instinctively stepped back from the train as he saw the Bendigo train bearing down on it.

          Fraser’s guards van, a second-class carriage, and two first-class carriages, were instantly wrecked by the impact. It was estimated that about 1,000 passengers had been on the two trains, however, all of those killed had been on the Ballarat train.

          Eyewitnesses spoke of the incredible horrors caused by the tremendous collision, “bodies of men with their heads off,” and “women’s bodies with their heads smashed out of resemblance to humanity,” confronted early rescuers.

          It was not until 12.45am that medical help arrived from Melbourne, although the local fire brigade had already quelled the blaze that broke out in some of the carriages.

          About 1am, the undamaged portion of the Ballarat train left for Spencer Street station carrying those passengers capable of walking and the uninjured.

          A number of relief trains followed and demonstrated the enormity of the disaster. Ten bodies were aboard the first relief train, and a further 22 on the next. At Spencer Street, the waiting room became a temporary mortuary, while the injured were taken to hospital.

          It was 3.30 am before the last of the injured were removed from the wreck of the Ballarat train and transported to Melbourne. By daylight the awful task began of cleaning up the debris.

          A coronial inquiry was held with a jury of nine. The Coroner, Dr. R. H. Cole, began his enquiry in mid-May and it was not completed until July. Quite clearly the chief aspects for scrutiny would be the signals, the brakes on the Bendigo engines and the reliability of driver Milburn who was in charge of the train from Bendigo.

          The station master at Sunshine, George Kendall, told the inquiry that he had given the line all-clear to Deer Park station, on the Ballarat line, at 10.19 am. Twelve minutes later, Sydenham, on the Bendigo line, also asked for the same signal. Kendall said he gave the line all-clear, but left the signals for the Bendigo train at danger. He told the enquiry that as the Ballarat train was drawing forward at Sunshine, to let the rear passengers disembark, be became aware of the approaching Bendigo train and the inevitability of the collision.

Kendall fruitlessly attempted to halt the oncoming train with a hand signal but to no avail and the collision happened opposite the station’s lamp room. Kendall admitted to the inquiry that he should have belled to Sydenham for the Bendigo train to be stopped at Sydenham, and told the driver that the station yard at Sunshine was blocked.

          Two witnesses who had been travelling on the Bendigo train told the inquiry that the brakes on the train appeared to be working well at Kyneton, however, on approaching Sunshine they were aware of a smell which they put down to the brakes. One of the two witnesses said he felt the brakes on the train about a minute or two before the smash.

          Railway engineers stated that the brakes on the lead Bendigo engine, No. 544 were in good order even though the professor of engineering at Melbourne University, W. C. Kernot, found the braking action on the Bendigo train to be “abnormal… unsatisfactory, and needing rigorous investigation.” Attention then turned to the signals.

          An engine driver had complained in January that year to the locomotive foreman that the signals at Sunshine were badly elevated and could only be seen from the distant signal. The same driver later reported that the starting signal could be seen 3.2 km (two miles) away yet there was no improvement to the other signals.

Driver Milburn looked a likely candidate for close scrutiny when he came before the inquiry. A veteran of Victorian Railways, which he joined as a 13 year‑old greaser in 1876, he had had a record of breaching regulations. In 1896 he had driven the Governor's special train, however, had then been relieved from driving important trains due to driving at excessive speed. Milburn, however, defended his position because he claimed officials had asked him to get back to Melbourne on time, if possible, because the special was behind schedule.

The inquiry was told that Milburn had been working for 12 hours and 25 minutes at the time of the accident. Could it have been that his senses were not sharp enough after such a long shift?

Milburn told the inquiry that there was nothing wrong with the train's brakes as far as Sunbury, where the train had pulled up. The driver had shut off steam near St Albans, and coasted downhill. The train was doing more than 80 km/h following St Albans and the driver had whistled at Albion siding. Nearly 200 metres from the distant signal at Sunshine, Milburn had sounded his whistle for the crossing and had put on his brakes gently to check the train. Milburn had made further reductions past the signal while approaching the station.

Milburn told the inquiry, however, that about 200 metres from the home signal "the train shot me forward as though the brake had come off' and "the train appeared to run into the engine".

Milburn saw to his horror that the train was not going to stop at the home signal, and so blew his whistle and put the engine's reverser on, and got the regulator open at the home signal. Shortly after the home signal, Milburn's fireman, William Tomlinson, had shouted "there's a train ahead". Looking out, Milburn could see the rear of the Ballarat train about 100 metres ahead.

The inquiry's jury found that the drivers of the Bendigo train, Leonard Milburn and Gilbert Dolman, and the Sunshine stationmaster, Kendall were considered to have caused the Sunshine disaster through culpable negligence. The charge of manslaughter against Kendall was later dropped, however, Milburn and Dolman appeared before the Melbourne Supreme Court from 24 September, before the Chief Justice of Victoria, Sir John Madden, on the same charge. The trial ran for two weeks.

In his summing up Sir John said: "The Crown case was that Milburn, for some reason, deliberately ran past the distant signal at too far great a pace; that still travelling at a fast pace, and expecting a clear line through the station, he suddenly found the home signal pulled off, and the Ballarat train in the section. He put the brakes on but it was too late."

Sir John concluded: "It was said that Milburn disregarded the warning of the danger signal. If that were true, the definition was one which would his act unquestionably one of manslaughter. Happily, in this case, not one of aspersion on a man's character had been suggested."

The jury of 12 men accepted Sir John's view and on 9 October a deliberating for four hours, delivered a unanimous verdict of not guilty for both men.

As a result of the inquiry several recommendations were made that would have a bearing on future safety practices. A re-arrangement of the platform at Sunshine was advised. So too, that the station signalman should in future solely be occupied with operating the signals. On the fateful Easter Monday the signalman had not only been responsible for the signals at Sunshine but also selling tickets and handling station paperwork.

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                   Lithgow Zig -Zag, NSW, 8 December 1908

          With the increased loads being hauled by New South Wales Railways' trains difficulties were experienced during the first decade of this century, increasing difficulties in controlling trains on very steep gradients such as existed on the great Lithgow Zig-Zag. These problems became graphically evident in late 1908 with tragic consequences.

Shortly before 8 p.m. on 8 December, a Baldwin-built ‘J483' class 2-8-0 locomotive stalled on a 1 in 60 gradient with Sydney-bound train No.32, just beyond Clarence tunnel. It was made up of 43 wagons loaded with wool, wheat and copper. The train was also carrying 10 passengers including the officer- in-charge of the Zig Zag, who was travelling in the guard's van.

Engine-driver Jim Bourke, told his mate, William Fowler, to walk back along the train and divide it so that their engine would be able to mount the gradient with a reduced load. Unfortunately Fowler's inexperience in the job (he appeared to have uncoupled the train without first releasing the air in the brakes) and the darkness conspired to cause the second portion of the train to start rolling downgrade towards Top Points once it was uncoupled. The train's guard fell off his van and was injured, while the runaways quickly accelerated down the 1 in 42 gradient.

Luckily the Edgecombe signalman saw red lights approaching his box and immediately hammered through an urgent “train running away in wrong direction" bellcode to his counterpart at the Top Points signal-box, William Player. Player switched the points in order to minimise the impending damage from the approaching runaway. The runaway wagons came to a destructive end beside another 'J483', No.484, which was waiting in a loop at Top Points with train No.52, also for Sydney, made up of hopper wagons. Bales of wool were ‘tossed around like ninepins' according to contemporary reports. Six wagons piled on top of one another and burst chaff bags spilled their contents everywhere. It was possible to stand knee deep in chaff in some areas as a result of the spillage.

The occupants of the brake-van survived the runaway and subsequent collision, however, the guard of the stationary No.52. goods, James Costello, was not so fortunate. Costello had gone to the front of the train to tell the engine crew all was clear for departure, when the runaway trucks thundered down.

Costello had tried to evade the wagons by sheltering underneath the train, however, the force of the collision rammed engine No. 484 backwards and the hapless guard received broken ribs and serious internal injures. Costello was taken to the Lithgow Hospital where he died at 10.10 a.m. on 9 December.

Costello's death was particularly poignant in that he had only returned to work from annual leave on 4 December and had been rostered to work the outgoing part of his journey to Katoomba. However, at Katoomba he was instructed to travel on to Eskbank, and was on the return leg home when tragedy struck. He left a widow and five children.

The friction of the collision ignited wool on the runaway trucks, creating a huge fire. At 1 a.m. on 9 December, half a dozen trucks were still burning fiercely. Two breakdown gangs were summoned from Bathurst and Penrith to restore the line to operation and they supplemented 100 men procured the nearby deviation line workings. Some of these men were employed throwing soil on the burning wool trucks in an effort to contain the blaze. The line was eventually cleared to allow the first train of stock to pass through at 8.30 p.m. on 9 December.

A coroner's inquest into the guard's death began at Lithgow on December, before District Coroner, Mr. E. P. Richards, J.P. On Monday 14 December, the examination was focused on John Corr, the guard of train No.32. Corr told the inquest he had put on his handbrake hard and let sand down on to the rails to check the van and wagons when they began to roll back.

Corr told the inquest that he had not gone back to supervise the splitting the train - as was his usual practice - as he could not get up on time. He had told fireman Fowler not to be in a hurry because he (Corr) would soon be up to help him. Corr believed he had placed enough pressure on the brakes to allow him to leave the van. However, the handbrakes on the van and the wagons, with the sprags he had put in, were sufficient to hold the train without the Westinghouse (air) brake. Corr maintained that Fowler had no right to split the train without his (Corr's) presence.

The inquest was told Corr had jumped off the runaway train within 20 metres of Edgecombe and had injured his right arm.

Stanley Charles Drew, officer-in-charge of the Zig-Zag, told the inquest he had travelled with Corr in the guard's van attached to No.32 train, from Bottom Points towards Clarence. The push up engine had left the train at peg 88-13 and about 150 metres further on the train had stopped. Corr had put on his brake, but had released it, probably on three occasions, when the driver had tried to move the train.

After the train had stopped for about 15 minutes, Drew left the train to walk home, passing Fowler who was about 12 trucks from the engine. On passing Bourke in his cab, the driver had remarked that his train was struggling. Drew had then walked to Clarence where he saw the stationmaster.

Herbert William Dive, a night officer at Edgecombe, told the inquest he had seen the runaway train pass Edgecombe and estimated its speed as 80 km/h. From what he saw of the runaway van he was unsure whether its wheels were skidding or running, but there was no sign of sparks.

William Player, a night officer at Top Points, said that when he saw the runaway, its wheels were on fire and the row they were making made him think the brakes were on and were skidding.

Subsequently, Bourke, Fowler and Corr were found to have contributed to Costello's death and appeared before Judge Docker in the Parramatta Quarter Sessions on 20 January 1909, charged with feloniously slaying James W. Costello.

The Crown's case against Bourke was he should have had, and did not have, a full head of steam, and had not tested the rigidity of the rear portion of his train. The case against Fowler was that he had not put the brakes on (before splitting the train) and had not put sprags in the wheels.

The Crown's case against Corr was that when he got the message the train had to be divided, he did not secure the train as per regulations.

In defence, Fowler's counsel said it had to be shown that the fireman was criminally liable. It was put that Fowler was under others who were responsible.

Judge Docker said he understood that the case against Fowler was that he did not properly release the air in the trucks before uncoupling. Fowler’s counsel, however, argued the regulations stated that the guard must put on the brakes and sprag the train.

Drew gave evidence, similar to that given at the Coroner's inquest, and recounted how Corr had said how there was only 172 to 193 kpa (25 to 28 pounds) of air pressure in the brake, and how the driver had remarked that the push engine should have given a better push that would have enabled his engine to have conserved some power for the gradient.

Bourke's counsel argued that his client was not culpable, and that there was no case to go to the jury. But the Crown Prosecutor contended that Bourke should not have instructed Fowler to go and split the train until he had satisfied himself of the train's “rigidity".

After tea, Judge Docker found that, because the Crown's case against Bourke chiefly relied on showing negligence, there was not a case to go before the jury. He directed the jury to bring down a verdict of not guilty and Bourke was then discharged.

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Violet Town, Victoria, 7 February 1969

        By the late 1960s, one of Australia's premier express trains was the “Southern Aurora", linking Sydney and Melbourne. The rail service between the two capital cities had been considerably upgraded in 1962 when a new standard in interstate travel was established, with luxury appointments in stainless steel, air-conditioned carriages hauled by new diesel-electric locomotives, such as the Victorian Railways' ‘S' class engines.

 

However, tragedy struck the prestigious express on the morning of 7 February 1969 as the Melbourne-bound “Aurora" roared towards the tiny Victorian hamlet of Violet Town, about 170 kilometres from Melbourne.

The train was travelling at nearly 120 km/h as passengers aboard the express were preparing for their breakfasts. Suddenly, there was an almighty bang that was heard by residents almost 5 km away.

The express train had crashed head-on with an Albury-bound goods. The collision immediately crushed the first two carriages of the express, which held sleeping accommodation; a third sleeping car and a lounge car behind that were also tossed from the track and finished on top of the train's locomotive, ‘S' class No. 316.

While shocked passengers aboard the express struggled to free themselves from the wreckage, an explosion ripped through a power van behind the train's locomotive, igniting fires in seven of the train's carriages.

Nine people in all perished in the tragedy, seven of them passengers in the “Aurora". That train's driver and the driver of the goods were the other casualties, however, attention quickly turned to the driver of the express as speculation arose as to whether he had died as a result of the accident or beforehand.

Two railway gangers, who had been working nearby, quickly attended the crash scene following the tremendous sound of the colliding trains. They at first believed there had been an explosion on the train. The pair broke windows as they ran alongside the train in a bid to release trapped passengers. However, by the time they reached the burning carriages there was little they could do to save some of the injured passengers. Apart from the fatalities, a further 40 passengers were injured in the tragedy.

Fourteen hours after the crash, rescue workers were still disentangling the wrecked trains. An investigation was soon begun focusing on why the train could have run into an oncoming freight in broad daylight with, supposedly, the protection of advanced signalling systems.

The Melbourne City Coroner, Mr. H. W. Pascoe, Esq., S.M., conducted an investigation into the tragedy and on 1 July 1969 handed down his decision on the cause of the nine fatalities. He opened his findings statement by saying: “This inquest into the deaths of nine people associated with the head-on collision between the “up" Southern Aurora and a “Down" goods train at a point south of Violet Town loop... has aroused more public interest than any inquest upon which I have adjudicated".

Mr. Pascoe firstly stated that he was satisfied that proper maintenance had been given to the train, and that all essential components had been tested an inspected.

Of course, one of the key questions facing investigators after the crash was had Driver Bowden aboard the “Aurora" been alive at the time of the impact.

On this, Mr. Pascoe found Bowden had died from heart failure before the crash. Mr. Pascoe was almost certain there was little Bowden could have done to have prevented the coming disaster.

“I have no doubt that he died prior to the crash, was either dead or in a coma for an appreciable time, and that his death was occasioned by natural disease,” Mr. Pascoe stated.

The Coroner turned his attention to train speed charts of several “Southern Aurora" expresses with the chart of the same train on that fateful February day. He concluded: “...the obvious lack of reactions is not in accordance with the skill and reputation of a man like Driver Bowden and I am satisfied that he was dead or in a coma at least 10 km on the Down side of the site of the crash".

Medical records presented to the Coroner indicated Driver Bowden had, in October 1967, been suffering from angina pectoris, a symptom of coronary, ischaemia. In June 1968, Bowden had again seen his doctor, a day before he was to undergo a Railways' medical examination. Mr. Pascoe concluded on this aspect that: “...although I have found that the medical staff of the Railways warrant criticism, the real blame is attached to Driver Bowden for continuing a responsibility he was not physically well enough to perform".

Next to come under Mr. Pascoe's scrutiny was Bowden's assistant, Fireman Coulthard, who had left the cab of the locomotive to make a cup of tea shortly before the collision, and the train's guard, William Wyer. Of the latter, Mr. Pascoe described the guard's log book as “largely a piece of fiction, and I am satisfied that he was asleep shortly after clearing Albury". Mr. Pascoe determined that as both Coulthard and Wyer breached their duty they must share responsibility for the loss of the trains and the lives of those killed.

He found that the tragedy may have been averted if either the “Aurora's" fireman or guard had been alert or awake. While finding both men to be “extremely negligent", Mr. Pascoe was not prepared to declare them culpable and confined himself to a misadventure finding in the case of the eight victims from the express and the goods train. No criticism was levelled at the crew of the goods who, when the impending disaster became apparent, could do nothing “usefully" to avert the crash.

The Coroner's inquiry highlighted the need for changes to railway practice to prevent a recurrence of such a tragedy. Mr. Pascoe adopted the recommendations of Heart Foundation cardiologist, Dr Alan Goble, that all men with driving responsibilities should be given annual medical checks to the standards required by life assurance organisations. Each driver should also have an electro-cardiogram every two years. Mr. Pascoe also recommended that guards be provided with a vigilance control button which should be pressed at regular intervals to prevent situations where guards could sleep on the job. A recommendation was also made that speedometers should be fitted to guards' vans to enable guards to be aware that their train was speeding and, as a consequence, possibly not in control of the driver.

The Coroner finally recommended the adoption of a modified vigilance control in the cabs of locomotives used on passenger trains, that would involve both driver and fireman in confirming, regularly, that they were alert and attentive to their duties. He said in his summing up: I congratulate those who have been responsible for the modifications to the vigilance control, I regret greatly the events which have made this initiative imperative..." on impact with the 15-tonne gravel truck and rolled 4.5 metres over a bridge. The train fell on its side ripping up rails and flinging bogie wheels up to 20 metres away.


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Granville,

NSW, 18 January 1977

“Most railway accidents are due to plain bad luck

That was the belief of Australian railway authority, and former chief economist for British Rail, Dr Stewart Joy.

But if ever a railway accident was cursed with a surfeit of “bad luck" married with maladministration, it was the Granville disaster in 1977, the worst to occur in Australia. For it surpassed both in numbers of fatalities, and in sheer human drama, any previous Australian railway tragedy which through the medium of television, was quickly brought to national and international attention.

What initially seemed to be simply a troublesome derailment at an important junction approaching Sydney's city centre was, within, transformed into a horror of proportions few could have imagined.

On Tuesday 18 January 1977, train No. 108, the 6.09 a.m. commuter train for Sydney left Mount Victoria station in the Blue Mountains as it had on countless other occasions for its 126 km journey east to the city, with a scheduled arrival time at Sydney Terminal of 8.32 a.m.

This morning it compromised eight carriages plus electric locomotive No. 4620 in the cab of which was train driver Ted Olencewicz, 52, and his second-man, Bill McCrossin, 25. Little did they realise this trip would be unlike any other they had undertaken before, nor any they would ever want to repeat. Just two hours and three minutes later, loco 4620 was laying on its side, three of the eight carriages behind it were either split open or crushed under at least 350 tonnes of concrete and steel, and Australia's largest peace-time rescue operation was underway.

Both the pre-departure inspection and the journey down the mountains to Parramatta were normal and without incident. The train departed Parramatta at 8.10 a.m., 3 minutes late, with at least 469 passengers. From there the schedule provided a straight through run to Strathfield and the driver accelerated the train to 80 km/h. At 8.12 a.m., while rounding a curve in the approach to Granville station, passengers felt three sharp jerks - mistaken by some as the driver applying his brakes heavily. What it signaled, in fact, was that the train's engine had left the rails on the curve.

Some 46 metres after the point of leaving the rails, the engine struck one of two sets of trestles supporting the upper decking of the Bold Street overbridge. It demolished all eight steel stanchions of the trestle and finally came to rest on its side, 67 metres east of the bridge, having also torn up the adjoining track.

Carriage 1 was dragged derailed behind the locomotive and collided with an electric overhead support mast that had been shorn off at its base by the engine. The mast split the carriage open, demolishing its superstructure. It came to rest partly on its side with the detached roof on the adjacent tracks and the walls demolished almost to floor level. Eight of the 73 passengers in carriage 1 were killed and 34 were injured.

The second carriage, which was also derailed, passed to the north side of carriage 1, and came to a halt hard up against the northern retaining wall. It was relatively unscathed and there were no fatalities among its 64 passengers.

For a moment nothing further happened - the other carriages remained on the rails. But about 10 to 20 seconds after the collision with the bridge support, there was a deafening roar as the four-lane wide bridge collapsed on to the line below, crushing carriages 3 and 4 in the process.

These carriages took the brunt of the crippled bridge's northern and central spans - with a combined weight of 570 tonnes - and the passengers there had little chance of survival. The roofs of the carriages were crushed in, the sides were burst outwards and the height of the carriages was reduced to just above floor level.

Of the 77 passengers in carriage three, 44 died and of the 64 passengers in carriage four, 31 perished. Few of the carriages were free of passengers without some injury. Passengers were flung through windows, others were hit by debris from the crashing bridge.

Four of the cars on the bridge at the time fell down with it, although fortunately no‑one in them was injured.

Horrified onlookers were soon contacting emergency services and by 8.20 a.m. the first of more than 40 ambulances was on its way. Another 10 minutes later a local contractor's cranes were being summoned to the disaster scene to assist with the massive and urgent problem.

Soon police and firemen from throughout Sydney were at the crash scene; the first of dozens of doctors and nurses had arrived by 8.50 a.m. Shortly after, the first of numerous calls for blood donors went out to the public.

A huge air-blower was brought in to provide fresh air to the rescuers attempting to reach the casualties inside the two crushed carriages.

The enormity of the disaster was starkly apparent by 10 a.m., with 38 victims already in hospital. For the next 1½ hours the overriding aim for rescue crews was to jack up sufficient of the huge concrete slab that had crushed the train to enable doctors and nurses to squeeze into the buried carriages and so tend the survivors. By 12.15 p.m., four operations on those trapped in these two carriages were underway.

Army helicopters were brought in to take the most critical cases to surrounding hospitals. One nursing sister who went in under the slab took about 30 minutes to squeeze through because there was so little room. Rescuers managed to get lighting down to her, however, a broken light globe could have added an explosion and possibly further casualties because gas was leaking from the train's damaged heating system.

By 3 p.m. a young woman was released from carriage three, and attention then shifted to a 28-year-old man, Bryan Gordon, who was trapped - pinned by his thighs - in carriage four. It was not until 6.15 p.m. that Gordon was extracted. Although he was the last living person to be removed from the wrecked train, he died early on the morning of 21 January.

Work continued on into the night and during 19 January to break up and lift the concrete slab that buried an unknown number of victims in the two carriages. By 10 p.m. on the day of the accident as many as 900 people were working at the accident scene.

Engine 4620 and the trafficable carriages were taken away, leaving only the crushed carriages one of which was virtually covered by tonnes of concrete. The nearby helicopter pad became the temporary site of a mortuary where a line of shrouded bodies steadily lengthened.

By 11p.m. police emergency coordinator at the crash scene, Inspector Ray Williams, announced that 21 bodies had been removed from the train with a further 90 or so passengers injured and either admitted to hospital, or treated and allowed to go home.

At midnight gangs of fettlers arrived at the crash scene to begin repairing the damaged track-work. Railway electricians had earlier removed the fallen electric wires.

Twenty minutes later further evidence of the enormity of the disaster was revealed when a giant piece of reinforced concrete was removed, together with the roof of one of the damaged carriages. Inside were 22 bodies of passengers crushed in their seats. Still the work continued as one more carriage lay beneath the broken bridge and rescuers fearful it contained at least another 40 victims.

In all the Granville disaster claimed 83 lives and injured 213 people. On 20 January - 31 hours after the accident - the last of the bodies was removed. However, work continued at the crash scene to remove debris and restore damaged track-work Finally at 8.50 p.m. on Thursday 20 January train - a goods from Albury -was able to pass through Granville.

A judicial inquiry, headed by the then Chief Judge of the NSW Court, Justice James Staunton, 54, was immediately set up following the disaster. Justice Staunton was allowed wide ranging terms of reference under the Railway Act, and was assisted by a six‑member team from the NSW Transport Commission. The court sat for 30 days and called and examined 75 witnesses.

As evidence would reveal, for the passengers aboard the ill-fated train Mount Victoria, electric locomotive 4620 and the Bold Street bridge, it was a tragic case of third time unlucky. The bridge, built in 1956, had had one of its stanchions rammed by a goods train in August 1967. It was struck a second time by a loaded coal wagon when a train derailed in 1975. On both occasions there had been no major consequences. For the unfortunate victims on 18 January 1977, the bridge's charmed existence came to an end with consequences with the third collision.

It was later found that, due to an unfortunate quirk of fate, the actual weight of the span of the bridge that fell on carriages three and four was about twice the weight calculated by designers.

For electric locomotive 4620, it was also a case of third time unlucky with appalling retribution. The engine had been involved in accidents on previous occasions, the most spectacular involving a runaway freight on 15 July 1965 which derailed near Wentworth Falls station. On that occasion the crew of the engine received injuries after surviving a terrifying 153 km/h downhill ride through the Blue Mountains.

Following the Granville disaster, the then Minister of Transport, Mr. Peter Cox, had to immediately consider calls for the replacement of bridges which, as at Bold Street, relied on central supports to carry their weight. But such a program would have involved a capital works bill in excess of the $160 million the NSW Government had allocated in its 1976-77 budget for improving public transport.

And authorities such as Dr Joy argued that the probability of another Granville-type disaster occurring were so remote that the merits of such massive expenditure were questionable:

“The Granville disaster was so serious because the train happened to come off the track at a bridge. If it had happened on open line, carriages would have been damaged, and passengers shaken, but probably most people would have walked away," he told the Bulletin magazine at the time.

Four months after the disaster - and following 29 sitting days and the accumulation of 1300 pages of transcripts - Justice Staunton handed down his findings into the crash. He said the cause of Australia's worst rail disaster was due to the “very unsatisfactory condition of the permanent way on the up western line".

Justice Staunton's inquiry had revealed that wide gauge track, which was poorly fastened and aligned, had allowed the front left wheel of engine 4620 to fall inside its rail, resulting in its other wheels also derailing.

On the defective track-work that led to 4620's derailment, he stated:

“These defects should have been detected by the exercise of reasonable care on the part of those responsible for the inspection and maintenance of the lead and should have called for a detailed inspection of the lead which, of course, would include measuring it."

Justice Staunton continued:

“The reasons for the failure of those responsible for the inspection and maintenance of the lead... may be found in a variety of circumstances, and it is necessary to examine these in some detail."

The report also stated that responsibility for track maintenance and inspection reached up into the PTC hierarchy including the principal engineer, maintenance and his superior the general manager of the Way and Works Branch.

It also said that a high turnover of track inspection staff, who were often poorly trained, had occurred in the Granville area in the months immediately before the rail disaster. The system of issuing instructions and information to such staff  “failed or was deficient in certain respects".

Of note, there was a failure to use standard practice circulars within the PTC to convey the importance of regularly and frequently measuring the gauge of the track to the men directly responsible for that task.

Justice Staunton also found that, before the derailment, no specific instructions had existed about precisely how frequently the track gauge should be measured.

His report found that Standard Practice Circular 3501 - which directed that the division engineer must stipulate to staff how frequently leads were checked, and should have ensured a report was made out not less than once a month was not complied with.

The report also questioned the effectiveness of track supervisor training courses and said the in-service instruction available to supervisors not attending a training course “seems to have left something to be desired".

Despite those criticisms the report stopped short of directly implicating the highest echelons of the PTC - the people responsible for major internal budgetary decisions that could have had a bearing on the accident.

Justice Staunton continued:

“Mention was made in evidence of the problems which have been encountered because of...the constraints placed upon the recruiting of staff by reasons of budgetary restrictions.

“Although such difficulties might be expected to lead to serious maintenance problems in the long term, there was no evidence they had resulted in there being insufficient staff for the purpose of inspecting the lead of No. 73 points (where the locomotive derailed) and keeping it in safe condition." Justice Staunton said that the PTC should formulate and implement a clearly defined policy for the regular inspection of track leads in the railway system.

He also recommended that the PTC should consider improving and increasing communication between senior track personnel and their subordinates. While critical of the maintenance standards in operation for track-work, he found no neglect or omission by those involved in constructing the Bold Street bridge which crushed part of the train. There was praise, too, for those involved in the mammoth rescue operation:

“The task of recovering the survivors was of considerable magnitude and complexity. It was organised and undertaken in the most efficient manner under extraordinarily difficult and dangerous conditions."

Justice Staunton found no problem with engine 4620, nor the rolling stock if serviced, maintained and operated on track in good condition. It had not been established that the speed limit of 80km/h in the section where the derailment had occurred was too high, if the track had been in good condition.

Similarly, no evidence was produced to suggest that driver Olencewicz, or his second-man, were in any way at fault.

Concurrent with Justice Staunton's report was an announcement from Mr. Cox that the New South Wales Government would embark on a $200 million program to upgrade railway tracks throughout the State. Some critics at the time noted, however, that the NSW Government's commitment to funding the railways disguised the fact that NSW, in the 10 years before the accident, had lagged behind other States and the Commonwealth for expenditure on maintenance of track and structure.

While NSW's expenditure in that area had been around 16 per cent per annum for about 10 years, Victorian Railways' expenditure on track maintenance and structure had rarely fallen below 19 per cent, with the Commonwealth's outlay usually topping 20 per cent.

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Granville: Three Lucky Survivors

Gerald Harvey of Faulconbridge is one of the fortunate Granville survivors who appear to have been spared despite unusual events conspiring to place them in danger. He joined the train (known to locals as The Summit) at Springwood before it ran non-stop to Parramatta on his regular trip to work at the State Bank of NSW.

Normally he would have been on the earlier one - known as The Chips - but had slept through his alarm clock. His decision to sit in carriage five on the day of the disaster was one of luck rather than habit. Fortunately his carriage stayed upright and its passengers were saved from the ensuing carnage.

“There were three distinct shudders then the train came to a stop," Mr. Harvey recalls.

“Immediately there was a dead silence. Then the overhead wires came down and they sparked around the track and I said to my friend next to me that we'd obviously derailed and weren't going anywhere.

“I remember a woman - a well-dressed woman without her shoes on running around screaming amongst these (fallen) wires, and then what appeared to be seconds later, there was a huge cloud of dust which of course was when the bridge collapsed on carriages three and four."

Mr. Harvey and his friend were unaware of what had occurred and got out of their carriage to investigate.

“It wasn't until we got down on the track that we looked up ahead and we could see the absolute carnage ahead of us," he recalls.

“We lost five of our staff (at the bank) that day, one of them my friend. He always sat in carriage four, two seats from the back on the left hand side.

“When we climbed down and I looked forward, car four was approximately a metre high with the bridge on top of it and of course I knew instinctively that Kevin was dead. That had a great impact on me."

Mr. Harvey, after learning there was little he could do to help the by now huge rescue operation that was underway, got a lift to Parramatta, and from there to Penrith. Eventually he met a friend from Springwood who drove him home.

“The shock hit me about 7.30 that night - I was sitting at the kitchen table and just broke down in tears," he recalls.

Jack Maddock, who lived in Warrimoo, was another passenger who can thank luck, and his own resolve in ignoring some noisy fellow passengers, for his survival.

He was sitting in row three of carriage three on the day of the Granville disaster - 44 of the 77 passengers in that carriage lost their lives. Had he chosen row five, he would have not survived.

“I was going to move back a few seats because right at the front of the carriage there were two vociferous women and they were annoying me," he said.

“I had had a late night and wasn't happy with the noise, however, I said to myself ‘no I don't see why I should have to move' and so I stayed put."

Mr. Maddock had often imagined that a “rough rail joint" on the bend leading into Granville station would one day give way under the impact of a fast‑moving train. But only in his worst nightmares could he have foreseen the catastrophic consequences that such a track fault might one day deliver.

“On the morning of the accident the train seemed to be travelling a little faster than usual," he said. “There was a jolting movement in the carriage and I thought the inevitable had happened, that the rail joint had given way and that we were off the rails.

“As the carriage remained upright, I thought that was that: we were off the rails without any great drama."

However, his sense of anti-climax within seconds turned to one of horror.

“The roof of the carriage slowly came down on top of us, almost like slow motion," Mr. Maddock said. “Initially there had been some screams from girls as the train ran over the sleepers; they were up front, some of them were standing.

“Then as the roof came down there was just silence. In the row of seats behind me the passengers were pinned down but alive; beyond that they'd been killed, although I didn't know that at the time; I merely felt that was the case.

“The roof pushed me down into a crouching position... as the roof came down on me I thought: ‘I wanted to retire this year, now I look like missing out'! I crawled to the door and got out and then returned inside to see if I could assist anyone."

To this survivor, most of his fellow passengers appeared stunned. He can recall no screaming. Soon, passengers who were able were rushing around seeing if there was anything that could be done for the less fortunate.

“Most, including myself were appalled at what we saw when we got down on to the tracks, particularly with cars 1 and 2 badly smashed and the locomotive on its side," Mr. Maddock said.

“It was then, when we looked back we could begin to see the enormity of the accident." Mr Maddock was extremely lucky. Apart from a form of “minor shock", he can't recall suffering any short-term or long-term trauma or after effects from the accident. Except one:

“For some months afterward, when travelling by train, if the driver applied the brakes hard for whatever reason, I'd sit bolt upright, even if I was having a snooze!

“In fact, it was an observation of mine that you could tell who'd been in the Granville smash by the heads popping up in the carriage as severe braking was experienced."

Gerald Harvey recalls a similar sensation about travelling through Granville by train.

“In all the time I travelled after that (the disaster) - about eight years - every time I went under the Bold Street bridge I was aware of it, even if I was asleep I used to wake," he said.

Fortunately, passengers such as Gerald Harvey and Jack Maddock had no reservations about getting back on a train following the Granville disaster.

“I had to get back on the train the following morning. I suppose it was war time (training). I was in the RAAF - all the rookie pilots were put into the aircraft after there had been a fatal crash so they didn't maudlin," Mr Maddock said.

Christian Dupressoir was another passenger who was in carriage three at time of the disaster.

“It was obvious that the train was derailed," he said. “It took a while for train to stop, then there was a delay of approximately 10 seconds before the bridge fell onto the train.

“I didn't know the bridge had fallen until I left the carriage. When I left the carriage I saw the bridge had crushed carriages three and four down to ground (and) it was obvious that there were few survivors.

“Everyone in rows 1, 2 (where he sat) and 3 escaped, two persons were trapped in row 4 and one trapped in row 5.

“There was danger to these people when rescuers started removing debris from the roof of the train. We had to tell these rescuers to stop because material was falling onto trapped passengers."

Luckily, Mr Dupressoir did not know any of the victims that lay either trapped or dead in carriage three. But the horrific image of the base of the Bold Street bridge laying virtually on the floor of the carriage three – “with dead people in between" remains one indelibly imprinted in his mind. One aspect referred to by Granville survivors is the fact that many of the casualties of the disaster were probably standing at the time of the tragedy.

Mr Dupressoir said that until a few months before the Granville disaster, Parramatta passengers were not permitted to board the commuter trains from “the mountains". He believes that had this still been the case on 18 January 1977, it is likely the overall death toll in the disaster would have been reduced and, certainly, there would have been few fatalities from the Parramatta area. In another example of lady luck smiling upon some of the Granville survivors, Mr Dupressoir was grateful for a quirk of fate affecting his choice of seat in his carriage on 18 January 1977.

“Normally when I caught the 7.17 a.m. from Warrimoo (the service involved in the Granville disaster) I would travel with a friend Ted Foster," he said. “I knew that the two seats in the second row on the left hand side of the carriage at the front were held by people further up the mountains.

“That morning (of the disaster) I entered the carriage first and Ted followed me. The ‘held' seats were vacant so I sat there and Ted sat next to me.

“If he was first to enter the carriage he would make for the seats towards the middle of the train. On the morning of 18 January 1977 both sets of seats were vacant.

“By sheer fate I entered the carriage first that morning and we lived. If Ted had (gone first) we'd both be dead."