Towns and villages across Scotland are tinged with poignant remnants of the past. Last week was one of those occasions where a town falls silent with sombre moments of reflection passing through every home.

65 years on, the village of Chryston came to a standstill to remember the 47 miners who died in the Auchengeich Colliery disaster of 1959. Generations of folk came out to remember – from the pensioners to the school pupils. In solemn silence, they stood to honour the men who perished.

41 wives were made widows that day; 76 children raised without fathers. An inferno blazing 1000ft below the surface of the earth whilst men travelled deeper to their doom, unaware of the disaster that awaited them.

By the time the alarm was raised, it was too late. The fire was blazing. The smoke was all-consuming. It choked the very life out of the men who went to their work that day.

When we gathered last week to remember, it was difficult, if not utterly heartbreaking, to imagine the sheer terror that would have consumed the village that morning. Rumours and whispers sweeping the streets about an unfolding human catastrophe while families look on in helpless angst.

Emergency services, brave and tireless in their endeavour but ultimately helpless, watched as poisonous smoke filled the air and left the men below with no hope of rescue. A decision taken later that day to flood the pit to extinguish the fire also extinguished the families' hope of any survivors. All but one miner perished.

Families gathered at the mine Families gathered at the mine (Image: The Herald)

The full report into the disaster is grim reading. But I would implore you to read for yourself the conditions faced by those men that day.

It’s a tale that is ingrained into the psyche of old mining towns the length and breadth of the UK where disasters like underground fires, explosions or flooding became the norm. Souls were claimed with horrid regularity. 207 perished in Blantyre in 1877. 361 died in Barnsley in 1866. 439 died in Glamorgan in 1913, the worst mining disaster ever recorded in the UK.

This was the true price of coal. That price is still being paid as communities throughout the UK strive to keep alive the memories of those who have died at their work.

As the public inquiry into Auchengeich showed, if proper health and safety regulations of the day had been followed, lives could have been saved.

As we approach the 50th anniversary of the Health and Safety at Work Act 1974, mining disasters are clearly – and thankfully - a relic of the past. But workplace endangerment and risk aren’t.

Research from the STUC and Scottish Hazards has shown that 2023 was the deadliest year for workplace deaths since 2019. But that doesn’t even include those who perished from the pandemic as a result of being at work. Going forward, their sacrifice must not be forgotten and governments must ensure long covid is recognised as an occupational disease.

But 65 years on from Auchengeich, we’re now in the horrid situation of recanting for yet another public inquiry just how dangerous the workplace remains for some workers when faced with disaster.

For the second time, I was called before the UK Covid-19 Inquiry last week. I’ll appear for however long it takes to fully present the failings of our state infrastructure during the pandemic. More than that, I’ll recant – chapter and verse – the experiences of our workers, some of whom never made it home after their shifts.

This Inquiry has already published its first report. It was damning. Our governments, both Scottish and UK, “failed their citizens” when it came to pandemic response and preparedness.

They failed our communities. They failed our workplaces. They failed our workers. Our NHS, social care and public services – and the fine public sector workers who uphold our nation’s infrastructure – didn’t have a chance when all they initially had in terms of protection at work was glorified bin bags.


Read more from Roz Foyer:


Shamefully in some instances, this is what some care workers armed themselves with as they went out each day to tend to our sick and elderly.

Research from the Equality and Human Rights Commission showed that a disproportionately high number of those who died from COVID were engaged in the care sector as compared to the average for all occupations.

Testimony from our members, specifically the Hospital Consultants and Specialists Association (HCSA) report ‘Never Again: COVID from the frontlines’ showed that severe disease, including hospitalisation or even death, was seven times more common in healthcare workers. An avalanche of evidence had been presented and will shape the recommendations from the inquiry. It’s our duty to make sure they are acted upon.

If any of the COVID Inquiries are to have any meaning, we cannot hear political platitudes that “lessons will be learned”. Of course, the purpose of the Inquiry is to shine a light on the failings of our state when faced with disaster.

The mineThe mine (Image: The Herald)

But if the UK Government, now under new leadership, wants to actually “learn lessons” then they must completely change course. There can be no return to austerity. Never again can governments, when faced with human catastrophe, fail our citizens because our public services were deliberately starved of funding year after year.

That’s not a bombastic piece of political posturing. That’s the conclusions found from the Inquiry itself. Austerity killed.

If we want villages across Scotland not to be adorned with any further memorials that commemorate those who died in service to their work, we simply must make work safer. Unions have their role to play, of course. We remember the dead and fight for the living. But those who are in charge of our legislature must also play their part.

That means arming the Health and Safety Executive with teeth. It means compensating those who have suffered avoidable detriment. It means providing proper protection and support for workers. It means standing by the key workers who stepped up for NHS and care services at their own cost.

Ultimately, it means providing our health and social care workers - and all the others who put their lives on the line – with justice.