Britain's worstciviliandisaster of World War Two took place on 3rd March 1943. The disaster occurred on a night when no bombs fell. It took place in a tube station not yet served by tube trains. It killed 173 East Londoners, a third of them children. And all the carnage took place on this insignificant staircase. Who'd have thought?
65 years ago, with the eastern Central line still under construction, Bethnal Green station was opened to the public to be used as an air raid shelter. Every time the sirens sounded thousands of people would make their way down to the safety of the platforms below, grabbing a few precious spare feet to spread out their bedding and to wait for the all clear. That wet Wednesday evening was nothing special. The air-raid warning blared out at 8:17pm, heralding what locals believed to be Hitler's retaliation for a recent raid on Berlin. Local residents dutifully made their way through the blackout to the tube station, either directly from home or emptying out of pubs, buses and cinemas. If only they'd known that this was a false alarm then many might have stayed where they were, and lived.
The entrance to the station was down a 19-step staircase lit by a single 25-watt bulb. There were no handrails in those days, nor any painted markings to show the edge of each step. At the foot of the stairs was a square landing, then seven further steps down to the ticket hall and the top of the escalators. Within this tiny space the tragedy unfolded. At 8:27 a sudden blast on experimental anti-aircraft guns in Victoria Park caused the crowd to panic and rush forward. Down on the first landing a woman carrying a baby tripped and fell, and an elderly man then tripped over the pair of them. This was all it took for the crush to begin, as scores of other shelterers pushed, stumbled and fell into the darkness. Soon the stairwell was filled with a deep pile of helpless bodies, smothered and fighting desperately for breath. Meanwhile further arrivals attempted to enter the station from above, unaware that they were treading on a floor of asphyxiated flesh, and unable to prevent themselves from becoming part of it. Within the space of just two minutes, nearly 200 lives were lost.
The British Government hushed up the terrible incident, fearing it might damage civilian morale. The findings of the official inquiry were held back until the war was over, and it took several decades for a small plaque to be erected in the stairwell in the victims' honour. It's not much to show for such a major incident, especially since TfL have installed a rather tasteless "Emergency - Do not enter" illuminated sign beside it.
Now survivors and local residents have come together to campaign for a more fitting permanent memorial, using publicity surrounding the 65th anniversary to generate awareness of their cause. Their aim is to try to raise £600,000 so that a huge inverted staircase, etched with the names of the dead, can be suspended directly above the scene of the tragedy. This Stairway To Heaven, as they've called it, would be a startling sight alongside a busy road junction. No longer would this be a forgotten subterranean disaster, but a constant jarring reminder on the conscience of the community. Because sometimes, let's remember, stringent Health and Safety regulations are there for a reason. And sometimes you're only a few steps from heaven.
Stairway to heaven
The entrance to the station was down a 19-step staircase lit by a single 25-watt bulb. There were no handrails in those days, nor any painted markings to show the edge of each step. At the foot of the stairs was a square landing, then seven further steps down to the ticket hall and the top of the escalators. Within this tiny space the tragedy unfolded. At 8:27 a sudden blast on experimental anti-aircraft guns in Victoria Park caused the crowd to panic and rush forward. Down on the first landing a woman carrying a baby tripped and fell, and an elderly man then tripped over the pair of them. This was all it took for the crush to begin, as scores of other shelterers pushed, stumbled and fell into the darkness. Soon the stairwell was filled with a deep pile of helpless bodies, smothered and fighting desperately for breath. Meanwhile further arrivals attempted to enter the station from above, unaware that they were treading on a floor of asphyxiated flesh, and unable to prevent themselves from becoming part of it. Within the space of just two minutes, nearly 200 lives were lost.
The British Government hushed up the terrible incident, fearing it might damage civilian morale. The findings of the official inquiry were held back until the war was over, and it took several decades for a small plaque to be erected in the stairwell in the victims' honour. It's not much to show for such a major incident, especially since TfL have installed a rather tasteless "Emergency - Do not enter" illuminated sign beside it.
