Never forget: The Glasgow Cheapside Street fire disaster of 1960

I have heard a clever definition of history – something that’s old enough to have been forgotten.

Yet there are some events which by their very nature should never be forgotten and later this month in Glasgow, a commemoration will take place of one such event – the Cheapside Street Fire Disaster of March 28, 1960.

As the 60th anniversary of the disaster approaches, I thought it appropriate to revisit the history of this tragic event which saw 19 members of the Glasgow Fire Service and the Glasgow Salvage Corps killed in an explosion at a bonded warehouse on Cheapside Street in the Anderston riverside area of the city.

It was about 7.10pm on March 28, 1960, that a worker in an adjoining building, the Eldorado Ice Cream company, smelled fumes and he then noticed smoke pouring from the second floor window of the bonded warehouse of Arbuckle, Smith & Co Ltd at 76-118 Cheapside Street.

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The warehouse was about 400ft by 110ft and was on several levels as it had been concocted from different buildings. The first 999 call was received by the Fire Service just before 7.15pm and within three minutes, the fire service was on the scene. Two “pumps” – the service name for fire engines – plus a turntable ladder and a fire boat, the St Mungo, arrived on the scene, joined by a tender and seven men of the Glasgow Salvage Corps. This was an organisation paid for by insurance companies to try and limit the damage in cases of fire.

Glasgow’s reputation as “tinderbox city” was not quite established at that point but the service had attended three fires at whisky premises in the previous week. The scale of operations at Arbuckle Smith was in a different league to most such premises – over one million gallons of whisky was contained in 21,000 wooden casks, with 30,000 gallons of rum also on the site.

To this day, no one knows what caused the blaze. There were still a dozen workers inside working overtime with a Customs Officer observing, so the possibility of a dropped cigarette or match was mentioned while clearly there had been some sort of leak from casks of whisky held upstairs. The possibility of arson, perhaps for insurance, was raised but discounted and most theories later centred on a the likelihood of an electrical fault.

As the Fire Service responded, it became clear that the fire was turning into a major blaze and the call “make pumps five” went out from the chief officer on the scene at 7.21pm. Firefighters went inside but could see no serious flames at first, and meanwhile crews arrived to check out claim that smoke was issuing from the rear of the bond in Warroch Street.

The first turntable ladder had taken up position in Cheapside Street and firefighters there found a real problem – the tight security demanded of any bond meant that windows were barred and doors locked tight. They could see the flames fanning out inside but were powerless to stop the spread.

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Inside the bond, casks of spirits began to rupture as the heat increased, and thousands of gallons of whisky and rum were spilling out while the fumes inside the building were building up.

Assistant Firemaster John Swanson arrived and at 7.49pm he radioed in for five more pumps to be sent. Even as he was finishing his call, a massive explosion took place which sent the walls of the No. 1 warehouse crashing down into Cheapside Street, right on top of the turntable ladder and three pumps.

In an instant, hundreds of tons of masonry pitched onto the street, killing the men gathered there to fight the fire.

John Swanson recalled later: “There was a roar similar to thunder, and then a long ‘swish’ or ‘boom’ that caused me to look up and see what was happening. When I did so, I saw the entire frontage of Section 1 of the bond building blow out onto Cheapside Street.

‘I saw a turntable ladder that had been in the middle of the street being completely enveloped by tons of fallen bricks, masonry and dust. I heard screams and then there was a sudden silence.”

Driver Bob Scouller of the Glasgow Salvage Corps, remembered a horrible sight: “The buildings seemed to make me sort of shiver a wee bit. I said to myself ‘I’m going back.’ I turned and I started to walk back up, and as I came near the turntable ladder there were four firemen. They were trying to get into a grill in a window and were hammering away with their little axes. They said: ‘Driver, could you get us an axe?’

“The four of them were buried right in front of my eyes. There was nothing I could do. They were all gone.”

Station Officer Peter McGill was actually inside the warehouse when the explosion came.

In his statement to the later inquiry into the fire, he wrote: “I heard a rumble and a crash of walls collapsing. We all ran out and I heard a cry of ‘Help!’. I saw then that the wall of what I now know is Section 1 had collapsed.

“I ran around in the direction from which I had heard the cry for help, and I saw the turntable ladder was engulfed by masonry.”

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Fireman James Dunlop, who won the George Medal for his bravery that night: said: “It was a very sudden and unexpected explosion that took us by surprise. It took us a few moments to realise that it had occurred. To me it wasn’t scary after that. There was a determination to beat this fire. We put things aside and got on with the job. We were all in position when the explosion occurred. It was like all hell was let loose. The whisky barrels were falling out of the building and bursting into flames. It was like bombs going off.”

The explosion was followed by a blaze almost unprecedented in its ferocity. Fuelled by spirits, blue flames erupted from the building and then orange flames shot hundreds of feet into the dark sky, lighting up Glasgow for many miles around. Locked in a separate desperate battle, the two main groups of firefighters attacked the blaze from Cheapside and Warroch Streets, but at first it was to no avail.

This was now a conflagration almost out of control, and the firefighters had to leave the bodies of their dead colleagues under the rubble, knowing that no one could have survived the collapse of the wall. The narrow streets and alleyways of Anderston made conditions almost impossible for fighting fires.

In the middle of the night, tens of thousands of people in the city and beyond got out of their beds to watch the blaze lighting up the sky over Glasgow, with the smell of burnt sugar and spirits could be sensed many miles downwind.

Hundreds of firefighters came from all over west central Scotland to help their colleagues in Glasgow, and thirty pumps, five turntable ladders and four support vehicles attended. A fleet of ambulances had been called in just after the explosion, but they left with only a few casualties.

Slowly but surely the firefighters managed to get the fire under control. It took until 6am the following morning to do so, and even then the “damping down” operations went on for a week. The last body was not recovered from the scene until three days after the fire.

In a research paper published later in the year, Glasgow’s Firemaster Martin Chadwick recalled how close the dear green place came to a “major disaster” that could have seen many dozens killed and a whole swathe of the city destroyed:

“While expressing very deep regret at the loss of so many valuable officers and men, I am very conscious that in some measure we were fortunate that the loss of life was not even greater. Had the explosion occurred about 10 minutes later the death-roll might well have been in the region of 50 to 60.

“As it was, a large percentage of the crews making the initial response were involved in the explosion which affected both sides of the building simultaneously and the 19 personnel who we were killed were among those who arrived on the fire ground in the first 10 minutes.

“The resultant subsequent release of liquid whisky and inflammable vapour rendered immediate rescue operations impossible and this together with the fact that the teams on both sides of the building were instantly involved, prevented one body of men assisting the other.

“The extreme rapid development of fire required instant and increased attention particularly if further explosions involving other similar bonded stores had to be avoided and these endeavours were the first quite proper reactions to an otherwise very alarming and hazardous situation.

“It is to the great credit of the services that in spite of the knowledge of such a great tragedy, officers and men applied themselves to this tremendous task without any concern for their own personal safety and carried on throughout the night with such immense courage that they actually gained control of the fire situation for the first time at about 06.00.” The news of Britain’s worst peacetime loss of life for the fire services shocked the UK and beyond.

By chance, Princess Margaret was in the city for an engagement and she was visibly shocked when she went to visit the scene.

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The funerals a week later were attended by representatives of every fire brigade in the country and more than 400 wreaths arrived from elsewhere in the UK and Europe.

At the memorial service in Glasgow Cathedral, its minister the Rev Dr Nevile Davidson said of the dead that they had shown “A shining example of duty done to the utmost of courage undaunted by danger of self-sacrifice.”

A requiem mass had taken place earlier in the day at St Andrew’s Cathedral where a message of sympathy from Pope John XIII was read to the congregation.

The cortege of all 19 coffins was almost 400 yards long and more than 1000 mourners took part in the procession to the Necropolis. People in a crowd estimated to be 20,000 strong stood five deep behind the firefighters who lined the route.

There were many awards for bravery. George Medals went to Station Officer Peter McGill and fireman James Dunlop, the latter for rescuing a colleague from a collapsing turntable.

The British Empire Medal for Gallantry was awarded to sub-officer Charles Neeson, firemen George Alexander and John Nicholson, and PC James Gribben. Fireman William Watters received the Queen’s Commendation for Brave Conduct.

The men who lost their lives on that dreadful night ranged in age from 24 to 54. They were: Glasgow Fire Service Sub Officers James Calder and John McPherson and Firemen Christopher Boyle, Alexander Grassie, Edward McMillan, Ian McMillan, William Watson, John Allan, Gordon Chapman, William Crocket, Archibald Darroch, Daniel Davidson, Alfred Dickinson and George McIntyre, Glasgow Salvage Corps Deputy Salvage Officer, Superintendent Edward Murray, Leading Salvageman James McLellan and Salvagemen Gordon McMillan, James Mungall and William Oliver.

Of the 19 dead, 18 were married and in total they had 13 children. The people of Glasgow and many other parts of Scotland responded to the tragedy by raising funds for the families of the bereaved.

Even 60 years on, the scale of the disaster still has the power to shock. It must never be forgotten.