“Human history becomes more and more a race between education and
catastrophe.”
H. G. Wells
Holmfirth, a town on the edge of the Pennines better
known today as the location for a quaint, rustic sitcom called The Last of the Summer Wine, received the
brunt. These photographs were taken by Bray And Son, a photographic company set
up in Holmfirth by Harry Bray after World War 1 and continued by his son,
Trevor. They were published by the Bamforth Company. Neither Harry nor Trevor
Bray considered themselves news photographers as such but realized they had to
go out and document the destruction of the Whit Monday Floods, just as the
Bamforth Company understood the importance of publishing them. Importantly
however, the floods struck just a week before D-Day, when the British Government
was heavily censoring all information concerning conditions inside Britain.
Very little information on the floods was released at the time. These postcards
would have been published months later, if not after the end of the war.
What they tell us about then is not so important
as what they say about today. This week storms struck the same area, and wider
parts of central and northern Britain. So far another three people have also
lost their lives and the damage is estimated in the hundreds of millions of
pounds. The real difference is that when these floods struck in 1944 they were
half expected as a once in a century event. Storm Desmond as the present
catastrophe is called, should be understood as part of what has now become an
annual cycle. But although it was seen on the horizon, so to speak, nothing
much was done about that.
Despite the Government apparently being caught by
surprise, events have unfolded along a predictable course. Firstly, defences
against flooding prove inadequate. Reports emerge that standard procedures
can’t be enacted because government funding to the responsible departments has
been slashed. TV cameras zoom in on the faces of people who have lost
everything. The army steps in. A Captain or Colonel tells reporters he can’t
believe basic, sensible steps weren’t taken. In a few weeks official reports
will, yet again, outline a woeful response by a careless administration. Next
year the process will begin again. In 1944 the Government could present a case
as to why it was not prepared for the Holme Valley floods, this being a time of
war and an era when available technology could at best only suggest something
might happen. Seventy one years later all such excuses are indefensible.
These photographs aren’t just a reminder from the
past of Britain’s future today. During the war the chimes of Big Ben everyone
heard on the BBC were recordings played to prevent the Germans from interpreting
weather conditions: the more humid the atmosphere the more muffled the sound
would have been. This was the level of sophistication the weather bureau was
able to exercise. Today meteorologists can not only see atmospheric rivers
developing, they can also reasonably predict how much water will be dumped and
where. This raises the obvious question of why the British Government is always
unprepared for weather disasters. Consistent failings defy common sense. Not to
push the conspiracy argument too far, but you could be forgiven for thinking
someone sees some kind of advantage in scenes like these.
BEFORE THE FLOOD |
Interesting post - it reminds me of the photographs of the "Great Sheffield Flood" (11 March 1864)where the horrific aftermath was photographed by the appropriately named James Mudd.
ReplyDeleteAll the best, Alan