A night they will never forget

He had only taken up the job a few weeks earlier. The newest member of the York Minster police was undertaking his first night duty, no doubt hoping for a peaceful shift.

As he was returning from one of his regular patrols around the deserted cathedral, the silence was shattered by a fire alarm. It was 2.30am.

He began to hurry back to the policeman's cabin in the south aisle of the Choir where the alarm panel would tell him which one had activated.

As he did so, he looked up towards the great Rose Window. That glance told him everything.

Ninety feet above his head, fire was flickering through the wooden vaults of the South Transept ceiling.

Less than half a mile further south at York Fire Station, Red Watch had already had a busy night. They had recently returned from an incident involving a railway wagon carrying chemicals which had derailed near Mayfield Grove.

Some of the firefighters then climbed the drill tower at the Clifford Street station, to watch the lightning play across the night sky. The show was made all the more eerie by the lack of thunder.

When the Minster's fire alarm went off, it automatically triggered an alarm at Clifford Street.

Suddenly the overhead spectacular was forgotten as Red Watch went into action, led by Assistant Divisional Officer Peter Wright.

Little did they know they were about to be confronted by a much more shocking aerial display.

There was no sense of foreboding, though. York firefighters were regularly called out to Minster false alarms. As always, two pumps and a turntable ladder appliance set off in response.

Only when they arrived minutes later did the 12 firefighters of Red Watch discover this time was different. As they sped into Deangate, the air turned hazy with smoke. Flames could be seen on the Minster roof.

As the official report would state, by the time a fire crew was on the scene, York Minster was already well alight.

After a moment's shock the firemen's professionalism took over. They had been well prepared through training and experience for what was to be the most momentous night of their careers.

North Yorkshire's Chief Fire Officer Ralph Ford, who ultimately took charge of the operation that night, had been told at his job interview that he would be forgiven for many things, but not if York Minster burnt down. The efforts to ensure this never happened were exhaustive.

A detailed plan of how to fight the blaze was in place. It was updated and rehearsed regularly.

Copies of this plan were held at the Minster, at the fire station and at the brigade headquarters. A summary was also carried by every York fire engine, which also included a "footprint" diagram of the Minster detailing all the access and isolation points.

Inside the cavernous building were myriad fire detectors. They were only switched off during royal visits and the ordination of Archbishops, to ensure they didn't sound accidentally and spoil the service: to ensure continued safety, fire officers were in attendance throughout these ceremonials.

Outside the Minster were lightning conductors and grassed-over hard-standing areas, built to take the weight of a fire engine's turntable ladder should the worst ever happen.

And it just had.

The first job of Red Watch was to assess the situation and form a plan of attack accordingly. It was soon established that the blaze was in the void between the South Transept roof and the ceiling below.

The most effective way to fight any roof fire is from the inside up, as the outside has always been designed to prevent water getting in. Firefighters had no way of getting inside the roof void: the only door had been destroyed early in the blaze.

So ladders were set up in the aisles in the galleries running down both sides of the South Transept.

But fire officers quickly had to evacuate the area. Burning wood and lumps of molten lead were falling to the floor.

This fire had been blazing for some time.

Despite the obvious risks, clergymen later went into the Minster to rescue priceless artefacts. They covered their mouths with wetted handkerchiefs to protect them from the acrid smoke, and managed to bring documents, choir stalls, candlesticks, crosses and even rugs to safety.

York's fire crews soon needed urgent reinforcements.

Whenever ten extra pumps are ordered to a city fire, the Divisional Commander for York is automatically alerted. Alan Stow was in bed at home in Dringthorpe Road when he was woken by the call at 3am.

Changing into the uniform he kept at hand, he was at York Minster eight minutes later.

Mr Stow, who had been York Divisional Commander since 1979, did not have time to be shocked or scared, he recalled this week. During his brief journey he was running through the fire plan in his mind.

When he arrived he had three questions to the men on the ground: "What have you got? What have you done? What do you need?"

The fire crews were using water from nearby hydrants and from a reservoir underneath Dean's Park. Mr Stow set up a relay of three fire pumps to bring extra supplies from the river.

Various fire officers were given specific responsibilities: one in charge of the breathing apparatus, another in charge of the salvage operation (pumps were set up to rid excess water cascading into the undercroft), another in charge of feeding the crews, many of whom were part time and had not eaten for hours.

Meanwhile, a fire command unit had been set up which kept track of every fire officer and pump and co-ordinated efforts with the Northallerton HQ.

The fire was travelling towards the Minster tower from the gable end of the South Transept. Firefighters had established "some pretty hairy ladder pitches" in order to get near to it, Mr Stow remembered.

Some officers were training their hosepipes at the flames from close range, standing on the outer walkways of the transept where the roof met the wall.

Then it became clear. The roof could not be salvaged.

"There was no way we were going to be able to extinguish that roof fire," Mr Stow said.

"The great concern was that the fire might break through along the side, and turn 90 degrees into the Nave or turn 90 degrees in the other direction into the Choir.

"If the fire had gone into the Nave the Minster would have been lost.

If you look at the area of the Nave roof in comparison to the South Transept roof, it's enormous."

And if the fire reached the Central Tower with its leaded windows, "then there would be the biggest chimney fire anyone had ever seen".

It became clear that the critical point was the junction where the South Transept joined the Central Tower.

If the blaze could be prevented from reaching that point, the rest of the Minster could be saved.

A decision was taken to try to precipitate the collapse of the South Transept roof.

A powerful jet, previously used to douse the flames and to cool the Rose Window, was deliberately aimed at the burning timber at the end farthest away from the Central Tower.

The idea was that the one-and-a-half inches of core water would be enough to force the weakened timber inwards and over.

It would then create a domino effect, taking the other burning timbers with it.

The plan worked. After the water had been trained on the end timber for some time, it gave way, and pulled the other timbers with it.

Without warning they crashed onto the stone floor. In a last, defiant flare, the flames leaped as high as the top of the tower.

"It was a tremendous roar and then this enormous crash," Mr Stow said. "The ground shook as all these timbers landed on the floor. We were greatly relieved."

One fireman on the South Transept outer walkway was pulled off his feet as the roof caved in. He escaped with shock. Remarkably, only one fireman was hurt, suffering a minor eye injury.

After the South Transept roof came down, Mr Stow and others then checked to ensure the fire had not reached the Central Tower or beyond. It hadn't. The roof collapse had come in time: the Minster was saved.

The roof's disintegration also ventilated the area, releasing the hot gases and ensuring the Rose Window was not destroyed.

Not too long afterwards the brigade was able to send the "stop message" - signalling that the fire was under control and no more men were needed. It came through at 5.24am.

The investigation into what caused the fire began before it was extinguished. Specialist fire investigators and police started interviewing eye witness and beginning to piece together the night's events before dawn.

Mr Stow was heavily involved in this process too. As well as the fire service, the official inquiry involved the police, scientists from the Home Office forensic laboratory at Wetherby, experts from the national fire research station at Boreham Wood, electrical specialists from Leeds University and meteorologists.

Arson was all but ruled out. There was only one entrance to the South Transept roof void and CCTV cameras trained on it did not capture anyone going inside. Little evidence existed to suggest an accident or an electrical fault.

After exhaustive research, the most likely cause was decided. An electrical discharge (officially not lightning - that can only occur with thunder) hit the South Transept roof.

Because the Minster's lightning conductor strips were long, and because the hot, dry conditions increased resistance on the ground, this massive bolt, one million volts strong, travelled along a crack in the stonework.

Looking to earth, it leapt across to a metal junction box inside the South Transept roof and from there to the timbers, which exploded into flames, starting several small fires at once.

The inquiry report to the Home Office gave these estimates as to the probable cause: Arson - ten per cent Electrical fault - ten per cent Atmospheric electrical discharge - 80 per cent.

Improved fire protection was to be built into York Minster after July 9, 1984, including permanent ventilation ports, better access to the roof and improved lightning conductors.

Mr Stow, now 64 and 13 years retired from the fire service, will never forget standing inside the South Transept "looking up at the sky through the rectangular void" that day 20 years ago.

He said he feels privileged to have been part of the teams that successfully fought the fire, and then investigated its cause.

And he has nothing but awed praise from the York Minster craftsmen who rebuilt Europe's largest Gothic cathedral to such exacting standards.

The North Yorkshire fire service was later awarded the Minster authority's highest honour - the St William's Cross. And who would suggest it was not fully deserved.