BRITAIN: Residents are recovering from a day of high drama, writes Frank Millar in Hemel Hempstead
Beyond Heathrow, by Watford, the plume emerged, seeming grey against blue skies and brilliant winter sunlight. Then suddenly black, dense and rising over the trees and rooftops of this classic new town.
The tailback on the approaches to the town centre suggested, surprisingly, business as usual in Hemel Hempstead. Car parks adjacent to shopping centres and the local B&Q seemed pretty packed. Some 70 local schools had been forced to close but plainly some local kids had been recruited by mothers for Christmas shopping expeditions. Local health chiefs had warned residents to keep doors and windows closed and council workers went without masks as they cleared and gathered leaves from the roadsides.
The car park of the local leisure centre, Sportspace, was pretty busy too, only the luminous jackets of emergency workers hinting that the sports facility was home to a different clientele today.
Among the adults and children taking advantage of their enforced day off were evacuees who fled their homes in terror as the first explosions hit the Buncefield fuel depot on Sunday morning.
Rachel Blackhouse was still wearing the tracksuit bottoms and top she grabbed before she and her husband Tom slammed the door behind them and ran down Crest Park with seven-month-old Ellie.
Ellie, who is teething, had woken through the night but then miraculously slept untroubled as the first explosion shook their house. Rachel was still awake as their bed moved and a bright orange ball lit the morning sky. "We thought it was a plane crash at first. I'd never seen anything like it. Then some of my neighbours thought maybe a bomb."
Having spent the night on the floor of a family friend's home, Mr and Mrs Blackhouse contacted the council only yesterday morning and were waiting to be directed to a local hotel for at least one night.
Linda and Peter Gorman left their home in Hailes Park. They spent Sunday night with friends in the Midlands but the dogs were their main problem. The dachschunds Otto and Fritz appeared unphased as their owners waited to learn where home would be for the night.
Linda was already watching television on Sunday morning, having risen at 5.15am to attend to the dogs, when the first blast occurred. "She's screaming my name, I'm screaming hers," said Peter. "The first thing I did was put Sky on. They're always first with the news. After the second and third explosions a policeman banged on the door and told us to get out. I had only minutes to put on my shoes and socks."
Apparently the Gormans' house suffered no structural damage but the immediate concern remained the pollution threat from the plume.
Mr and Mrs Poulton were having breakfast when news of the explosions reached them, on the last day of their holiday in Austria. They and their sons were staying with relatives last night, their biggest immediate frustration being that their youngest son could not access necessary paper work at home in Wood Lane End and would have to cancel his driving test scheduled for this morning.
Louise Oughton, a press officer from the local Dacorum Council, explained that the Poultons were like most of those, mainly on the perimeter of the scene, forced to leave their homes. She estimated the council had to house a relatively small number of people, which she put at about 37. "This is a close community," she explained, "most people would have gone to relatives and friends."
Local police chief inspector David Moore also told The Irish Times that the total number of evacuees was probably closer to 200 than 2,000.
The evacuees included all the residents of the Cherrytree Travellers' camp, who were again waiting to be allocated a local hotel or B&B. Bridget from Galway said there were 31 berths on the site, all occupied. She and her family had lived on the site for about three years and she said Sunday's events would not deter her from going back. Son Michael (12) looked in no hurry yesterday as he tucked into a plate of chips in the cafe and cheerfully told that Sunday morning "was like the end of the world".
As night fell over the town police were still turning property owners away from the Maylands Road entrance to the industrial estate. One officer removed his protective mask to confirm that there had been some incidents of looting, with looters gaining access from surrounding fields, while another officer assured one worried woman: "There are more police on the ground here today than in the Met." Two officers from the Met kept their masks firmly on as the taste of the smoke began to irritate. The plume seemed lower than before, though this may have been a trick of the light, while a change in the wind level cast the plume in several directions across the town.
Police called business and community representatives to a private meeting last night to update them on all the steps taken by the emergency services and the utility companies - water, gas and electricity - to secure the infrastructure before the first controlled returns of business and residents planned for later this morning.
And the Hemel Hempstead sports centre was last night doubling as a one-stop shop to advise people about repairs and insurance as they prepared to rebuild their damaged homes and resume lives touched by an experience few of them will ever forget.