2.
The Art of Painting Fire-Warriors
The
two explosions sent fuel core components, structural items, and hot, highly
radioactive debris a kilometre in the air, exposing the destroyed core. On the
rising plume, fission products and virtually all the noble gas inventory were
sent northwest on prevailing winds.
Fires
started in what remained of the Unit 4 building. A hundred fire-fighters from
Pripyat were needed, and it was this group that received the highest radiation
exposures. A first group of fourteen firemen arrived at 1:28 a.m., with
reinforcements following until about 4 a.m., the largest fires on the roof of
the machine hall by then under control; but by then the graphite fire had
started.
The intense heat of it dispersed radio-nuclides and
fission fragments high into the atmosphere. A decision was made to layer the
fire with large amounts of different materials, each one designed to combat a
different feature of the fire and radioactive release.
In the inventory of deaths,
our names
are missing, and the grief
of mourners
is saved for others.
The wreath never laid, the
music never played…
The accident
that hides itself in
chromosomes
lingers too in the party
line, its sly dismissal of our lives
to lesser maladies.
The bureaucrats on long
lunches
took steps, because of us
they weighed
the advantages, trading us
in kind.
The
first measures consisted in dumping neutron-absorbing compounds and fire-control
material into the crater left from the destruction of the reactor. The total
amount of materials dumped was about 5,000 tonnes, including 40 tonnes of boron
compounds, 2,400 of lead, 1,800 of sand and clay, and 600 of dolomite, as well
as sodium phosphate and polymer liquids (Bu93). The emissions continued for
about twenty days.
Our deaths, of course,
annoyed them, our lives
described as reckless and
extreme, a natural by-product
of error, in fatal
repetition.
How many souls to balance
the books?
How many noughts to make
this desperation
come right?
We will never disappear,
understand
we will never disappear, our
sickness is deeper
than their lies, we will
never be silent.
We will rise from our own
graves,
from the earth itself, from
the unchanging earth
that will not accept our
burial.
While
the conventional fires at the site posed no special fire-fighting problems,
very high radiation doses were incurred by firemen, resulting in thirty-one
deaths. Little national or international expertise on fighting graphite fires
existed, and there was a very real fear that any attempt to put it out might
well provoke a criticality excursion in the nuclear fuel.
Rest easy, stranger, out of
time.
We all want something no
longer possible,
a bit more room, a little
breath
that tells of these things,
of our
going out together.
This is the way it ends,
in the last of prayer and
the last of pain.
Rest easy, stranger, out of
time.
In the heaven we imagine,
a fiery tumour swells in the
throats of the liars,
and as they choke, our
corpses rise
and walk through the ruined
towns.
About
150 tonnes of material were dumped on 27 April, followed by 300 tonnes on April
28, 750 tonnes on April 29, 1,500 tonnes on April 30, 1,900 tonnes on May 1,
and 400 tonnes on May 2.
About
1,800 helicopter flights were carried out to dump materials onto the reactor.
During the first flights, the helicopter remained stationary over the reactor
while dumping materials. As the dose rates received by the helicopter pilots
during this procedure were too high, it was decided that the materials should
be dumped while the helicopters travelled over the reactor. This procedure
caused additional destruction of the standing structures and spread the
contamination.
While it was later discovered that many of these
compounds were not actually dropped on the target, they may have acted as
thermal insulators and precipitated an increase in the temperature of the core,
leading to a further release of radio-nuclides a week later.
How is it possible
that I am alive?
I stagger on,
remembering
happiness
that was stalked.
In my thirtieth year
a wet-rot of corpses
crowding my soul.
Harder now to breathe,
I can no longer
hear
my spirit’s own song.
I am poorly
in this silence, its dull
distraction.
How shall I fly,
crippled now,
weary with roads?
Though I reach out
to heaven’s edge,
how shall I soar?
Here are my goodbyes.
In the sky
I recognise faces of those
who are remembered
beyond this nothingness.
Still, the soul remains.
Everything whole,
everything of it, present,
everything of it, in its first
completeness.
How shall we recall what cannot be
forgotten?
I know my duty.
The weight
of it sacrosanct, I hold it to my heart.
So may we all be
obliged.
The further sequence of events is still speculative,
although elucidated with the observation of residual damage to the reactor. It
is suggested that the melted core materials settled to the bottom of the core
shaft with the fuel, forming a metallic layer below the graphite.
On day eight after the accident, the corium melted
through the lower biological shield and flowed onto the floor, enhancing the
radio- nuclide releases, and on contact with water, the corium produced steam,
causing an increase of radio-nuclides at the last stage of the active period.
By
May 9, the graphite fire had been extinguished, and work began on a massive
reinforced concrete slab with a built-in cooling system beneath the reactor.
This involved digging a tunnel from underneath Unit 3. About four hundred
people worked on this tunnel, which was completed in fifteen days, allowing the
installation of the concrete slab. This slab would not only be of use to cool
the core if necessary, it would also act as a barrier to prevent penetration of
melted radioactive material into the groundwater.
I continue to the last.
Endless time, I know you better now.
I am dizzy with the thought
of last goodbyes.
Whom shall I adore?
You, stranger, by chance
passing?
I shall never know you, except
in your smile, the wry, sidelong look.
Your eyes follow me, bewildered
by my love for you.
This pointless love,
focusing through the stark silence
focusing through the stark silence
of abandoned villages,
the absurdity of grudges
the absurdity of grudges
and confessional splendour.
Fortune is a trifling thing, success, too.
The pining for wealth, paltry.
How much for last year’s snow? Tell me
the worth of what has passed your
understanding
of humanity.
This is my joy, returning home
to my friends, kinship’s debt, for once
without thinking of the ashes
without thinking of the ashes
of my home, or the burden
of bowing down.
What life is left to me?
What days
remain?
A month is ash in my hand.
Here is love,
my world robed in brightness.
Why now,
Why now,
this fire and breathlessness?
Everything burns,
burns.
After the interrogations,
even the ashes disappeared.
Yet the soul lives on, the ashes
that disappeared
rise up, reckless with new life.
So shall breath, so shall I live.
I am standing in cool flame.
Inferno, I step forward
for you.
Your hands, merciful.
My love, to protect you,
here is heaven’s broad shield.
No comments:
Post a Comment