fence at the end of the runway, then I blacked out. At about eight or nine o’clock that night, two German reporters went back to the plane to look for something and I was still there. I was the last out. Once the plane hit the fence, it had pushed me underneath the plane to the luggage compartment at the back. I woke up on the Sunday morning, with Albert Scanlon, Bobby Charlton and Ray Wood and thought the other players would be in a different room. Then the professor of the hospital came round and told me of the players that had died, and said that Matt, Johnny Berry and Duncan Edwards were upstairs."
Picking up the pieces
“You don’t get over something like that. I’ve got the last line-up of the team in my lounge and I see the boys every time I get up and go downstairs. I was lucky because Duncan Edwards lived just two doors down from my digs, and Tommy Taylor was five doors away. I used to call for them to train every morning for three months, so I got to know them like brothers. I missed them a lot.
“I came back from the crash on the train with Dennis Viollet. He was told not to kick a ball for a year. I was home for a week and Jimmy Murphy came to get me because he said we had no players – and no wingers. I played in a few games up to Wembley, I was picked on the Friday night to play [in the final] – so I was over the moon. I thought ‘I could play my heart out for the players that died’. Walking round the ground, Jimmy came up and told me he wasn’t going to play me because he thought the atmosphere in the ground would be too much. I wasn’t very pleased. A fortnight later he picked me for the Milan game at Old Trafford and told me he was sorry he hadn’t played me at Wembley because I’d have won the game for him. I played my heart out that night, I was man of the match against Milan. Then I just sort of packed my career in – I just didn’t want to play in the first