IT was a morning routine so many were used to - boarding the early train and grabbing a quick cup of coffee from the buffet car ahead of a day's work.

But February 28, 2001, was to be a day unlike any other for 100 passengers on board the 4.45am from Newcastle.

Five minutes after the first passengers clambered, bleary-eyed, on to the early morning train at Newcastle Central Station, a man they had never met left his Lincolnshire home and started his Land Rover. Their lives collided at 6.15am outside Great Heck in North Yorkshire.

As the London-bound GNER express hurtled towards its next stop at 125mph, Gary Hart was standing by the trackside screaming into his mobile phone in a last-gasp attempt to avoid the impending tragedy.

It was too late.

Dazed and standing on an anonymous embankment, unsure of his exact location, Hart turned to see the ill-fated train speeding towards his Land Rover and trailer, stranded on the railway line.

"Oh my God," 999 operator Sarah Pratt screamed as a deafening screech of grinding metal and a thunderous bang were heard in the background.

The express was derailed but stayed upright, continuing for a further 500 metres before it smashed head-on into a freight train laden with more than 1,000 tonnes of coal.

British Transport Police later said the train would have required one-and-a-quarter miles to stop in a normal emergency breaking situation.

The driver's carriage was completely destroyed by the impact, while the middle carriage broke away and landed in a field.

Villagers in Great Heck woke to find a scene of absolute devastation on their very doorsteps.

Peter Hintz came out of his railside home to find his garden and summer house had been wiped out in the smash, while two caravans had been destroyed. Coal from the freight train had spilled to within three yards of his home and wheels from the train were strewn nearby.

"We heard this screeching and scraping noise and knew something awful had happened," he said.

Fleets of ambulances, scores of firefighters and paramedics, as well as three RAF Sea King helicopters, dashed to the scene to launch a massive and complex rescue operation. Emergency staff at hospitals in York, Pontefract, Hull, Doncaster and Wakefield were called in to deal with the scores of casualties.

Meanwhile, in driving snow and freezing winds, rescue workers battled to cut people from the wreckage.

A nearby barn was transformed into a field hospital, as rescuers repeatedly swept the wreckage with thermal imaging cameras and vibraphones.

Deputy Prime Minister John Prescott arrived at the crash site just before 1pm. As he stood on the bridge overlooking Great Heck, he spoke of an "appalling tragedy" and pledged that it would be "subject to the fullest investigation."

Below him, just moments later, the last survivor was pulled from the wreckage.

But ten people lay still inside - ten people who had stood in the early morning chill on the platform as Gary Hart left his home.

And they left ten families who would never forget the name of Gary Hart