STRANGERS in the NIGHT:

A football club founded in Newton Heath in 1878 and all but wiped out on a German runway eighty years on had reached the lowest point in its history.

With a future uncertain and spirit broken it was a question of tossing a coin and calling either salvation or disaster. But in time honoured tradition, despite broken hearts and unhealed wounds the show went on and just thirteen days after the catastrophic air crash Manchester United prepared to host Sheffield Wednesday in an FA Cup fifth round clash. With their flag flying at half mast over the ground as a mark of respect for the victims, those left behind prepared for a game that would go down in the folklore of Manchester United football club.

Four hours before kick off bedlam reigned outside Old Trafford with thousands of supporters desperately on the lookout for match tickets. It was an insatiable desire that could never be met and with passions running high what should have been a solemn occasion threatened at times to spiral out of control with extra police drafted in to help keep the huge crowds in order.

Whilst most simply stood milling around uncertain of what to do, say or feel, others looked to cash in. Ticket touts found rich pickings as they made a quick killing by demanding treble the normal value. But In doing so they risked life and limb with some supporters regarding them as merely vultures picking the bones of their dead players. As emotions overflowed trouble inevitably flared around the ground with many touts given a good hiding and relieved of their tickets.

Such was the dire extent of United's plight Jimmy Murphy found himself unable to name a team when asked by the match programme editor. To enable the programme went to press on time a decision was taken to leave the home team sheet blank. Since the grim Reaper had ripped the heart out of the 'Red Devils' Murphy had begged, borrowed, bought and stolen to ensure United remained in business on the pitch.

He worked endlessly to bring in reinforcements for those who had perished. Then there were the funerals to attend, each soul destroying, harrowing and causing Murphy untold heartache. But amidst all the deaths, tears and sadness it was essential that albeit if only slight, a sense of normality carried on. At 5-30, two hours before the match began and with thousands still searching desperately for tickets the decision was taken to lock the gates.

This meant there would be no full house for such was the chaos caused by the crowds those with tickets could not get near the entrance turnstiles. The official attendance was later given as 59,848, 7000 below capacity. Meanwhile those lucky enough to be inside the stadium paid 4d for their match program. The United Review. On its front cover club Chairman Harold P Hardman had penned the following:

'Although we mourn our dead and grieve for our wounded we believe that great days
are not done for us. The sympathy and encouragement of the football world and
Particularly of our supporters will justify and inspire us. The road back may be long
and hard but with the memory of those who died at Munich, of their stirring
achievements and wonderful sportsmanship ever with us,

Manchester United will rise again'......

For United supporters there followed the harsh reality of reading the team sheets. On the bottom of the centre pages the Sheffield Wednesday players were as listed: Ryalls, Martin, Curtis, Kay, Swan, O'donnell, Wilkinson, Quixall, Johnson, Froggatt, Cargill. But United's? A poignancy beyond mere words, just eleven empty spaces.

To honour those who died many supporters came dressed in black overcoats whilst adorning red/white scarves around their wrist or necks. It was like a funeral without a burial service. The constant cheers of 'United' thundering out from the packed terraces giving the impression of this being just another game. But then those who sang did so with tears streaming down their faces for a football club that had been brought to its knees.

A dreadful silence greeted the naming of Manchester United's team over the loudspeaker broken only by sobbing or the screaming out loud of a dead player's name. In a voice shaking with emotion the tannoy announcer carried out his painful task, firstly asking for spectators to write in the names on the program sheet left blank.But few did, simply preferring to listen and weep. He continued: 'Gregg, Foulkes, Greaves, Goodwin, Cope, Crowther, Webster, Taylor E, Dawson, Pearson, Brennan'. Of those named only two were survivors of the plane crash. Irish international Goalkeeper Harry Gregg and defender Bill Foulkes.

Both men were in a state of bewilderment, utterly traumatised by their experiences. But the monumental scale of United's dilemma meant that Jimmy Murphy was left with little option but to ask Gregg and Foulkes to help keep the red flag flying. If not high then at last half mast. The rest of the side was a hotch-potch concoction of promising youth and reserve players allied together with those who had been brought in to see the club merely through this eye of the storm they faced rather than anything resembling long term.

Beyond that infamous Munich runway came a new red dawn. For those chosen to carry on the fight it would sadly be a case of drown or cover yourself in glory. Jimmy Murphy had few options with what he had left. Ian Greaves came in at left-back for United Captain Roger Byrne and his usual deputy Geoff Bent, both dead.
Freddie Goodwin at right-half for Eddie Colman, dead. Ronnie Cope was at centre-half for Mark Jones also killed and Jackie Blanchflower, so seriously hurt that his career was over. Colin Webster on the right-wing for Johnny Berry, he like Blanchflower soon to be forced into injury-related retirement.

At centre-forward Alex Dawson led the attack, bravely attempting to follow in the footsteps of the late much-lamented Tommy Taylor. Shay Brennan and Mark Pearson filled in for the injured Denis Viollet and David Pegg. Dead. Alongside the youngsters were two newcomers. Blackpool's inside-forward Ernie Taylor and signed only an hour and sixteen minutes before kick-off for £32,000, Aston Villa's, hard tackling, twenty-three year old wing-half Stan Crowther. The latter being handed the ominous task of replacing Duncan Edwards, who that time was still fighting for his life in Munich.

After having already played for Villa in the FA Cup previously Crowther received special dispensation from the football authorities to play for United in their darkest hour. At first he was dubious about the move to Manchester, claiming he was happily settled in the Midlands. Crowther resisted until the very end, only finally relenting to the irresistible charm and sheer fervour of Jimmy Murphy.

The appearance of Munich survivors Harry Gregg and Bill Foulkes as the first two United players out of the tunnel into full view of the crowd brought the atmosphere inside Old Trafford which was already bordering close to boiling point beyond the point of no return. The other followed, so many new faces in red shirts, these 'Strangers in the night'.

The referee Mr A Bond from London called the two Captains together, Bill Foulkes and Albert Quixall. Foulkes later recalled the moment: 'We shook hands and i looked at Albert and he looked at me and neither of us wanted to play. It was like what are we doing here'? There followed a one minute silence in honour of those killed.

Even hard nose policemen told by superiors to always keep a stiff upper lip were seen with tears rolling down their faces. Old Trafford has witnessed many nights both before and after that have left unforgettable scenes of drama but none ever came remotely close to matching what occurred on that fateful February evening of Wednesday 19th February 1958.

Earlier in the season Sheffield Wednesday had gone to Old Trafford and given the 'Busby's Babes' an almighty fright going down in a close fought match by just
2-1. If only on paper when all considered the visitors from across the Pennines had been handed a great opportunity to beat the 'new' United and earn themselves a place in the quarter finals.

Unfortunately for Sheffield Wednesday they were up against not merely eleven players in red but a sheer tidal wave of human emotion that ultimately overwhelmed them. In a rip-roaring opening Murphy's patched up Manchester United tore into the Yorkshiremen. Sheffield Wednesday were a good side that included England internationals Albert Quixall and Tony Kay in their line-up.

But they appeared shell-shocked by the sheer cacophony of noise and furore that swept down from the Old Trafford terraces that night. Albert Quixall who himself signed for United the following September would later say: 'We were playing more than just eleven players, we were playing 60,000 fans as well'. With Stan Crowther crashing into tackles and Ernie Taylor the playmaker, constantly encouraging the youngsters around him United played out of their skins. On fifteen minutes Taylor nearly opened the scoring when his fierce drive from twenty yards smashed against the Wednesday post.

With the crowd roaring them on a goal had to come and on twenty seven minutes it arrived from a most unlikely source. Deputising as a left winger, it was one of the new boys, twenty- year old Shay Brennan who scored direct from a corner after goalkeeper Ryalls fumbled the ball in on his goal line. The affable young Irishman had only been informed that same morning he would be playing and as his team mates celebrated with him, as Jimmy Murphy punched the air in salute on the touchline, as Old Trafford exploded like never before, Brennan found himself becoming an instant hero.

As the game wore on it became blatantly obvious to neutrals that the Sheffield players were clearly not up to spoiling what was in all essence a cruel contest. Who would ever wish to cause upset at a wake? Throughout United's football was full of fire and heart, momentarily thrilling at times but overall at best patchy.
Murphy's scratch team giving everything but showing clearly a lack of understanding and indeed class in certain positions.

Yet still they defied all logic by playing well above themselves. United hammered away endlessly at the Sheffield Wednesday goal, shots rained in but it wasn't until twenty minutes from time that they finally made another count when once more the unlikely Shay Brennan seized onto a rebound from close-range and flashed a shot past Ryalls.

Five minutes from the end it was 3-0 when eighteen-year-old Scottish born centre-forward Alex Dawson, the son of an Aberdonian trawlerman capped a memorable night by striking a third low and hard into a besieged Ryall's net confirming Manchester United's place in the FA Cup quarter finals.
It had been a remarkable performance by Murphy's boys and men during those ninety electrifying minutes as they ran and fought like dervishes for the cause.

For all concerned the searing pain of Munich slightly easing only to surface once more in the cold light of the final whistle. On the pitch most of the United youngsters were in tears with the overwhelming emotion of the evening taking its heavy toll. Once in the sanctity of the dressing room Jimmy Murphy addressed his team and told them how proud the lads who died at Munich would have been of them.

Then he too broke down and had to be consoled. Both Harry Gregg and Bill Foulkes simply sat quietly remembering dead friends, their hearts and minds still languishing amidst the snow and ice of that far away German runway. A Pathe news crew arrived armed with a bottle of bubbly to present the players as celebrating a great victory. But when viewed there are few smiles to be seen.

It was a job well done and no more. Manchester United had proved they were not yet willing to go gently into the night, for the coin had been tossed and it had landed on salvation. The Red Devils were still alive and ready to fight another day.

Two days later Duncan Edwards lost his fight for life. He was the eighth United player to die and was just twenty-one years old.

John Ludden:

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