As every morning, Sylvain Lambert, dairy farmer in Seine-Maritime, rises for the first milking of 5:30. But for a week, the enthusiasm is not there. Precautionary principle requires, the farmer is forced to dump the 4,000 liters of milk that his Norman farm produces every day in the nearby plain. "It hurts to get up every morning to do that ..." says the breeder, disillusioned. His family farm located in the small rural town of La Vieux-Rue, is located northwest of Rouen, less than 20 kilometers from where occurred the fire of the plant Lubrizol on the night of 25 to September 26th.

>> To read: "Fire in Rouen: farmers lament damage to their crops"

But no question for the breeder to criticize these precautionary measures. The Chamber of Agriculture and the union union have done well to alert the prefecture to stop deliveries of milk, he said. "I would have felt bad to distribute milk that presents a lower risk for consumers.The important thing is to show that we are doing our job seriously so as not to lose the trust of consumers."

{{scope.counterText}}

{{scope.legend}} © {{scope.credits}}

{{scope.counterText}}

i

{{scope.legend}}

© {{scope.credits}}

Some "fart cables"

However, the financial situation of the GAEC (agricultural group operating jointly) that he runs since 1994 with his brother-in-law, is far from idyllic. "Without the receipt of money, with all the charges, taxes and deadlines of borrowing that will not be long, we will not be able to hold very long in this situation." Some farmers with cash and fragile morale - the two are often linked - "fart cables," recognizes the father.

Time is running out and the results of the analyzes, made in the first days after the fire, are slow. In the midst of all these uncertainties, the 53-year-old breeder admits he is still lucky. First because he can count on his partner to give himself courage. He is also fortunate to have a woman working outside to bring home pay. Finally, because he was able to harvest his corn and store it in silo before the fire broke out. He can feed his animals. This is not the case for everyone. "Fortunately, the solidarity has spontaneously organized, those who have nothing to give their animals can rely on the neighboring farmers, spared by the fire.The situation could show us that there was a real solidarity in the peasant world. "

The buzzer's telephone ringing sounds. The vet wants to know if he wants to stagger the next bill. The farmer agrees. At all levels, solidarity is organized.

Powerless, in the middle of the bunkers of soaked with soot, Sylvain Lambert, does not nourish any grudge vis-à-vis the makers of the factory Lubrizol. He wants more from the fire manager. And to the prefecture, which did not take, according to him, the measure of the event.

The rest, he does not know it. From family memory, one has never known such a situation on the farm of the Beech. The Norman breeder hopes to quickly sell his milk again. By next week, cows should be calving. We do not know the consequences of soot on young calves. "We'll see," he says thoughtfully.

Police on the verge of a nervous breakdown

Atmosphere just as gloomy in the premises of the police station in Rouen. The 150 agents who were dispatched to the burning Seveso site do not flee. Mobilized from the first hours on the scene of the disaster to ensure their safety, they blame their hierarchy for putting them in danger.

"When they went on a mission, the men did not even know they were going to a Seveso site, so it's useless to tell you that they were not equipped accordingly," explains Frédéric Desguerre, regional secretary (Normandy) SGP police unit.

"The police are absolutely not prepared to handle this kind of Seveso risk situation," said Frédéric Desgerre, regional secretary (Normanie) SGP Police Unit. Aude Mazoué, France 24

Some have received FFP2 disposable protective masks after several hours of intervention, but these protections are effective only a few hours. For want of anything better, "some even used masks of dentists, so to speak, nothing at all," laments the trade union leader.

As a result, most of them complained of headaches and nausea, according to the police union. Three CRS agents went to the emergency room, three were placed on sick leave and 29 claimed to have consulted a doctor after the mission.

Rouen, risk area

This is not the first time the industry has been affected by a chemical hazard. Already in 2013, the same plant at risk Lubrizol had leaked mercaptan, a gas with a smell of sulfur that may have toxic properties. The records show that at the time, local residents had been caught in chest pain, coughing, nausea, vomiting and diarrhea. More recently, on February 17, 2018, a violent explosion, followed by a fire, occurred at the Saipol plant in Dieppe, about 60 kilometers from Rouen. Two employees had died. "We live in an area at risk, it is inconceivable that we take so few precautions."

It must be said that equipment in this area is rare in the police. "We only have 30 NRB equipment outfits (nuclear radiological or bacteriological)." In case of problems, "we are unable to intervene without taking a risk for our health," says the officer, tired of repeating the same things.

To lack of means is added fatigue. The police are not tired, they are exhausted, after the yellow vests, the G7 in Biarritz and the ministers who come in turn to Rouen, forcing the teams to remain mobilized to ensure their safety, the police officers have the morale Luckily, Lubrizol, we did not need that, "the officer concluded.

The Chernobyl spectrum

A few kilometers away, in the neighboring town of Maromme, his mayor, David Lamiray, is also tired. "It rarely happens to me to complain about fatigue, but there since, a week, I'm exhausted," says the city. Exhausted to make decisions, exhausted to have no information from the prefecture, exhausted by worry.

"In Maromme, residents are worried and resigned at the same time," said Mayor David Lamiray.

"I heard the news, getting up like every morning at a quarter to 4. As I listened to the news, my wife taught me the unimaginable." Without delay, the mayor makes contact with his services and convenes a crisis unit on his own initiative. From then on, he will never stop using the special Seveso risk line connecting elected officials to the prefecture to take the first emergency measures imposed by the situation. In vain. The services of the prefecture remain unreachable. It is only eleven hours after the beginning of the fire that the mayor reaches the prefectural services.

On his own, the elected then makes the decision to put the maximum of people in confinement. Schools, crèches are closed until further notice. All municipal employees are subject to confinement. "I was playing in the playground of my school when the Chernobyl cloud passed over Normandy in 1986. There was no question for me to run the slightest risk to the population," said the Marommais.

Mayor Maromme, near #Rouen, @DavidLamiray says his "anger" at @ Prefet76: "I was warned at 2:25 pm of #lubrizol fire" pic.twitter.com/LztidfhdeC

Raphael Tual (@raphtual) September 30, 2019

The communication of the prefecture, highly inflammable subject

Other mayors of neighboring communes, without a password from the prefecture, preferred not to place the citizens in confinement so as not to frighten the population. "Everyone did what he wanted," sums up the mayor, weary.

The elected is convinced, "we missed a disaster." And the latest information delivered by David Lamiray are far from reassuring: some 160 barrels of hydrogen sulphide, odorless and deadly gas, are currently stored in the plant Lubrizol, still smoking a week after the tragedy. Deformed by the heat of the flames, the barrels are not transportable. Technical teams are hard at work trying to find solutions. "I'm really worried, if a loose barrel, we run to disaster with hundreds of possible deaths."

Asked about the management of the crisis, the prefecture did not respond to our questions.