Chilean Miners Rescued, But Were They Saved?

It attracted more than a billion viewers worldwide - one of the most watched television events ever: people were mesmerized as the 33 Chilean miners stepped from darkness into light. It might have been the greatest rescue operation since Noah's Ark. And the miners? They were lionized, living proof that in this software century courage and endurance have not disappeared.

They're back home now in Copiapó, a mining town planted in the driest desert in the world. "60 Minutes" traveled to Chile to check out how they're doing and to find out what was really going on those 69 days half a mile under the Earth.

Before the rescue, the 33 made a pact of silence. Nonetheless, several opened up to us and talked about things they had been keeping to themselves. As you will find out, much of their story hasn't been told.

Segment: Los 33
Extra: President Believed Miners Were Alive
Extra: Keeping Routines While Trapped
Extra: The Red Paint Moment
Extra: Is Mario Ok?
Pictures: Chile, Return to the Mine

Four months ago, the area around the San Jose Mine was the stage for one of the most compelling dramas of our time. There's not the slightest trace of that now - not even an empty Coke can.

The miners were five hours into the day shift when their world collapsed. Workers on the surface said it sounded like a volcano exploding. It was a shock, they said, but not a surprise. The San Jose Mine had one of the worst safety records in the region.

The first rescue team didn't get very far, as the underground road was blocked by a boulder twice the weight of the Empire State Building. Were the 33 still alive? The odds were put at two percent.

Half a mile underground, Victor Zamora was repairing the roof of the mine when the force of the collapse plastered him against a wall. He stumbled to the shelter where food was meant to be stored for just such an emergency. There was enough for a couple of picnics.

Asked how he and the others reacted to it, Zamora told "60 Minutes" correspondent Bob Simon, "We were so mad. There was almost nothing there. We couldn't believe that we were supposed to survive with so little. We were treated even worse than animals. It was shocking."

Three days after the collapse the rescue teams started sending probes down. Trouble was, they had no idea where the miners were. All they had were sketches which were outdated and inaccurate.

But they kept on drilling, day and night. The noise was deafening. The miners would hear the probes come close and then stop. It drove them crazy.

But once, mechanic Alex Vega thought he heard salvation. "I'd say the probe went by no more than two meters from our shelter," he remembered. "It went by real close."

"Do you remember what you felt when you realized that the probe was not going to come where you were?" Simon asked.

"Yes, I lost hope. I was desperate," Vega said.

And so were the families who pitched tents outside the mine. They called it "Camp Hope." And some never lost it, even though for 16 days, there was no sign of life. What the families didn't know - and what has not been reported until now - is just how close their men came to doing themselves in.

"I said to a friend, 'Well, if we're gonna continue suffering, it would be better for us to all go to the shelter, start an engine and with the carbon monoxide, just let ourselves go,'" Zamora remembered.

Asked if he was the only one who felt that way, or if others also thought of it, Zamora said, "I think all of us."

"All of you were thinking about committing suicide?" Simon asked.

"At that moment, it wasn't really committing suicide. It was to not continue suffering. We were going to die anyway," Zamora replied.

We wanted to get some idea of what it must have been like down there. So we asked writer Jonathan Franklin, who obtained a backstage pass to the rescue operation, to take us down a nearby mine. The mine we visited had once been run by the same company.

We had to scramble over rocks and rubble in pitch-black tunnels to get where we wanted to go, to the part of the mine which most resembled the diabolical world where the men were entombed half a mile underground.

"Now, we all knew that the miners spent 69 days underground. We knew it. But, being down here is knowing it. Knowing it really - I mean the idea of 69 days here is terrifying," Simon remarked, while touring the pitch-black mine.

"We're only one quarter of the depth that they were. One quarter. You'd have to go down another 500 meters. Where they were, it was wet and humid," Franklin said.

Even under these conditions, the men maintained remarkable discipline. They voted on everything, and they stuck to a daily schedule - a general meeting, followed by a prayer service. Then, they had what they called dinner.

Franklin, who gained unprecedented access to the miners, has written a book called "33 Men." He says the men always divided their food evenly even when they were down to one teaspoon of tuna every 48 hours.

But by day 16, Franklin says the miners were all starving and realized they would have to eat the first man who died.

"They told me that they had a pot and a saw ready," Franklin explained.

"Do you think that the potential candidates knew who they were?" Simon asked.

"One of the candidates told me that the guys had been joking, 'Hey, if you die in your sleep, you know, you're gonna be breakfast, lunch and dinner.' So those last few nights he said he couldn't sleep. He was too afraid that if he died that his companions would end up eating him," Franklin said.

Mario Sepulveda, who emerged as the leader of the group early on, says he thought it was only a matter of time.

"How long do you think it would have been before you had to do it?" Simon asked.

"I would say five or ten days. I don't know. But I was gonna get out of there no matter what. Food, or no food, I was gonna get out of there. How? I had to think about which miner was going to collapse first and then I started thinking about how I was going to eat him, I promise you, I wasn't embarrassed, I wasn't scared," Sepulveda said.

But they were saved by the drill. On day 17, it came punching through the ceiling. All thoughts of cannibalism and suicide disappeared into the dust.

Asked if he remembers what he was feeling when the drill finally broke through, Victor Zamora said, "I was so weak I couldn't even stand and then all of a sudden I found myself jumping for joy. It was like celebrating New Year or having a newborn child."

Rescuers on the surface heard pounding on the drill. When they pulled it up, they saw red paint on it. Then they found a note attached to the bit. It said "We are fine in the refuge, the 33."

They sent down a camera and the world peered into the dark eyes of a stunned survivor. Then, there they were, 33 haunted men trying to appear cheerful, to wave, to smile for their families. They just couldn't pull it off. Some had lost 50 pounds.

Sepulveda played the host in what became a reality show, a sort of "Survivor Underground."He took viewers around what had become their home - the "casino," "clinic," and the "post office."

And that's where conflicts with the rescuers began. Psychologists were censoring and tampering with the letters the miners wrote and received. They wanted to keep the messages light and cheerful. The 33 were outraged.

"They treated us like we were completely ignorant, stupid. It was totally unacceptable that they were reading intimate things we were writing to our wives," Sepulveda said.

"I understand that you guys got so angry that there was something of a mutiny," Simon remarked.

"There were some really tense moments. Yes," Sepulveda acknowledged.

But tension turned into joy on day 69, the day of liberation. The fittest men went up first. Sepulveda was the second to reach the top. He seemed happy to be there.

Victor Zamora, the roof repairman, made a movie of it all, including the rescuer's landing, getting suited up for the ride, and then the lift off and 20 minutes in a magic capsule. Also captured on tape were the docking and a love scene, when he was reunited with a loved one. Hollywood couldn't have done better.

The 33 were treated to a victory tour. Highlights: meetings with America's top celebrities, galas, where they just kept on receiving awards, and an appearance on David Letterman's show.

Miner Edison Peña didn't have the slightest idea who Letterman man was, but he was having a wonderful time.

Back in Copiapó though, Peña was hospitalized for anxiety and depression, and he was not alone: Mario Sepulveda, that most exuberant of men, is on heavy medication. The oldest miner, Mario Gomez, finds it impossible to sleep.

And Alex Vega can't explain why he's doing it, but he's building a wall around his house.

"Whenever I hear a noise, I get scared and look all around me. My heart beats faster. I can't go into small spaces. I'm taking five or six pills a day now. If I don't take them, I wouldn't even be able to sit with you," Vega said.

All but one of the 33 men, doctors say, have suffered severe psychological problems since the accident. And the miners complain they're not getting the quality medical care and benefits they need and were promised. Nineteen of them have already lost their disability payments.

"A couple of the miners told me that they feel like they're soldiers. They're heroes during the war, and when the war is over, they're forgotten," Simon told Chilean President Sebastian Piñera.

"Well, that's part of life. That's part of human nature. They were heroes. They will always be heroes," President Piñera replied.

"You know, if any of these miners get really ill, the story could still have an unhappy ending, couldn't it?" Simon remarked.

"Yes. Yes. And we are worried about that. But each of them, have to come back to their normal lives. To their families. Find a new job," the president replied.

"That's what the president said to you. What do you say to the president?" Simon asked Alex Vega.

"I'm an underground mining mechanic. That's what I do and I won't be able to do it anymore," Vega replied.

Asked what he wants to do, Vega said, "I've tried to work fixing a car. But I lose my concentration very quickly. I forget things. Right now, I don't know what's gonna happen with my future."

And Victor Zamora? He walked with us to the mine. It was his first time back since the accident. He told us he feels he still hasn't been rescued.

"Before I went in here, I was a happy guy. But now, I'm having nightmares, I'm having problems. I'm not the same person," Zamora told Simon.

Asked what kind of nightmares he is having, Zamora said, "Being trapped, watching my friends around me die. Rocks falling. The other me is still in there."

"Do you miss him?" Simon asked.

Zamora nods. "I can't have a normal relationship with my family…I'm not as affectionate with my child as I was before. It's very difficult," he replied.

"What's it like just looking at this place now?" Simon asked.

"Sadness, lots of sadness. I'd prefer to be dead," he replied.

Even today, not everyone understands what can happen to people after they've been in hell. But the miners know. They say the mine is a vengeful goddess who exacts a price for her copper. Sometimes the price is death, sometimes survival.

Produced by Michael Gavshon and Drew Magratten