A young French survivor has given a harrowing firsthand account of the deadly New Year’s Eve fire at Le Constellation bar in Crans-Montana, Switzerland, describing how he escaped the blaze only to re-enter the burning building twice to rescue others, despite suffering burns and severe smoke inhalation. The January 1, 2026, inferno claimed at least 40 lives and left over 100 people injured, many with life-altering burns. The survivor’s story highlights both extraordinary courage and glaring safety failures that turned a festive night into one of Switzerland’s worst modern tragedies.

The 19-year-old, whose identity has been protected in media reports to focus on his testimony rather than personal details, was among a group of seven friends and family members—including four minors under 18—celebrating the new year at the popular basement venue. Known for its upscale crowd and lively atmosphere, Le Constellation was packed with revelers enjoying champagne and fireworks displays. According to the survivor’s interview with international outlets, the disaster began when fireworks set off inside the bar ignited bottles on tables and then spread rapidly to the foam insulation on the ceiling.

“I felt this fire burn over my head,” he recounted, describing a sudden “fireball” that scorched his neck slightly as flames erupted. Thick, choking smoke filled the space almost immediately, making it impossible to see or breathe. Panic ensued as people rushed toward the main exits, which quickly became overwhelmed. The survivor managed to escape initially but realized his brother Valentin, girlfriend, and friends were still inside or trapped nearby.

Driven by desperation, he re-entered the inferno. In his first return, he found an unconscious person on the stairs—severely burned and unrecognizable except for visible teeth. He carried the victim out and handed them over to arriving firefighters. Moments later, despite the unbearable heat and smoke, he went back a second time, searching for more people but finding the area already emptying as first responders took control. He located his group: his brother had been pulled out but was critically injured, along with the others who suffered extensive burns.

The group was directed to a nearby sports center converted into a triage area. Emergency personnel provided foil blankets, cooling gel masks, water, and sugar packets to help victims stay conscious and combat shock. Medics used a color-coded system—green for minor injuries, yellow for moderate, red for severe, and black for those presumed beyond help and transported directly to hospitals. The survivor assisted by distributing aid and helping carry patients on improvised stretchers, all while grappling with his own minor burns and the trauma of what he had witnessed.

His brother Valentin remains in an induced coma at a specialized burn unit. Doctors report stable vital signs, with severe burns to his back, hands, and wrists, though his face was less affected. Valentin has shown responsiveness by nodding to family members, offering a sliver of hope amid the grief. The other friends and girlfriend are conscious and stable, expected to recover physically from their burns, though psychological scars will linger for years.

The survivor’s account places heavy blame on the venue’s operators. He described the absence of proper emergency exits as a fatal flaw: “It was impossible for people to get out quickly.” Flammable foam roofing material accelerated the fire’s spread, and the use of indoor fireworks near combustible decorations compounded the danger. Swiss authorities have launched a full investigation into potential manslaughter by negligence, examining building permits, fire safety compliance, crowd capacity limits, and whether warnings about hazardous materials were ignored.

Eyewitnesses across social media and news reports echoed similar horrors: screams drowned out by crackling flames, people forcing windows with bar stools to escape, and bodies so badly charred that identification relied on dental records or personal items. First responders arrived within minutes but faced challenges accessing the basement layout. The sports center triage became a scene of quiet determination as volunteers and medics worked through the night.

Crans-Montana, a luxury ski resort frequented by affluent visitors, was plunged into mourning. Vigils with candles and flowers appeared near the charred remains of Le Constellation. Funds have been established to support victims’ families, and counseling services expanded for survivors dealing with survivor’s guilt and PTSD. The incident has sparked nationwide calls for stricter nightclub regulations in alpine tourist areas, where seasonal crowds and alcohol-fueled events heighten risks.

For the young Frenchman, the night redefined bravery. He downplayed his actions as instinctive—”I couldn’t leave them”—but his repeated returns into the smoke-filled hell saved lives that might otherwise have been lost. His brother’s fight for recovery continues, with family members maintaining bedside vigils and sharing updates that inspire global support.

The Le Constellation fire serves as a tragic reminder of how fragile safety can be in crowded entertainment venues. What began as joy and fireworks ended in loss and heroism. As investigations unfold and victims heal, the survivor’s words resonate: in the face of unimaginable danger, ordinary people can summon extraordinary courage. Prayers continue for Valentin’s awakening and for all those scarred by that fateful New Year’s dawn.