Read Fearless on Everest: The Quest for Sandy Irvine Online
Authors: Julie Summers
Tags: #Mountains, #Mount (China and Nepal), #Description and Travel, #Nature, #Adventurers & Explorers, #Andrew, #Mountaineering, #Mountaineers, #Great Britain, #Ecosystems & Habitats, #General, #Biography & Autobiography, #Irvine, #Everest
By 12 June all the remaining expedition members were gathered in Base Camp where they were greeted by spring. Alpine flowers were dotted here and there amongst the stones and the relative comforts of the mess tent, camp beds, decent food and a bath were much appreciated by all the men. ‘Had lovely night in camp bed & 1
st
bath for a month’, Odell wrote in his diary on 13 June. But despite the spring flowers and the comforts of Base Camp they were a sad little party. They accepted the loss of the two men ‘in that rational spirit which all of our generation had learnt in the Great War … but the tragedy was very near; our friends’ vacant tents and vacant places at table were a constant reminder to us.’ Norton admitted that he felt the loss of Mallory very deeply. They had climbed together both in 1922 and 1924, shared tents, planned and campaigned their assaults on the mountain; ‘the sense of loss was acute and personal’. Odell was similarly affected by the loss of Sandy. Moreover he felt responsible that he had persuaded Sandy to come out to Everest, to pit his strength against the mountain and, tragically, in this, his greatest race, to fail. To Odell fell the unenviable task of sorting through his belongings, deciding what should be burned and what could usefully be sent back to his family in England. He carried out the same process with Mallory’s affairs and finally, on Saturday 14 June, Ember Day, he labelled the cases and burnt the rest of the kit along with several old boxes and stores which they would not be transporting back to Darjeeling. Amongst the possessions he kept for Sandy’s family were some very personal items, his passport, his wallet, the patch from his rucksack which bore his name. There was also a pressure kettle which Sandy had taken to Everest in the hope that it would boil water more efficiently at altitude than a normal one. Sandy’s eccentricities were encapsulated in the small package of articles that were returned to England. It was to be as fitting an epitaph as much of what was later written about his great exploits. Like several other people, Odell had seen beyond the brave young hero and had come to have deep affection for the heart of this extraordinary young man. When all the items Odell returned were unearthed this year I had a great sense of that affection. It was deeply moving and it brought me closer to an understanding of what Sandy meant to other people.
There was never any question of a further attempt for the summit that year. The monsoon would be breaking within the next few days and besides, Hingston had made a medical assessment of all the men and declared that any further exposure to high altitude might result in some permanent damage. All the climbers showed some dilation of the heart, they were all debilitated and much ‘wasted’, having lost as much as 28 lbs in some cases.
Norton called a meeting to discuss the tragedy and to consider the facts. It was then that the debate began as to what had happened to Mallory and Sandy on 8 June. Odell was convinced, despite Mallory’s insistence that he would take no risks on the final climb, he had been overcome by his obsession for victory. He felt equally strongly about Sandy’s desire for success. ‘Sandy I know was willing, nay, determined, to expend his last ounce of energy, to “go all out”, as he put it, in an utmost effort to reach the top: for had not his whole training in another hardy pursuit been to inculcate the faculty of supreme final effort?’ Basing this judgement on his own experience of climbing in the Alps or other places, where good sense dictates that a turn-around is in order but the desire to climb in a race with darkness or in the teeth of a gale is overwhelming, he concluded ‘who of us … could hold back when such a victory, such a triumph of human endeavour, was within our grasp?’ He held the belief that they had probably succeeded in reaching the summit and that they had been benighted on the mountain and died of exposure. This view was quite at odds with that held by Norton and the others who were all convinced that they had fallen to their deaths in a simple mountaineering accident. Norton put the odds at their having made it at 50/50. Whilst Odell held that men with the skill and determination of Mallory and Sandy could never have fallen, Norton argued most convincingly that, in his experience, the snow-covered slabs on which they were climbing would have been treacherous and even the most experienced mountaineer might slip. He was also certain that, had the men been benighted on the mountain, the party at the North Col would have seen some kind of light signal from the torches or flares that he believed strongly they were carrying. An elaborate code of light signals had been worked out between the climbers and as 8 June had been a clear, dark night he was certain a light would have been visible. This argument convinced all the expedition members except Odell who remained a dissenting voice until the end of his life. What Odell had was a real knowledge of the two men, of their desires and their weaknesses. He understood their only too human condition and this, more than anything else, convinced him that they had not given up their goal without a fight.
Norton allotted tasks to all the remaining members of the expedition as they planned their return to Darjeeling. Odell was occupied with sorting through, and packing, Mallory and Sandy’s belongings. Somervell and Beetham were commissioned to construct a monument to the twelve men who had lost their lives in the three British Everest expeditions. It was a big undertaking and Beetham, with a gang of assistants cut simple inscriptions into large flat slabs of blue slaty rock that left a white surface when chipped. Somervell, with all the porters who could be spared from other duties, constructed a solid square plinth of big rocks, three feet high and some fifteen feet square. Onto this plinth he set a cone of glacier-worn rocks and the inscribed slates were incorporated into the side of the monument which overlooked Base Camp. The whole cairn stood ten feet high and the inscription read: ‘In memory of three Everest Expeditions. 1921 Kellas, 1922 Lhakpa, Narbu, Pasang, Pemba, Sange, Temba, Antarge, 1924 Mallory, Irvine, Shamsher, Manbahadur.’ As this work was being carried out, the transport officers made preparations for the return journey, Hazard undertook to make a diversion from the trek to carry out the remaining survey work, the mapping of the West Rongbuk Glacier and Norton wrote letters to Ruth Mallory and Willie Irvine, giving them as much detail as he could about the accident, and a moving dispatch to the Times. He had already sent a wire to the Mount Everest Committee, coded so that other news agencies would not pick up the story before the families had been informed. It read: ‘OBTERRAS LONDON – MALLORY IRVINE NOVE REMAINDER ALCEDO – NORTON RONGBUK’. The news reached London on the afternoon of Thursday 19 June 1924, by which time the expedition members were already in Tagang, four days into their trek. Norton’s letter to Willie Irvine, written in his meticulous handwriting, was among the find in May 2000:
Mt Everest Expedition
Rongbuk Base Camp.
13-6-24.
Dear Mr. Irvine.
Unless the steps I have taken have miscarried you will long before this have received the news of your son’s death – I hope first from the Mt. Everest Committee & then with full details in two successive communiqués to the Times.
I could not anticipate the latter method of communicating the news in full by a letter as the Times have a special relay post across Tibet & then wire their communiqués home by press code.
As to the facts & circumstances I fear I can add but little to what you will have heard from the above sources & a letter you will get from Odell –
Everything points to the probability of a sudden death – a slip by one or other – a purely mountaineering accident. Personally I cannot suggest any hypothesis to cover the idea of a lingering death from exposure, nor is there any reason to suppose that the cause might have been due to a defect in the oxygen apparatus for Odell’s experience proves that for people as fully acclimatised to altitude as was your son oxygen may be entirely dispensed with as soon as the descent is begun.
Whether the party reached the top or not must always remain a mystery – I put it myself at a very even chance. They were unaccountably late at the point where they were last seen by Odell – but not too late to reach the top in time to return safely – They were reported as ‘going strong’ – on the particular ground in question a slip was more likely to occur descending than ascending for they had apparently surmounted the most serious obstacle in the ascent.
The pair of course hold the worlds altitude record.
There must be so many points that you want to know; I shall be only too delighted to answer any by letter or to come & see you on my return to England – probably in October – The nearest I can give you as an address is c/o Cox & Co. Bombay until say Sept. 7th & then Uplands, Fareham, Hants –
I wish I could in any way help you in your great grief or adequately express my sympathy.
In the sort of experience I have shared with your son one gets to know people better in 6 weeks than often in 6 years of easy home life – so both from my own knowledge of him & from much that Odell has told me I can guess what your son was to you
To me the whole thing is very bitter; my fixed determination was to bring off success if possible – but, success or failure, above all things to avoid casualties - & I thought it could be done; I was determined that such splendid lives as those we have lost were infinitely too high a price to pay for success.
Much that your son was to us I have already written of in various communiqués to the Times – From the word go he was a complete & absolute success in every way. He was spoken of by General Bruce in an early communiqué as our ‘experiment’ – I can assure you that his experimental stage was a short one as he almost at once became almost indispensable – It was not only that we leant on him for every conceivable mechanical requirement – it was more that we found we could trust his capacity, ingenuity & astonishingly ready good nature to be equal to any call. One of the wonderful things about him was how, though nearly 20 years younger than some of us, he took his place automatically without a hint of the gaucherie of youth, from the very start, as one of the most popular members of our mess.
The really trying times that we had throughout May at Camp III & the week he put in at Camp IV in June (of which I spoke in the last Communiqué before I knew of his death) were the real test of his true metal – for such times inevitably betray a mans weak points - & he proved conclusively & at once that he was good all through – I can hardly bear to think of him now as I last saw him (I was snowblind the following morning & never really saw him again) on the N. Col – looking after us on our return from our climb – cooking for us, waiting on us, washing up the dishes, undoing our boots paddling about in the snow, panting for breath (like the rest of us) & this at the end of a week of such work all performed with the most perfect good nature & cheerfulness.
Physically of course he was splendid – as strong as a horse – I saw him two or three times carry for some faltering porter heavier loads than any European has ever carried here before.
He did the quickest time ever done between some of the stages up the glacier – one of his feats was to haul, with Somervell, a dozen or so porters loads up 150 feet of ice cliff on the way to the N. Col.
As for his capacity as a mountaineer the fact that he was selected by Mallory to accompany him in the last & final attempt on the mountain speaks for itself.
I hope you will express my deep sympathy & regret to Mrs. Irvine & to your sons & daughter- Please write to me if I can give you any information or help you in any way – otherwise do not trouble to answer this letter.
Yours sincerely
E. F. Norton.
Your son was evidently
the best
of all the new recruits: so it is fit that he should fight to a finish along side of Mallory – the most tried and the most famous of all the Everest fighters. None of us climbers will ever think of Mt. Everest without remembering these two names.
Tom Longstaff to Willie Irvine, 21 June 1924
On Friday 20 June 1924, Lilian and the two youngest children were at their holiday cottage, Ffordd Ddwr in the tiny village of Llandyrnog, below the shadow of Moel Famau. Willie was at home and had planned to go to Ffordd Ddwr for the weekend with Evelyn, who was due up from Oxford that afternoon. She had finished her exams and was intending to spend a part of the summer at home. Kenneth was at Oxford taking his exams for entry into Magdalen College and Hugh in Manchester where he worked as a solicitor.
On Friday evening, just after 7 p.m., a telegram arrived from Arthur Hinks, secretary to the Mount Everest Committee. It read: ‘
Committee deeply regret receive bad news Everest Expedition today Norton cables your Son and Mallory killed last climb remainder return safe President and Committee offer heartfelt sympathy Hinks
’. That was it. There was no other information. The last
Times
dispatch had been published on 16
th
June and told of the heroic rescue by Mallory, Norton and Somervell of the four porters at Camp IV. In that article, written on 26 May Norton had spoken of the terrible cold and snow they had been enduring at Camp III and of Sandy and Somervell’s hauling the porters’ loads up the ice chimney to the North Col. He had written that they had hoped to retreat in preparation for a final assault and that Sandy Irvine, as usual, had been busy working on the oxygen apparatus. Sandy’s letter to Lilian of the same date had not even arrived in England. And now the news came that he was dead. Willie immediately telephoned Lilian in Llandyrnog and then his father, James Irvine, who was staying in the Lake District, to tell them the news.