GREAT FORTITUDE

Waipa Post, Volume 46, Issue 3309, 30 March 1933, Page 5

GREAT FORTITUDE

•&• HOW SCOTT'S PARTY DIED. A MEMORY OF 1912. SPIRIT OF THE RACE. "... But for my own sake I do not regret this journey, which has shown that Englishmen can endure hardships, help one another, and meet death with as great a fortiitude as ever in the past. . ."—Captain Scott's Message to the Public.

Twenty-one years ago—in the last days of March, 1912,—three Englishmen lay dying in a little tent on the Antarctic Ice Barrier, 140 miles from their base, but only 11 miles from their main food depot. They had been out on their great journey five months.

Starting on November 1, they had arrived at the South Pole on January 17. Reaching the goal for which they had struggled, they were bitterly disappointed to find they had been forestalled over a month by Roald Amundsen and his four companions, who, on their return journey, were then barely a week away from their base.

The Norweigians had started on October 19 with four sledges and 52 dogs; they reached the Pole on December 14, and, with two sledges and 11 dogs, arrived back at their base on January 25, having covered 1860 miles in 99 days. They had good weather condition for most of their journey, a comparatively good route, and the dogs paid the. price of speedy travelling, with their lives. Scott and his companions, travelling on foot, had man-hauled their sledges for 78 days to the Pole, under incredibly had conditions of weather and route., On the return journey, one of the party—fetty-Omcer Edgar Evans, R.N.—broke' down and died on February 17. Another—Captain Lawrence Oates, of the 6th Inniskilling Dragoons—after enduring intense suffering for weeks, walked out to meet death 'in a blizzard on March 15. There remained only Captain R. F. Scott, R.N., Dr Edward Wilson, and Lieut. Henry R. Bowers, R.T.M., and for them the end came a few days later.

A VERY GALLANT GENTLEMAN.

The imperishable story is simply but moving told in Scott's dairy. Monday, March s.—Regret to say going from bad to: worse. . . The result is telling on all, but mainly on Oates, whose feet are in a wretched condition . . . Our fuel is dreadfully low and the poor Soldier nearly done. Saturday, March 10.—Things steadily downhill. Oates' feet worse. He has rare pluck and must know he can never get through. He asked Wilson if he had a chance this morning, and, of course, Bill had to say he didn't know. In point of fact he has none. . . The weather conditions are awful, and our gear gets steadilly more icy and difficult to manage. . . Friday, March 16, or Saturday, 17. —Lost track of dates, but think the last corrects Tragedy all along the line. . At lunch the day before yes- 1 terday, poor Titus Oates said he couldn't go on; he proposed we should leave him in his sleeping-bag. That we could not do, and induced him to come on, on the afternoon march. In spite of its awful nature for him, he struggled on and we made a few miles. At night he was worse and we knew the end had come. . . Oates' last thoughts were of his mother, but immediately before he took pride in thinking that his regiment would be pleased with the bold way in which he met his death. We can testify to his bravery. He had borne intense suffering for weeks without complaint. . . He was a brave soul. This was the end. He slept through the night before last, hoping not to wake; but he woke in the morning—yesterday. It was blowing a blizzard. He said: "I am just going outside and may be some time." He went out into the blizzard and we have not seen him since. . .

Scott, Wilson and Bowers struggled on, covering ten miles during the next three days under dreadful "conditions and in intense i cold, the temperature being—4o degrees. Scott's diary tells how the end came. Wednesday, March 21.—Got within 11 miles of depot Monday night (60 days from the Pole); had to lay up all yesterday in severe blizzard. Today forlorn hope; Wilson and Bowers going to depot for fuel. Thursday, March 22 and 23.—Bliz•zard bad as ever—Wilson and Bowers unable to start—to-morrow last chance—no fuel and only one or two of food left—must be near the end. Have decided it shall be natural — we shall march for the depot with or without our effects and die in our tracks.

Thursday, March 29. Since the 21st we have had a continuous gale fropn W.S.W. and S.W. We had fuel to make two cups of tea apiece and bare food for two days on the 20th. Every day we have been ready to start for our depot 11 miles away, but outside the door of the tent it remains a scene of whirling drift. Ido not think we can hope for any better thingfe now. We shall stick it out to the end, but we are getting weaker, of course, and the end cannot be far. It seems a pity, but Ido not think T can write more. ■-., -,.:• R. SCOTT; For God's sake look after our people.

- Wilson, and Bowers were found in the attitude of sleep, their sleepingbags closed over their heads as they would naturally close ; them. Scott died later. He had thrown back the flaps of his sleeping-bag and opened his coat. The little wallet containing the three notebooks was under His shoulders and his arm flung across Wilson. So they were found eight months later.