CHAPTER VIII

CONCLUSIONS

Geoffrey Bruce and I arrived back at the Base Camp early in the

afternoon of May 29. The next few days were spent in resting, and I then

underwent the same experience as the members of the first climbing

party; that is, instead of recovering my strength rapidly during the

first three or four days, if anything a further decline took place.

However, as the weather appeared fine, and there seemed promise of a

bright spell prior to the breaking of the monsoon, it was decided to

make another attempt on the mountain. Of the remaining climbing members

of the Expedition, Somervell was undoubtedly the fittest, with Mallory a

good second. Both had enjoyed some ten days’ rest since their first

assault upon Mount Everest, and therefore had a chance of recovering

from the abnormal strain to which they had been submitted. Medical

opinion as to my condition after so brief a rest was somewhat divided,

but in the end I was passed as sufficiently fit to join in the third

attempt. On the 3rd of June we left the Base Camp. The party consisted

of Wakefield as M.O., Crawford, and later Morris, as transport officers,

Mallory, Somervell and myself as climbers. The attempt was to be made

with oxygen, and I was placed in command. It required a great effort for

me to get as far as Camp I, and I realised there that the few days’ rest

which I had enjoyed at the Base Camp had been quite insufficient to

allow of my recuperation. During the night the weather turned with a

vengeance and it snowed heavily, and I knew that there could be no

object in my proceeding farther. After giving Somervell final detailed

instructions regarding the oxygen apparatus, I wished them all the best

of luck, and on the 4th returned to the Base Camp. As Strutt, Longstaff,

and Morshead were leaving next day for Darjeeling, I was given, and

availed myself of, the opportunity of accompanying them.

That return journey constitutes one of the most delightful experiences

of my life. Within a week of leaving the Base Camp, I had entirely

regained my strength, although a certain tenderness in the soles of my

feet made itself felt for some considerable time. For the most part the

weather was warm, and everywhere the eye feasted on the riotous

colouring of blossoms such as we had never before seen. The only fly in

the ointment was the ever-present sense of defeat coupled with the

knowledge that with only a little better luck we should have won

through.

In spite of our failure, however, I felt that we had learnt much; and

perhaps the most important lesson of all was that we had been taught the

real value of oxygen. Prior to the formation of the 1922 Expedition, the

oxygen problem had already been the subject of much discussion round

which two distinct schools of thought had arisen. The first, headed by

Professor G. Dreyer, F.R.S., Professor of Pathology at the University of

Oxford, was staunch to the belief that, without the assistance of a

supply of oxygen carried in containers on the back of the climber, it

would be impossible for a man to reach the summit of Mount Everest. The

second body of scientific opinion held that, not only would it be

possible for a man to attain the summit of Everest unaided by an

artificial supply of oxygen, but that the weight of such a supply would

only hamper the climber in his efforts, and thus completely

counterbalance any advantages likely to accrue from its use. To arrive

at an impartial conclusion as to the correctitude of these two divergent

opinions, it is only necessary to give careful consideration to the

results achieved on the two high climbs of May 22 and May 27

respectively. The former was made without an artificial supply of

oxygen, the latter with. The first climbing party, consisting of

Mallory, Morshead, Norton, and Somervell, left the North Col at 7 a.m.

on the 20th of May, and that afternoon, at an altitude of 25,000 feet

above sea-level, pitched a camp just off the great North ridge leading

down from the shoulder. Morshead had suffered from the cold and was

evidently unwell. One of Norton’s ears had been badly frostbitten, and

Mallory had frostbitten finger-tips. Somervell alone was, to all intents

and purposes, as yet untouched. Snow fell during the night, but they

were untroubled by wind. At eight o’clock next morning they left their

camp—all save Morshead, who, apparently at the end of his tether and

unable to go farther, had to remain behind. After over six hours’

climbing, Mallory, Norton, and Somervell succeeded in reaching an

altitude of 26,985 feet; so that, since their departure from their high

camp, they had gained a vertical height of 1,985 feet at a rate of

ascent of 330 feet per hour. The point at which they turned back lies

below the shoulder on the great North ridge, and is, in horizontal

distance, about 1⅛ miles from the summit, and rather over 2,000 feet

below it in vertical height. They began to retrace their steps at 2.30

in the afternoon, and regained their high camp at four o’clock; their

rate of descent therefore was 1,320 feet per hour. Shortly after 4 p.m.,

accompanied by Morshead, they started on the return journey to the North

Col, where they arrived at 11.30 that night, a rate of descent of 270

feet per hour. We had seen them on their way down from their high camp,

and acting on instructions from Colonel Strutt, we went up towards the

North Col on the 23rd to render them assistance. We met them just above

the foot of the steep slopes leading up the col. They were obviously in

the last stages of exhaustion, as, indeed, men should be who had done

their best on a mountain like Mount Everest.

On the 25th of May the second party, consisting of Geoffrey Bruce,

Tejbir and myself, left the North Col. Our porters, who did not use

oxygen, left at eight o’clock; we, using oxygen, left at 9.30 a.m., and

in an hour and a half succeeded in overtaking them at an altitude of

24,500 feet, where, somewhat fatigued with their three hours’ effort,

they paused to rest. A moment’s calculation will show that we had been

climbing at the rate of 1,000 feet per hour. Leaving the porters to

follow, we eventually gained an altitude of 25,500 feet, where, owing to

bad weather, we were constrained to camp. It was not until two o’clock

in the afternoon that the porters rejoined us, despite the fact that our

own progress had been hindered by the necessity for much step-cutting.

That night in our high camp was a night of trial and no rest, and the

following day, the 26th, was little better; in addition, our supply of

food was exhausted. Then followed a second night, when the advantages of

using oxygen to combat fierce cold were strikingly evident. At six

o’clock on the morning of the 27th, having had practically no rest for

two nights and a day, half starved and suffering acutely from hunger, we

set out from our high camp in full hopes of gaining the summit of Mount

Everest. Half an hour later, at an altitude of 26,000 feet, Tejbir broke

down—an unfortunate occurrence that may be largely attributed to his

lack of really windproof clothing. On arriving at a height of 26,500

feet we were forced to leave the ridge, so violent and penetratingly

cold was the wind to which we were exposed. The thousand feet from our

camp up to this point had occupied one and a half hours, some twenty

minutes of which had been employed in re-arranging the loads when Tejbir

broke down. Our rate of progress, therefore, had been about 900 feet per

hour, in spite of the fact that we each carried a load of over 40 lb.

After leaving the ridge we struck out over difficult ground across the

great North face of the mountain, gaining but little in altitude, but

steadily approaching our goal. Eventually we decided to turn back at a

point less than half a mile in horizontal distance from, and about 1,700

feet below, the summit. Thus, although we had climbed in vertical height

only some 300 feet higher than the first party, nevertheless we were

more than twice as close to the summit than they had been when they

turned back.

To summarise the two performances. The first party established a camp at

an altitude of 25,000 feet, occupied it for one night, and finally

reaching a point 26,985 feet in height, and 1⅛ miles from the summit,

returned without a break to the North Col. The second party established

a camp at an altitude of 25,500 feet, occupied it for two nights and

almost two days, and eventually reaching a point of 27,300 feet high and

less than half a mile from the summit, returned without a break to Camp

III. The weather conditions throughout were incomparably worse than

those experienced by the first party. The difference between the two

performances cannot be ascribed to superior climbing powers on the part

of the second party, for the simple reason that all the members of the

first party were skilled and proven mountaineers, while Geoffrey Bruce

and Lance-Corporal Tejbir, though at home in the hills, had never before

set foot on a snow and ice mountain. No matter how strong and willing

and gallant an inexperienced climber may be, his lack of mountaineering

skill and knowledge inevitably results in that prodigality of

effort—much of it needless—which invariably and quickly places him at a

grave disadvantage when compared with the trained mountaineer. The

strength of a climbing party is no greater than that of its weakest

member. Judged on this basis the second party was very weak compared

with the first, and the superior results obtained by the former can only

be ascribed to the fact that they made use of an artificial supply of

oxygen.

The contention, therefore, that the disadvantages of its weight would

more than counterbalance the advantages of an artificial supply of

oxygen, may be dismissed as groundless, and the assumption may be made

that on any further attempt upon Everest oxygen will form a most

important part of the climber’s equipment. The question next arises as

to the exact stage in the proceedings at which recourse should be made

to the assistance of oxygen. The strongest members of the Expedition

felt fit and well, and recuperated readily from fatigue, at Camp III,

21,000 feet above sea-level, but at the North Col this was no longer the

case. Thus it would seem that the upper level of true acclimatisation

lies somewhere between 21,000 and 23,000 feet. I would therefore

advocate commencing to use oxygen somewhere between these two levels,

preferably at the foot of the steep slopes leading up to the North Col.

The use of small quantities would allow the climber to reach the Col

without unduly tiring himself. From the North Col to a high camp

situated at an altitude of about 26,500 feet, a slightly increased

quantity of oxygen would suffice to enable the climber to progress

almost as rapidly as he would in the much lower levels of the Alps. We

know from experience that a camp at the above-mentioned altitude can be

readily established, and in all except the worst of weather conditions a

party can make its way down again. Between the camp and the summit there

would be a vertical height of only 2,500 feet, and it is conceivable

that with a full supply of oxygen this distance could be covered in as

little as four hours. I am strongly of the opinion that only one camp

should be used between the North Col and the summit. No matter what

precautions are taken, man’s strength is rapidly sapped during the stay

at these great altitudes, and the plan of campaign most likely to ensure

success would appear to be leisurely and comfortable progress as far as

the North Col, the establishment of a high camp at 26,500 feet, and a

final dash to the summit. This last part of the programme, however,

would not be feasible unless a small dump of oxygen were made at a

height of about 27,500 feet. To do this it would be necessary for a

specially detailed party to spend one night at the high camp, and on the

following day employ their strength in making a dump somewhere above the

shoulder. This done, they would then be able to return to the North Col

with the satisfaction of knowing that they had made it possible for the

actual climbing party to win through.

It is by no means yet certain which is the best line of approach to the

North Col. The route hitherto followed, viâ the East Rongbuk Glacier, is

tedious and roundabout, but it has the advantage of being well sheltered

from the wind, and, except for the final steep slopes beneath the col,

safe under any conditions. Much more direct, however, and probably less

arduous, is the approach from over the main Rongbuk Glacier. The line of

ascent thence to the summit of the col presents no real difficulty, and,

provided it is not found to be too exposed to the wind, is undoubtedly

much safer, even after heavy snowfalls, than that previously followed.

In the light of past experience one can hardly hope to count on good

weather as an ally; adequate protection in the form of windproof

clothing will enable the climber to face all but actual snowstorms.

Climbing parties making the final assaults on the summit should be

small, consisting of two men and no more. In the event of one man

collapsing, his comrade, if at all up to scratch, should be able to get

him down in safety. By so limiting the size of the parties, a number of

attacks, each one as strong as if effected by a large and cumbersome

team of, say, four, could be carried out. Again, in the case of small

parties as suggested, mutual attention to each other’s oxygen outfit is

possible and any necessary repair or adjustment more expeditiously made.

The type of climber who should go farthest on Mount Everest would appear

to be similar to that which best suits the Alps. Of the physical

attributes necessary, the following points, in addition to what is

usually termed perfect physical fitness, may be emphasised. In the

rarefied atmosphere of high altitudes the larger the vital capacity the

better. By the term “vital capacity” is meant the maximum amount of air

an individual is able to expel from the lungs by voluntary effort after

taking the deepest possible inspiration. Compared with the lean, spare

type of individual, the thickset, often musclebound man, though possibly

equal to an immense effort provided it is of short duration, is, as a

rule, at a great disadvantage. The Expedition has also shown beyond all

possible doubt that the tall man is less prone to become fatigued than

one of shorter stature. Again, as is well known amongst mountaineers,

the long-legged, short-trunk type of body is immensely superior to the

short-legged, long-trunk type.

Perhaps more important than perfect physical fitness to the would-be

conqueror of Everest is the possession of the correct mentality.

Absolutely essential are singleness of aim, namely, the attainment of

the summit, and unswerving faith in the possibility of its achievement.

Half-heartedness in even one member of the attacking party spells almost

certain failure. Many a strong party in the Alps has failed to reach its

objective through the depressing effect of the presence of one doubting

Thomas. Like an insidious disease, a wavering, infirm belief is liable

to spread and cause the destruction of the hopes of those who come into

contact with it. The man who cannot face Mount Everest without at the

same time proclaiming that the mountain has the odds in its favour would

do better by himself and others to leave the proposition severely alone.

Of almost equal importance is the possession of what may be called

mental energy or will power, or simply “go.” Mountaineers may be divided

into two classes according to their behaviour when, tired and well-nigh

exhausted, they are called upon to make yet one more supreme effort.

There are those who, lacking the will power necessary to force their

jaded bodies on to still further action, give in; others, possessed of

an almost inexhaustible fund of mental energy, will rise to the

occasion, not once, but time and again. Physical pain is the safety

valve which nature has provided to prevent harm being done to the body

by exhaustion. But nature’s margin of safety is a wide one. On Everest,

this margin must be narrowed down, if necessary, to vanishing-point; and

this can only be done by the climber whose fund of mental energy is

sufficient to drive his body on and on, no matter how intense the pains

of exhaustion, even to destruction if need be.

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The Assault on Mount Everest, 1922 · 第 8 / 15 章