May 31st, 1884
The gale continued all day and was accompanied by a heavy snowstorm.
We were not only held close prisoners in our shelter, but also in our
bags, as drift over a foot deep covered us. We were unable to cook and
consequently had nothing to eat during the day, not even a swallow of
water. Of all the days of suffering, none can compare with this. If I
knew I had another month of this existence, I would stop the engine this
moment. *
He might never have been able to
imagine, even in the most feverish of his dreams, that he would himself
experience such desolation, fear and privation. There is nothing, he
thought grimly to himself, like living through such a nightmare to bring
a human perspective to the heights to which human resources might
aspire, and the depths to which the human spirit could plunge. It was
only through the desperate cauldron of facing death on a daily basis
that each man’s strength and weaknesses surfaced, so one could finally
know what lay beneath the carefully maintained and structured façade of
civility that society demands of its creatures.
This was a
society he was familiar with, not the kind which also existed in the
world of those with scant resources, ruled by tyrants who made short
shrift of human values and rights belonging to others. In his world,
occasions abounded for individuals to recognize and make the best of
their opportunities, and those who strove to find satisfaction in their
lives thrived, while those who merged their inertia with society’s
constraints remained maladapted to the vision of their very future
attainments.
For him that vision encompassed adventure, glory,
serving his country as an educated, astute military man gifted with
certain attributes that made him the perfect selection to help lead an
expedition into the frozen distances of the globe where animal life
abounded despite the severity of the atmosphere, the geology and the
weather, but human life could not.
So here he was, on Ellesmere
Island. Two winters of it. That was the assignment. Collecting
weather data, scrupulously reporting on atmospheric conditions. So his
country would have a record and an understanding of conditions there to
advance the science and knowledge of the geography and the
hostile-to-humankind-environment. It was past time they left.
The
understanding was that after the two years they would be relieved.
Short of food, their equipment in a failing state. Tired of waiting.
No option but to have faith, to hope for relief. Stoicism was their
current lot in life. One that began slowly ebbing, as some among them
became ever more disoriented, dysfunctional, minds and bodies severely
malfunctioning.
It’s not easy living with that kind of cold. It
is a beautiful environment. Aloof, pristine, lovely beyond belief. But
even a clear day with full sun does little-to-nothing to alleviate the
dread cold. The men are tired, underfed, on the verge of starvation,
ailing and desperate. Some of them lie in their virtually
warmth-useless sleeping bags, refusing to rise. Preferring to invite
death through surrender of their imprinted imperative to survive. They
have admitted to themselves that they are incapable of flailing against
imminent death.
They are,
however, my responsibility, he sternly reminded himself, and one I do
not take lightly. I go out every day and do what I can to obtain some
element of nutrition to help keep us all alive and hoping for another
day. I am by no means the only one to attend to these mutual duties,
but it has fallen to me and me alone to gather as much shrimp as I can
manage with my inadequate nets and failing store of bait, to keep death
at bay.June 1st, 1884
Breakfast consisted of three ounces of shrimp and a cup of weak
tea to each man. We were without food for thirty-six hours. Lieut.
Kislingbury became unconscious at 8 a.m. and breathed his last at 3 p.m.
Before he lost consciousness he begged piteously for a drink of water,
but this the Doctor denied him. He then sang the Doxology in a clear
but weak voice and, falling back in his sleeping bag, was soon in the
embrace of Death. *
We’re all progressively
weaker. But some of us do our utmost to remain of good cheer in this
cheerless atmosphere, despite the beauty surrounding us. Some of the
men, those whose physical condition is far worse than those of us who
still go out every day to find edible mosses and lichens, or shrimp as I
do, say nothing, do nothing, appear to have closed down their minds.
Awake,
they lie limp and unresponsive. Some have close at hand photographs of
wife, children, mother. And stare at these photographs unceasingly.
Occasionally mumbling names and perhaps reminiscing about happier times.
They have utterly given themselves over to the prospect of never again
seeing their loved ones. The visages of their wives, mothers,
children, will be the last their eyes see before they glaze over in
death.
June 2nd, 1884
Salor died at 3 a.m. I was lying by his side in the same bag
at the time. Not having the necessary strength to remove him and not
feeling inclined to get up, I went to sleep in the same bag with the
remains and did not awake until breakfast was announced at 9 a.m.
Doctor Pavy was making some rather absurd prescriptions this evening and talking incoherently.
For
weeks I have noticed Linn’s feet protruding from the gravel heaped over
his body. Day by day the elements have reduced the scanty covering
until Linn’s feet are fully exposed to the gales sweeping over Cemetery
Ridge. I have often thought that I would replace that which had blown
away, but my waning strength has caused me to defer this for so long
that I cannot think of attempting it now. *
Each
dawning day appears more beautiful than the one it succeeds. In any
other circumstances, we would be transfixed with awe at the wonder of
nature’s paint brush. This morning there is but little wind, a decided
relief from previous days’ incessant blowing. We have had good hunting
today for a change. Along with the shrimp I have managed to gather, a
dovekie was shot, and it will be cooked slowly to produce a hot,
nutritious soup for all of us. We reqiure something like that to
restore a trifle of capacity to our failing bodies and a modicum of hope
for the near future. For if we survive the near future it is entirely
possible that the ship will sail through and bring us the relief all of
so dearly hope for.
Some of us have been able to eat the rock
lichens that have been collected, and found some nourishment in them.
Others, however, suffer greatly from the after-effects of eating these
unpalatable lichens.
The sound, because of lack of the usual high
blustering wind storms, looks calm, smooth and wonderfully blue. A
calming, restorative sight for weary eyes, tired of tearing from the
cold and the wind.
It’s come to this; our medical man is so weak
and dispirited we may soon lose his professional capabilities. He
refuses to any longer partake of our communal shrimp stew. He will now
agree only to taking weak tea and as anyone might know, most
particularly a man blessed with medical knowledge, no human body is
capable of surviving long without adequate - or even in our parlous
state - a minuscule amount of nutriment.
We continue to realize
that one among us is a predator, caring little for the common weal in
our miserable situation. Lieutenant Greely, aftersome brief
consultation has been forced, by unfortunate circumstances, to issue an
order:
Near Cape Sabine, June 5th, 1884 To Sergeants Brainard, Fredericks and Long:
Private
Henry having been repeatedly guilty of stealing the provisions of this
party which is now perishing slowly by starvation, has so far been
condoned and pardoned. It is, however, imperatively ordered
that if this man be detected either eating food of any kind not issued
him regularly, or making caches, or approaching any article of
provisions, you will at once
shoot him and report the matter to me. Any other course would be a
fatal leniency, the man being able to overpower any two of our present
force.
(signed) A.W. Greely, Lt.5th Cav.A.S.O.& Asst. Comdg.Lady Franklin Bay Ex. *
We
simply have no other choice but to this grim task of sentencing one of
our own to death in the hopes of securing the lives of others of us. I
find, despite my assiduous attention to the tedious work of fishing for
our little life-saving shrimp that they are no longer taking to the
bait. My strength is steadily diminishing and I have little appetite
for further strenuous attempts beyond my present state of
energy-depletion.
As it is at the present, it is all I can do to
muster the energy required to stagger toward the shrimping grounds,
remain there for the hours required to attempt to fish out a goodly
portion of what remains and then painfully pull myself back up with my
catch to the camp.
My mind and thought processes are dulling. My
brain appears to be refusing to work as it should. I cannot recall
what I should automatically be doing in the performance of my duties.
My obligations to the men partially under my command are foremost in
mind, but what, precisely, I should be doing, to ameliorate their
condition, is now eluding me.
This is a most unfortunate
situation. I cannot quite conceive of the reason why our rescue party
has been so agonizingly tardy. Surely they must realize the situation
we are in? Surely they have some intuitive knowledge that our situation
is parlous? Perhaps it is better that we do not torture our minds by
these useless conjectures.
We must acknowledge that something
disastrous may have occurred to our relief party. That, or somehow
conditions leading to their being able to reach us have somehow
conspired to leave us in our present state, and they in a worried
consternation over our situation.
Near Cape Sabine, June 6th, 1884 Sergeants Brainard, Long and Fredericks:
Notwithstanding
promises given by Private C.H. Henry yesterday he has since
acknowledged to me having tampered with seal thongs, if not other food
at the old camp. This pertinacity and audacity is the destruction of
this party if not at once ended. Private Henry will be shot today, all
care being taken to prevent his injuring anyone as his physical strength
is greater than that of any two men. Decide the manner of death by two
ball and one blank cartridge.
This order is imperative and absolutely necessary for any chance of life.
(signed) A.W. Greely, 1st Lt.5th Cav. A.S.O. & Asst. Comdg. L.F.B. Ex. *
This
is a sad and sorry business. But duty insists it must be met. As
honourably, given the circumstances, as humanly possible. No one is the
better for the situation.
After the execution was accomplished, a
search of the poor man’s effects revealed him to have availed himself
of a pair of seal boots, a coil of seal skin thongs, various knives and
other items, some of which could be rendered down to edible product,
some of which could be silently chewed in his sleeping bag in the dark
of night, empowering him to a greater state of bodily comfort than has
been afforded the rest of us. God save his soul.
We do know,
however, that his was not the only such sin among our desperately
suffering men. There are others suspected of indulging in the same, or
like conspiracy to obtain for themselves certain advantages toward
prolonging their lives.
Had we a trifle more strength between us
we could undertake to bury the most recent dead. It is not at all
decent that their bodies lay there, just beyond the camp where we have
managed to drag them, away from our immediate presence, frozen and
silently condemning our inaction in providing them with a resting place
where they may meet eternity with equanimity.
June 7th, 1884
Biederbick and Connell gathered a few lichens and a little
reindeer moss. This evening we dined on a stew composed of a pair of
boot soles, a handful of reindeer moss and a few rock lichens. The
small quantity of shrimps which I furnish daily is sufficient only for
the morning meal.
We dressed the bodies of Dr. Pavy and Bender for their graves, but were unable to bury them. *
It
is simply soul-destroying to witness the swift deterioration of the
men’s earlier inspirational will to live. We who are in relatively
better health than those gravely ill unto death do what we can to
instill a little bit of cheer by commenting about the break in the
weather and the beauty of the sky and the full sun, the import of which
confuses us as we derive no benefit from any of it.
But there we
are, all things being relative; we can, should we wish to do so, drink
in the loveliness of our surroundings in this brief respite between
storms.
Scurvy is plaguing the men, and little wonder. We
celebrated the birthday of one our men by permitting him - and he alone -
a spoonful of rum. Spirits are normally retained for other, more
medicinal purposes. It was hoped that allowing that poor man a respite
from his misery by a mere taste of what in other circumstances is taken
for granted and taken in abundance, will momentarily bring cheer to his
fading life. And he but 32 years of age.
We have found black
rock lichens stew up nicely enough. Certainly not to everyone’s taste,
as the result is rather gelatinous and tasteless, but we are certain,
possessed of slight nutritive qualities. Everything we can manage to
recognize as possibly nutrient-rich in some manner helps. We have taken
to carefully and slowly chewing bits of seal skin cut from garments.
This is not possible for those with advanced scurvy, and their end, we
feel is lamentably nigh.
June 12th, 1884
We had only a cup of tea for breakfast. I found a new shrimping
place this morning near the tent. After several hours’ work I returned
with two pounds. Our evening meal - a few boiled lichens and a cup of
tea.
Connell’s face appears full and healthy, but it is only swollen.
He expressed a wish to work, cook and live by himself. This request
Lieut. Greely would not grant.
Gardiner died at 5 p.m. Patience and
fortitude have characterized his sufferings. He clung to life with a
wonderful pertinacity and only succumbed when physical weakness had
crushed his will. *
I try not to think overmuch
of what I cannot do much about. We fumble and stumble through the long
days of agonizing descent into hopelessness. What we remain aware of,
those of us still capable of some minimal functioning, is that we must
not convey to the others whose state of health is extremely delicate,
our own sense of descending hope. We do what we must. And we do what
we can to ensure that a small glimmer of hope remains in the wounded
minds of our men.
The high winds have finally resumed. Resulting
in our having had to remain close to camp, rather than venture further
in our everlasting search for nutriments. I have been unable, of late,
to catch more than a few ounces of shrimp. I did construct a nominal
net to replace those washed out by a brief but sturdy spurt of ice-melt
swelling the stream, but somehow lost the shrimp caught in it. And
watched, helplessly, as they washed out of the utterly useless net and
made their way downstream, depriving us of even that small portion of
food.
We have no more tea left to us. We must now consider
utilizing some of the lichens as the stuff of tea-making. The taste of
which will doubtless be unpleasant to those still anticipating our own
tea of a morning.
June 17th, 1884
The sense of hunger appears to have disappeared. We eat simply
to preserve life. Crumbs of bread at our winter quarter which are
occasionally exposed through the melting of the snow are picked from
heaps of the vilest filth and eaten with relish. Henry ate ptarmigan
droppings; Bender ate caterpillars, worms, etc. Saxifrage, lichens and
other vegetation together with the intestines of animals would now be
luxuries. I worked several hours in the raw, chilling winds and caught
little more than a pound of shrimps. *
Some
things are indescribable. How to describe to an interested ear the
folly of a venture to which no ending can be visualized, but which must
be embarked upon to obey orders from superiors who have their own
reasons for the successful completion of a venture they themselves will
never have to suffer the hardships thereof? In any event, those who
have never undergone the travails which we have been exposed to, can
never imagine how dreadful the assault on human endurance can
conceivably be. Even those who have experienced such deprivation and
exceptional danger to body and soul and survived the ordeal, cannot find
words adequate to paint a picture with complete verisimilitude.
Perhaps
this is just as well. For if those whose spirit takes them toward
exploration and the adventure of discovery, those who fall under the
spell of that great white presence of the frozen north were to
completely understand what lies awaiting them, why they might never
venture into the enterprise of discovery. And then, perhaps, the world
would be a poorer place for lack of intelligence relating to the data
thereof derived.
Now, to other more intimate things. Which have
been gently pushed aside in my mind, heretofore. For I now find myself
in that situation where I too, must think about that which is most
precious to me.
What will I say
when I greet my beloved wife? I will look deep into the wells of her
soft eyes and I will absorb her love for me into the wellsprings of my
soul. I will feast my tired eyes on her loveliness, her familiar face
and presence. I will breathe the fragrance of her hair, the aroma of
her being, and fill my tired lungs with her essence. I will carefully
listen to the soft, sibilant tone of her voice expressing her undying
love for me. I will embrace her and hold her and tell I shall nevermore
leave her.
My destiny approaches but my ultimate duty yet awaits me.
*From Six Came Back - David L. Brainard
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