Authors: Maurice Herzog
Camp I,
May 29th, 1950
Marcel Ichac to Maurice Herzog
Angtharkay arrived 12.10. There are twenty-two loads at Base Camp.
Available to carry loads between Base Camp and Camp I – the Chinee, and a young gigolo brought up by Angtharkay. Angtharkay is going down again to Base Camp to meet Noyelle and his fifteen coolies and try to keep some of them on, to ferry loads. Send Ajeeba back as soon as possible with a list of things urgently required (high-altitude tents?).
Do you need us to convoy Sherpas between Camps II and III, and if so, when?
M
ARCEL
I
CHAC
Splendid news! With Noyelle coming up, we were certain now of being revictualled and supported by the main bulk of our equipment. There was great rejoicing in the camp.
The second note was a message in which Noyelle acknowledged receipt of my order of the day and announced his arrival in force. This note was dispatched from Tukucha on the 25th, the day after Sarki’s arrival there. Good old Sarki! He had taken barely thirty-six hours to cover a distance which normally took four or five days; he had deserved well of the Expedition, and at the proper time the leader would know how to show his gratitude.
These happy events called for the opening of a bottle of rum. But there was no time to lose. Ajeeba would have to go down again
immediately
to get on with the load-carrying. I wrote a note at once to the Sahibs at the lower camps.
Camp II,
May 29th, 1950
Herzog to Noyelle, Matha and all other Sahibs
Congratulations to Noyelle for the speed with which he’s got going. It means a lot to us all. Yesterday Camp IV was established at 23,500 feet on the upper part of the handle of the Sickle. At this moment Terray, Rébuffat and two Sherpas are at Camp III (21,650 feet).
Our immediate objective is to pitch Camp V before the final assault which will be carried out by parties in succession.
For Matha:
Urgent: Sarki, Ajeeba, Phutharkay and the Chinee to come up tomorrow very early with an extra valley tent and two lots of bedding (mattresses and sleeping-bag), plus a petrol stove and a quart of petrol (a large Coleman), also refills for the cine-camera (I have taken a certain number which I’m sending back), also some more medical supplies: sleeping-tablets, aspirin – the equivalent of ten tubes, ten tubes of
rosat
cream, tubes of anti-frostbite ointment (8), five tubes of anti-sunburn cream;
Tschamba-Fii
,
1
four pairs of Tricouni gaiters and one extra high-altitude unit.
Complete the loads with food: put in some
saucisson
and a bottle of cognac.
From Lachenal’s sack get stockings, socks (three pairs), camp boots, a shirt and pair of pants.
We’ll be calling you on the walkie-talkie at 8 o’clock this evening.
Couzy and Schatz go down tomorrow and will give further instructions.
Important
: send all this off very early, as I shall be waiting to go up with Sarki, Phutharkay and Biscante to Camp III. Given good weather, we have high hopes.
M
AURICE
H
ERZOG
Ajeeba and the Chinee had brought up a high-altitude unit, food and a walkie-talkie. In the evening, at 8 o’clock as arranged, we intended to try to establish communication – at long last. This would make things much easier.
I was well satisfied with the way Noyelle was doing his job – he was showing the stuff he was made of. Without him there would have been no hope of getting up before the monsoon. I went off to have a look at Dawathondup whom I wished to send down as soon as possible. I found a very sick man – he looked almost at death’s
door
– and I had not the heart to send him down in weather like this. He would have to go tomorrow.
Ajeeba did not waste a minute. This time he had no load and he disappeared rapidly with his great ungainly strides, followed by the Chinee trotting along behind him. In a few minutes they had vanished into the mist.
I set up the walkie-talkie. From time to time I pressed the button.
‘Hallo, Maurice speaking. Can you hear me, Matha?’
All I heard was crackling. After a while I made out some wild Indian music – it almost set me dancing a jig up there, at nearly 20,000 feet, in the heart of the Himalaya.
‘Hallo, Herzog speaking. Are you receiving me, Matha?’
Still no answer.
At 8.15, in accordance with our previous arrangements, I shut off. This matter of wireless communication on expeditions ought to be perfected. It was the only oversight I had to regret, but it was a big one. I went back into the tent, a little depressed by this setback, and found the others nearly asleep.
Next morning was fine, the light was brilliant and the sun was already beating down on the tent. I felt well rested and it was not long before I was up and having a look outside. The snow crystals sparkled in the sun like so many diamonds: it must have been a cold night. Our plan was simple: we would have to wait for the convoy from Camp I, which I hoped would not be long in arriving, and then set off immediately with fresh loads for Camp III. Couzy and Schatz were still not very fit: while Couzy preferred to remain where he was to recuperate, Schatz was definitely in favour of going lower down, and he decided to descend to Camp I. He would escort Dawathondup who was still, after three days, in the same state. Lachenal was a different man – I saw this by the way he got out of his sleeping-bag, went off to see what the Sherpas were doing, and looked up for signs of Terray. His morale seemed much better: would his physical fitness come back too? If so we should both be able to leave, and constitute the second party.
‘What on earth can Ajeeba be doing?’ I said impatiently. ‘I particularly asked them at Camp I to send him off early so that we ourselves should have time to leave Camp II today.’ We took it in turns to look through the glasses.
‘Look, Biscante! You can spot Rébuffat and Terray moving along with their Sherpas.’
‘They’re going very slowly.’
‘The snow’s deep and it’s making it difficult for them.’
Bluish mist – a very good sign – rose up from the depths of the Miristi Khola before being dispersed by the sun. We took some photographs of ourselves and of the mountains round us.
‘Midday, and still no Ajeeba!’
We embarked on a great discussion about Chamonix guides, and Lachenal aired his views on his profession. The hours went by, and while Schatz got ready to go down with Dawathondup, it became obvious to me that it was too late for us to go up to Camp III that day.
‘Salaam, Bara Sahib!’
‘Salaam!’
It was six o’clock when Angtharkay, Phutharkay and Sarki arrived and I was very glad indeed to see them: they had brought up heavy loads with equipment, food, and – most welcome this – a second valley tent for Camp II. Before the light went we had a look through the glasses at Camp IV, but we saw no movement. No doubt the party had already settled in for the night – the lack of activity was a good sign. Tomorrow they would go on to establish Camp V.
Angtharkay was wreathed in smiles; he, too, seemed pleased to see us. His little trip to Muktinath had been a great joy to him and he was still feeling the thrill of it. Now that I had him with me I felt much less anxious; with his great Himalayan experience, Angtharkay knew what to do and what not to do, and he had no hesitation about taking the initiative; his authority over the Sherpas lifted a weight off my shoulders. Angtharkay undid the loads and handed me a note from Ichac, Noyelle and Oudot:
30.5.50
(1) Impossible to get the Sherpas off first thing this morning, since we didn’t get your note until late yesterday and the Sherpas and equipment were at Base Camp.
(2) We are sending you Angtharkay, Sarki and Phutharkay. They are bringing up everything you asked for (complete); fix up about the bedding with the Sherpas.
(3) Tomorrow we’ll send up a food convoy, perhaps accompanied by one of us, to Camp II.
(4)
Leave
any messages at Camp II.
(5) If you require one of us to escort Sherpas carrying food to Camp III, let us know.
(6) Wireless R.T.: heard nothing. Try again at 17 hrs. 19 hrs. 20 hrs. We’ve got a big receiver set.
(7) We are in the midst of temporary disturbances caused by the monsoon. The monsoon itself is advancing over Calcutta. It is ahead of time.
(8) G. B. has gone down to Base Camp. Send us news. A runner will leave here tomorrow. G. B. will go back to Tukucha.
(9) What are you doing about the return journey? The coolie situation will be critical: it takes eight days between giving the order here and the arrival of a first batch – only twenty at a time. Good hunting!
F. D. N., I
CHAC
, O
UDOT
P.S. from Ichac: For taking cine-shots in colour: when the light is full strength you can go up to F. 11.
It was too late for a wireless message at 17 hrs., but I would try at 19 hrs., this time, I hoped, with more success. The news about the monsoon was worrying: it would be heart-breaking to be stopped by its sudden arrival now we were nearing our goal. If it had already begun in the region of Calcutta it would be only a few days before it reached us here. I tried to establish wireless communication with Camp I, but with no success. To give the people at Camp I the latest news, I decided to answer their note at the last possible moment before leaving.
The sunset was magnificent; the precipices of the Nilgiris and of Annapurna turned from gold to orange, and orange to purple; the sky was pure and clear; it was very cold; all excellent signs. Were these last days of fine weather to be our final chance? The Nilgiris were now in shadow and the upper rocks of Annapurna had turned to old rose; when the rest of the mountain was already plunged in darkness one last point – the summit – held the light for a few seconds longer.
We passed an uneventful night: there were few avalanches since there had been no snow during the day. At 6 o’clock we jumped out of our sleeping-bags; the weather was perfect. Lachenal struck me as being in excellent form – he seemed to have got over his bad patch and to be making a splendid comeback.
‘So you’ve got your socks and your shirt?’ I said, while he was packing his rucksack. This extra little bit of comfort had put him in high good humour. We were both convinced that this journey up would bring us victory.
While the Sherpas made up the loads, I quickly wrote a note for Camp I:
31.5.50
To all Sahibs
I am about to leave for Camp III with Biscante. We intend to push on right to the top, weather permitting. Schatz and Couzy will form the third contingent. Will Matha dispatch the following telegram to Devies:
‘Attacking Annapurna stop difficult route over snow and ice but allowing rapid progress stop objective dangers from avalanches and seracs slight stop Camp I/16,750 II/19,350 III/21,650 IV/23,500 established stop hoping for victory stop health and morale of all perfect Maurice Herzog.’
Food:
a small quantity has been taken up. Couzy at Camp II will give directions for dispatch up to Camp III.
Wireless:
have been able to hear very little. Look into it with Schatz who has gone down.
Monsoon:
keep me well posted.
Return:
an advance guard will go to Tukucha and see to recruiting coolies.
Cinema:
I’ll do my utmost to take a cine-camera to the summit.
M. H
ERZOG
That we were all optimistic was apparent in our preparations. I noticed that each of us paid great attention to the contents of his own little medical supply and to the spare films for cameras and cine-camera. Surreptitiously I put the little French flag, made specially by Schatz, into my sack as well as the pennants which I was so anxious to take up. Everything was ready.
We left the camp and, having gone round the big crevasse, made straight for the great avalanche cone. The snow held well and it was neither too cold nor too hot, but just right. Our morale went rocketing up.
‘Maurice, what’s happening?’
‘They’re coming down!’
It was only too true. To our great disappointment we made out four black specks coming down the track towards us.
1
Astringent anti-sunburn lotion.
12
The Assault
WHY HAD THEY
given up? We could not understand it. Lachenal, who was moving at a fair pace and appeared to be going much more easily than during the last few days, was the first up the avalanche cone and across the couloir. It was the third time I had been over this route and I knew it well by now, but again I found it both difficult and dangerous. On the little platform beneath the ice wall where we had left a fixed rope, we came upon Terray and Rébuffat.
‘What’s happened?’ I asked Terray.
‘We’d have been crazy to go on.’ He seemed disheartened. ‘What with the wind and this hellish snow it took us more than seven hours yesterday to get from Camp III to Camp IV.’
‘Did you find the tent?’
‘Yes, but we had to straighten the poles, which had been bent over by snow slides. We got the other tent up in a tearing wind. Gaston felt his feet beginning to freeze.’
‘I thought I’d had it,’ put in Gaston. ‘Luckily Lionel rubbed me and flogged me with an end of rope, and at last got the blood circulating again.’
‘This morning,’ Terray went on, ‘the cold was worse than in Canada and the wind even stronger than the previous day. I worked it out like this: if yesterday, when we were quite fit, we only covered just over 1000 feet in seven hours, we wouldn’t have a hope of climbing the last 4000 feet under present conditions. I know we must do all we can, up to the limit of what’s possible, but I’m beginning to have doubts about our success.’
Although Lachenal and I protested vigorously, the other two did not seem to be affected by our enthusiasm. Terray, for all his strength, had only just managed to cope with the snow (which covered the tracks afresh every day), with the slopes which had to be mastered yard by yard, and with the deterioration of mind and body brought on by altitude. But he did not care to dwell on all these obstacles – he had no wish to undermine our solid morale.