Letters From Everest

by George Lowe, Huw Lewis-Jones, Jan Morris, Peter Hillary

  24th May. Tom, Charles and John with their two Sherpas crept above Camp VII and worked slowly to South Col. We watched them through glasses, they were slow, seven hours, and arrived late and very tired. On 24th we packed up and Greg and I with our Sherpas left for Camp V, where we spent the night (a cold night, our thermometer read -27° Centigrade at 5 a.m.).

  25th May. Tom and Charles were timed to make an attempt on the South Peak and summit if possible using closed circuit. Due to the weather (wind) and their tired condition from previous day they stayed on South Col. Greg and I left for VI using oxygen (2 litres per minute). We made good time, and at VI changed to 4 litres and we headed up on the Lhotse Face for VII. You will remember that the climb from V to VII is up the difficult Lhotse Face on which nearly 1,000 ft of rope is fixed. Above VI I began to falter. I began to pant and weaken although Greg was making a slow pace. I began to worry and think I was failing – but it turned out to be a defect in my oxygen set which was cutting right out and the mask was stopping even the outside air getting in. The trip to VII, for me, was hell and I collapsed on the snow at VII and took a couple of hours to recover. At VII I was able to trace the trouble and the set behaved beautifully the next day. Ed and Tenzing came right through to VII from IV that day and arrived fresh and fit.

  Although Everest was blowing a cloud plume on these days the weather was very settled and the weather report (from Indian radio) gave us: “Warm temperatures, winds 15-20 knots and settled weather. Monsoon still only in the Andaman Sea”. Camp VII (24,000 ft approximately) was calm that night (Temp -28° Centigrade).

  26th May. We left VII at 8.45 a.m. and had wonderful conditions for our climb to South Col. I filmed much of the climb and felt really wonderful. The climb starts near the top of the Lhotse Face glacier and for perhaps a thousand feet is a steady crampon climb up crevassed slopes and then swings left to traverse above rock bands and goes diagonally and up the great snow slopes towards the Col. The South Col is not reached direct. The rock buttress of ‘Eperon de Genevois’ stops this and our route connected with the very top of the Eperon over which we climbed and dropped several hundred feet into the South Col (25,850 ft).

  About 1 p.m. on 26th we began traversing rock and snow at the top of the Eperon. The South Peak of Everest was in view (the South Peak is a beautiful snow peak and sweeps up looking incredibly steep) and on the final slope I saw two dots, like flies on a wall, about two hundred feet below the cornice of the top. We went mad with excitement as we watched Tom and Charles go steadily up and over the South Summit (28,720 ft) and, we thought, off for the main summit. They were higher than anyone ever before and apparently going at a very fast rate. They had climbed from the South Col that morning and reached the South Summit in 5½ hours. John, too, had set out with Da Namgyl (both on open circuit) ahead of Tom and Charles to carry Ridge Camp, but with the closed circuit they easily overtook him and far outclassed the open circuit at the highest altitudes. Balu, the other Sherpa, had failed – in fact he refused to go above the South Col.

  Greg and I were so excited at seeing Tom and Charles that we ran down into the Col Camp to shout the news to Ed and Tenzing. Ed came out of the Dome tent with a great whoop and then dived back again. Tenzing, we were hurt to find, lost his smile and did not share our enthusiasm. The idea of team effort had not been revealed to him and the idea that anybody but Tenzing should reach the summit was not pleasurable to him.

  Ed’s disappearance into the dome I thought strange and I pushed my way in to find John lying quite exhausted with Ed plying drinks and oxygen. Ed and Tenzing had arrived on the Col before us and Ed saw John returning with Da Namgyl from his ridge carry. John and Da N. had carried to 27,350 ft and were returning completely done in. John was staggering and crumpling and staggering on again, when Ed rushed off to help him. Ed assisted him on his shoulder and slapped his oxygen mask on him for a good half hour (John’s oxygen had run out at 27,350 and he came down without). Da Namgyl’s hands were frostbitten and he was very tired. I went in to see John and he said amongst other things: “Do you know, the most awful thing about being completely shagged?” – “You piddle your pants and can do nothing about it!”

  John certainly earned our admiration – he’s got tremendous guts. This day he pushed himself to the absolute limit – but this was typical of him all through.

  There were three tents on South Col; a Pyramid, a Dome and a Meade. They respectively housed four, two and two. The Pyramid had previously been used by Sherpas and was in a disgraceful condition. The floor was in shreds and parting at the stitching at the seams. The windward side had a four-inch tear which later caused great inconvenience by admitting drifting snow and cold wind. The rope guys were far too light and in the tremendous and ceaseless buffeting on the Col they were fraying and broken when we arrived. Ed and I went out in the afternoon into a freezing roaring wind and began to repair the tent. We found a pile of strong Swiss line and began replacing all the guys and placing rocks around the worst tears in the floor to protect it from the plucking of the wind.

  During this time, the S. Summit became enveloped in cloud and we began to worry about Tom and Charles. We knew, as they knew, that if their closed circuit sets failed in any way (and they had many gadgets, valves, tubes and canisters susceptible to error) they would not come back. Tom was an exceedingly determined thruster and we felt his enthusiasm would overcome good sense – but Ed remarked “Charles is pretty sensible – I think he’ll balance Tom”.

  About this time the three Sherpas who had been chosen to carry with Greg to the Ridge Camp arrived on the Col from Camp VII. They had set out with us and gone slowly and badly. This was disturbing as we had placed high hopes on them. They were Amg Temba, Pemba and Ang Nima. Ang Temba we thought the best, and were amazed to find that when he dumped his load (30 lbs) outside the tent he keeled over and for ten minutes was out cold. Pemba was very tired while Ang Nima was quite fresh and unaffected by the altitude.

  John by this time had recovered and was fretting about Tom and Charles. He kept peering up the ridge looking for their return. The afternoon passed and we all became more and more worried. As we fixed the last ropes I saw some moving dots at the head of the couloir, by which they had reached the ridge. I watched until, in the shifting mist, I was certain and shouted the news. Our relief was tremendous.

  Their descent of the couloir was frightening to watch. Dog-tired, they started down one at a time, each anchoring the other and each falling off as they tried to kick downhill. They slid and fell their rope lengths, each just managing to hold the other. As Tom said, “We yo-yo’d our way down – it was quite fun!”

  Ed and I went out to meet them, and I filmed their arrival. They were still wearing and using their closed circuit and apart from the masks which covered nose, mouth and chin they were covered in icicles. Ice driblets from the mask outlet had stuck to their windproofs and they were panting and labouring just to move along the flat.

  They had not gone far beyond the South Summit – a few yards only – their soda lime canisters did not leave them with enough time in hand to risk going on. The summit ridge seemed long (Tom judged 2 or 3 hours and Charles thought 4 or more), it was corniced and had a difficult vertical rock step in it. Tom took 18 photographs and they turned down. Just below the South Summit they jettisoned two oxygen bottles having enough left to get to South Col. These bottles were a vital help in getting Ed and Tenzing to the top two days later.

  That night Ed, Tenzing, Greg and I slept in the pyramid; John, Tom and Charles squashed into the two-man Meade, while Ang Temba, Pemba and Ang Nima passed the night in the even smaller Dome. That night for everyone was pure misery. The wind slammed over the Col and worried the tents, whining, roaring and snapping incessantly. It became the curse of the Col, sapping our tempers and eating indelibly into our memories. We will never forget the South Col. We all spent there the most miserable days and nights of our lives.

  The temperature dropped until we were all cold even though fu
lly dressed (we wore our high altitude boots in the sleeping bags to stop them freezing) with full down clothing and our warm sleeping bags. I have never been so miserable with freezing feet (they were lightly frost-bitten – getting better now), cold knees and back which was rammed hard against the windward side of the tent. My pillow was a kit bag full of frozen snow – hard, cold and unsatisfactory. What a night! But it was only the first of four which grew increasingly worse.

  At 4.30 a.m. we began to prepare breakfast in the hope of an early start in carrying Ridge Camp. Our appetites were good – we had carried up some ‘luxury food’ and ate the lot at breakfast. I remember the menu – ‘vita-wheat’ biscuits with honey; sardines on biscuit (‘vita-wheat’); two tins of pineapple (between 4); slices of saucisson (salami or raw bacon sausage), biscuits and honey and lastly a tin of Australian pears. We ate and spread honey with gloves on and you can imagine what a messy business it was.

  Our hopes of starting faded when at 8 a.m. the wind velocity had increased to over 70 or 80 m.p.h. and never looked like decreasing. All day, 27th May, it blew and put the chances of climbing on a ridge out of the question.

  Supplies on the Col were limited and Charles and Tom had to go down. Ang Temba was so sick that he too was to go down. John, too, although he felt as leader he should stay to see and support the main assault, decided to go down and leave me to join the Ridge carry. With Ang Temba out of the carry, someone had to replace him, and I was fit. So again, although not supposed in the plan to stay on South Col, I was now in the ridge party.

  Ang Temba, Tom, Charles and John left in the howling wind. Their climb to the top of the Eperon (500 ft) took nearly two hours. Ed and I assisted them – they were dreadfully weak but once over the Eperon they were out of the worst wind and going downhill. Their journey to VII was an epic and there they were received by Wilfrid Noyce and Mike Ward. On 28th they limped to Advanced Base, to good food, attention and rest.

  For the remainder of 27th May we sat out the wind and dreaded the coming of night. The night was a repetition of the previous one and in the morning we were stiff, bad-tempered, ill-fed with very frayed morale. The wind mercifully eased and we stiffly prepared to go. Three hours it took to make a few simple preparations. Then an apparently crippling blow fell. Pemba suddenly spewed over the tent floor and began to groan and said he couldn’t go. That left one Sherpa, Ang Nima, and we needed three. That hour the expedition hopes recorded their lowest reading!

  After a discussion we agreed to try and lift the two extra Sherpa loads between us. The weights were about 45 lbs each which seemed Herculean when a good load at this altitude was considered to be 15 lbs.

  Greg, Ang Nima and I got away at 8.45 a.m. Ed and Tenzing decided to delay at least an hour to save their strength and oxygen while we cut steps up the couloir. We were heavily clothed and with the loads we stomped along like robots. We made a very slow steady pace which we managed to hold without stopping and began to make height. The wind dropped to a comparative breeze and we slugged up into the couloir and I began cutting steps. Cutting steps at 27,000 is an experience – a study in ‘go slow’. It took three hours to get up to the ridge (27,200 ft) where we saw the wreckage of the Swiss top camp (one tent) with not a vestige of the cloth on the aluminium bones. Here we dropped our loads and enjoyed the tremendous view. Lhotse and Makalu were wonderful, Kangchenjunga jutted out above the clouds. Below was the Kangshung and Kharta glaciers with wonderful views of brown Tibet beyond.

  Ed Hillary at 27,200 ft on the South-East Ridge, the day before his successful ascent.

  Oddly enough I enjoyed and remembered the couloir climb and the view as if it were at sea-level. I had read that altitude robbed both these. With me it was not so. Here Ed and Tenzing caught up with us. Greg was going exceedingly well, Ang Nima the same and we urged him on by saying that if he went a bit higher he would have carried and gone higher than any Sherpa in the world. He was very ambitious and carried magnificently. About 150 ft above here we reached John’s highest point and found the rolled tent, food, an R.A.F. oxygen cylinder and other oddments and these we had to add to our loads. Ed took the tent, Greg the R.A.F. cylinder and I took food oddments and some of Greg’s load and we left there with Ed carrying 63 lbs; Greg 50 lbs; self 50 lbs; Ang Nima 45 lbs and Tenzing 43 lbs.

  From here the ridge is moderately steep – odd broken rock and towers followed by snow ridge. I led and the snow was bloody – knee deep and loose. From then on the upward progress was grim-dead-brained toil. I don’t really know how we endured the weight. We pushed up to where we thought a flat spot would be and found it quite untenable. We pushed on again – and again the same thing – and so on. About 2.30 p.m. we stopped below a snow shoulder and found a tiny ledge where we dumped our loads. Ed and Tenzing began clearing a site which was too small for the tent. Snow flurries were beginning and although very tired we set off within two minutes of arrival after cheery banter to and from Ed on the chances for the morrow. The height of Camp IX – Ridge Camp – has been estimated at 27,900 ft.

  Our return was slow and tough. Greg had cracked up, Ang Nima was very tired and I had to recut steps all the way down the couloir. From the couloir Greg was collapsing every 50 yards and gasping with exhaustion. I was tired – dreadfully tired – but quite able to keep going without pause, and funnily enough with sufficient mentality to appreciate the glorious evening colours over Kangchenjunga and Makalu. I photographed them. Near the tents I unroped and pushed on. Pemba had made a hot drink and I tossed this down, grabbed the movie camera, staggered out and sitting against a rock, filmed the arrival of Greg and Ang Nima which I hope shows something of the state of really flogged men. We drank hot lemon and tea and crawled into our bags – but not to sleep. The night, the wind and the cold came and we passed another bloody night.

  Bloodiest for Greg because he spent an agonising 1½ hours groaning and straining in the darkness of our tent trying to get his bowels to function. Outside on the Col was so miserable, and the desire caught him soon after dozing off. He was so constipated and so exhausted that he couldn’t manage his task and for an hour and a half he knelt groaning and straining over an old tin at my feet. I was too tired to care and just lay careless of his deep trouble. He remembers it as his most terrible experience.

  The 29th May finally dawned. On the Col it was windy – it was always windy. The sun hit the top of the tent about 5 a.m. It crept down the walls releasing the frost of condensed breath in a shower over us – as usual. Greg had decided to go down as he was too weak to be of use to any returning summit party. Ang Nima and Pemba went down too and left me alone on the Col to receive Ed and Tenzing. At 8 o’clock we saw Ed and T. on the way up the final slopes of the South Summit – going slowly but steadily. At 9 a.m. they disappeared over the S. Summit and somehow then I felt that they would reach the summit. I boiled soup and lemonade and filled the two thermos flasks we had. I prepared oxygen bottles with all connections and masks ready for instant use and set bedding ready as if to receive casualties.

  Outside I prepared the spare oxygen frame with the two emergency cylinders which I intended to carry up and meet them to assist their descent.

  At 1 p.m. they appeared again on S. Summit and began the descent of the steep loose snow slope. I was wildly excited and leapt into action. I packed the thermos flasks, slung the movie camera in (4 lbs) – put on crampons, gloves – vaselined my nose, face and lips against the wind, tied a scarf round my face for extra protection (I was severely wind-burnt and the skin was frost-affected from the other days and very sore); got into the oxygen carrying frame with two bottles and set off to meet the boys. About 400 yards from camp I began to feel groggy – I was carrying too much, had started too excited and too fast. After the previous day’s effort I was not as good as I thought. I looked up and saw Ed and T. were coming down quite fast and steadily and were so far away that I could be of no immediate help so I tottered back to the tent. There I watched them from the tent door. They stopped at Camp IX a
t 2 p.m. and didn’t leave there until 3 p.m. (they had a boil-up of lemonade and collected their sleeping bags) and came down the ridge and then the couloir going absolutely steadily.

  Just before 4 p.m. I set out again to meet them, and as I left the tents Wilf Noyce arrived with Pasang Phutar. He had been sent up by John as a useful support to receive and help the summit party in case they were exhausted. It was good to see them and they began to prepare hot drinks as I left.

  I dragged up again and met Ed and T. at the foot of the couloir – perhaps 500 ft above the Col. They were moving fairly rapidly – the only tiredness showed in their slightly stiff-legged walking as they cramponned the last bit of the couloir. I crouched, back against the wind and poured out the thermos contents as they came up. Ed unclipped his mask and grinned a tired greeting, sat on the ice and said in his matter of fact way, “Well, we knocked the bastard off!”

  It was not quite matter-of-fact – he was slightly incredulous of what he had done. Although I had a feeling they had been successful, the statement roused in me a terrific surge of emotion and relief. Tenzing, though tired, was all smiles and I congratulated them both enthusiastically and Ed’s remark was “It was a wonderful climb – but if you’d have been there you’d have done the same.”

  We walked down to the tents talking ninety to the dozen about the climb. Their return was the most normal of any party on the Col. They walked up to the tents, swung off their oxygen sets, unroped and crawled into the tents, chatting all the time of the climb. We all drank huge quantities of coffee and lemonade and talked until late that night. Wilf, Ed and I squeezed ourselves into the Meade while T. and Pasang Phutar slept in the Dome.

  Ed will – I hope – write fully of the climb, but here are a few details. The day went according to plan – they sat the night out in Camp IX (the platform was too small to lie on), they dozed and brewed drinks and left at 6.30 a.m. on 3 litres of oxygen per minute. 9 a.m. South Summit (the last part a very steep climb up bad snow). The summit ridge was corniced and steep and Ed led for 2½ hours cutting steps all the way. He, himself, said he felt good all the way, and was able to cut and move steadily without pause. A rock step – vertical 40 ft – was climbed by a chimney in which he worked back and knee and the last part was tantalising because of crest after crest without the top. Finally at 11.30 they came to ‘the perfect summit’ – a sharp snow cone on which they looked down on everything. “Tenzing was so excited that he embraced me”, said Ed, “It’s the perfect summit, every main ridge comes up to it and you can look down each one. I took a photograph looking down every ridge and one of Tenzing on top waving the flags that he had carried up. I think they were the United Nations, Union Jack, Indian and French flags, but I’m not sure.”