The original text of Scott's suicide note
The original text of Scott's "Desperate Letter" is:
On March 4th, at lunch time, we are indeed in a difficult situation, but no one has been depressed yet. At least we have maintained a good morale on the outside, but when the sled is stuck on some snow waves, everyone's heart will suddenly sink. Now the temperature is MINUS 2 degrees, which has improved. We feel much more comfortable, but a colder cold wave will come soon. I'm afraid Oates will suffer again. God, help us. We don't have much hope for help now. We only hope that there will be more food at the next supply station. If there is also a shortage of oil there, it would be too bad. Can we get there? In fact, there is only a short distance. I really don't know what I would have done if Wilson and Bowles hadn't always overcome difficulties with high morale. ?
Monday, March 5th, lunch time. It's a pity that the situation is getting worse. Yesterday afternoon, we were caught in an oblique wind, which lasted for 35 hours. The March in the morning was not very good. We only walked 35 miles and walked more than 89 miles all day. We drank a cup of cocoa, ate some minced meat that was a little hard, and then went to bed. Oates' foot is still in poor condition. Last night, one foot was swollen so high that he could only limp this morning. Like last night, we started marching after eating minced meat and drinking tea-we pretended to like minced meat in this way. In the morning, a section of the road was in a slightly better condition. We walked for five hours, the sleigh overturned twice, and we hauled it on foot for 55 miles. None of us expected such a low temperature, and the low temperature had the greatest influence on Wilson, mainly because he always sacrificed his body temperature to warm his feet for Oates. We can't help each other, so it's good that everyone can take care of themselves. All of us are always very excited when we are in the tent, in order to keep a good mental state to face the long-term hauling work that we have never encountered in our lives, but it is really too difficult, and we feel that the progress is very slow. We talked about various topics in the tent, but now we don't talk much about food, because we decided to take the risk of rationing food in full. At this time, we can't go forward hungry.
Tuesday, March 6th, lunch time. Yesterday afternoon, with the help of the wind, we made a slight improvement, completing 95 miles in the whole day, and there are still 27 miles to the supply station. But things got worse this morning. It was very warm at night. I overslept for an hour for the first time on the trip. Then we put on our shoes and socks slowly, and then we tried our best to haul them, but we couldn't even walk a mile an hour. Later, the weather became dark, and we untied the rope three times to find the track. As a result, I left less than 3 hours before noon. Five miles. Now the sun is shining high and the wind has died down. Poor Oates couldn't haul, and he sat on the sleigh when we went to find the track-he was actually very patient because his foot must have hurt badly. He never complained and became more and more silent in the tent. We are now trying to use alcohol lamps instead of kerosene lamps in order to use them when the oil is exhausted. ?
on Wednesday, March 7th, the situation is still getting worse. Oates had a very bad foot this morning. He was very brave. We were talking about what to do when we got home together.
we only traveled 65 miles yesterday. It took us four hours to walk just over four miles this morning, and we are still 16 miles away from the supply point. If there are only normal supplies there and the road conditions continue as they are now, we may reach the next supply station (Hooper Mountains, 72 miles), but we can't reach the warehouse supply station. We urgently hope that the dog sled team has reached Hooper Mountain, in which case we may overcome the difficulties. If the shortage of oil continues, our hope will be very slim. Considering the heavy physical labor we are doing at present, our state is quite good, but poor Oates is facing an approaching crisis. We can only keep going if we eat well now. There was no wind this morning. The sun is shining and the stone piles are clearly visible.
Thursday, March 8th, lunch time. The situation in the morning is getting worse and worse. Oates' left foot can't hold on any longer, and it is very laborious to put on shoes and socks. Wilson's foot is in trouble now, mainly because he has given too much help to others. We finished 45 miles this morning, and now there are 85 miles to the supply point-the distance is very short, and even this distance has brought us difficulties. It's a bit ridiculous, but on this road, we can't even reach half the normal marching speed, and we have to pay twice as much energy and effort. An important question is: what can we find in the supply station if the dog sled team has been to the supply station. Then we may travel a long distance, but if there is another shortage of oil, then only God can really help us. From any angle, our present situation is very critical. ?
on Saturday, March 1th, things went from bad to worse. Oates' feet are worse. His morale is low, and he must have known he couldn't make it. He asked Wilson if he had a chance to take part in the March this morning. Of course, Bill can only say that he doesn't know. Starting from the facts, he really has no chance. If he collapses now and we leave him, I really doubt whether we can pull through. The weather is bad, and our equipment is covered with more and more ice, which is difficult to handle ...?
Yesterday we marched to the supply station in Hooper Mountains. A little comfort. There, the supplies we needed were not fully replenished. I don't know who to blame. The dog sled team obviously didn't arrive here. I guess Mills' trip home must have been terrible, too. ?
There was silence at breakfast this morning, but when we set out, the wind blew from the north-northwest direction, and the wind rose rapidly. After marching for half an hour, none of us could continue to persist in this situation. We were forced to camp and spend the rest of the day in the stormy camp.
Sunday, March 11th. Tiitus Oates is very close to the end of his life, and everyone can feel it. Only God knows what we or he should do. After breakfast, we discussed the present situation. He is a brave guy and knows the present situation, but he is actually asking us for advice. We can't say anything but urge him to move forward as far as possible. The discussion reached a satisfactory result: in fact, I ordered Wilson to take control of the way to end our predicament, so that any of us could know what to do when we could not stand it any longer. We collected all the medicines. * * * There were 3 opium pills, and one morphine was left for Oates. This is the tragic side of our story. ?
when we set out this morning, it was completely dark. We can't see things clearly, lose track and walk hard. I walked 31 miles before noon, which is quite good. Now, without the help of the wind or the improvement of road conditions, 6 miles is about the limit we can reach. We still have 7 days of food, and it should be about 55 miles from the warehouse supply station tonight. Six miles a day, only 42 miles in seven days. Even if the situation doesn't get worse, there are still 13 miles to complete.
Monday, March 12th. We finished 69 miles yesterday, still below the average we had to finish. The situation is basically the same. Oates' hands are as bad as his feet now. We traveled 4 miles in 4 hours and 2 minutes this morning. We hope to finish 3 miles in the afternoon, but I doubt whether we can do it. The road conditions are still not good, it is freezing, and our physical condition is gradually declining. God help us, there has been no wind behind us for more than a week. But there may be an oncoming wind at any time.
Wednesday, March 14th. Everything is not going well now. When we woke up yesterday morning, there was a strong north wind, and the temperature was MINUS 37 degrees, so we couldn't go against the wind and had to stay in the camp until 2 o'clock. And then traveled 525 miles. Later, I wanted to March on, but the north wind kept blowing, and the players felt very cold. After the sun went down, the temperature was even lower. It took a long time to have dinner in the dark.
It was a southerly wind when we set out this morning, and the sails were hoisted, and the speed was good. Experienced another stone pile. However, halfway, the wind blows from south to west, or west-southwest direction, and the wind can blow into our windbreaker and gloves. Poor Wilson is so cold that sometimes he can't even take off his skis. Bowles and I were actually doing the camping work, and when we finally entered the tent, we almost froze to death. Now the daytime temperature has dropped to MINUS 43 degrees, and the wind is strong. We must keep going. But now every camping is more and more difficult and dangerous. Poor Oates, his feet are torturing him again. I'm too scared to even think about what tomorrow will be like. He endured the most severe pain. No one thought that there would be such a low temperature and such a violent wind at this time of year. The situation outside the tent is really terrible. We must use the last biscuit to get through this, but the food quota cannot be reduced.
Friday, March 16th, and Saturday, March 17th. At lunch the day before yesterday, poor Tiitus Oates said that he couldn't go any further. He suggested that we leave him in his sleeping bag. We couldn't do that. We persuaded him to stick to it and continue the March in the afternoon. Although he was really dying, he still struggled to walk a few more miles with us. In the evening, his condition deteriorated further, and we knew that the end had come.
all this should be discovered, and I hope to record these facts. Oates thought of his mother at his last moment, but immediately thought proudly that his cavalry would be proud of his fearless way of welcoming death. We can experience his bravery. He endured severe pain for weeks without complaining, and at the last minute he was able and willing to take the initiative to talk about some outdoor subjects. He didn't-won't-give up hope until the last moment. He is a brave soul. This is the end. When he fell asleep the night before yesterday, he hoped that he would never wake up again, but he woke up yesterday morning. There is still a snowstorm outside. He said, "I'm just going outside. Maybe I won't be back for a while." He went out into the snowstorm, and we haven't seen him since. ?
I would like to take this opportunity to say that we have been supporting our sick companions until the end. Edgar evans fell unconscious when we were extremely short of food. The merciful God took him away at this critical moment, and his departure objectively met the safety needs of those of us who are still alive. He died of natural causes, and we didn't leave him until two hours after his death. We know that poor Oates is now on his way to death. Although we try our best to persuade him not to do so, we know that this is a heroic act of a brave man and an English gentleman. We all hope that we can greet the end with a similar fearless spirit, and we are sure that the end is not far away.
I can only keep a diary during lunch or other occasional breaks. It's 4 degrees below zero during the day, which is extremely cold. My friends have always maintained high morale, but all of us are on the verge of severe frostbite. Although we keep talking about overcoming difficulties, I don't think anyone really believes this in my heart. ?
We always feel cold when marching now, and at other times, except for eating, I'm afraid. Yesterday, we were delayed by the snowstorm, and today's progress is still slow. We are now in No.14 horse camp, only two marches away from the warehouse supply station. We left the theodolite, a camera and Oates' sleeping bag here. At Wilson's special request, I brought my diary and geological samples so that others could find them around us and on the sleigh.
Sunday, March 18th. At lunch today, we were 21 miles away from the supply station. Yesterday, there were more oncoming winds and drifting snow, so we had to stop marching. The wind direction was northwest, the wind force was 4, and the temperature was MINUS 35 degrees. Humans could not face this situation, and we almost exhausted our last strength.
My right foot and almost all my toes are out of control-just two days ago, I was proud that I had the best pair of feet among us. Bowles is in the best condition now, but after all, it doesn't help much. Others are still full of confidence in getting through this-or just pretending to be like this-I don't know. The last half can of oil is left in the oil reservoir of our oil lamp, and our alcohol is only a little left. The wind is calm now, which may help us a little. ?
Monday, the morning of March 19th. I made great efforts to camp yesterday, and it was very cold. I didn't feel better until after dinner. Dinner is cold minced meat, biscuits and half a pot of cocoa cooked with alcohol. Afterwards, we warmed up and everyone slept soundly.
today's departure was as slow as ever. The sleigh glided with great difficulty. We are now 155 miles from the supply station, and we should be able to arrive in three days. What kind of progress is this? We only have two days' food and barely enough fuel for one day. All our feet are getting worse, Wilson's is the best, my right foot is worse, and my left foot is fine. It is impossible to care for our feet before we can eat hot food. Amputation is the best result I can expect at present, but whether the trouble will expand is a serious problem. The weather doesn't give us any chance at all. The wind direction is from northwest to north, and today's temperature is MINUS 4 degrees.
On Wednesday, March 21st, Monday evening, it was less than 11 miles from the supply depot. Yesterday, there was another snowstorm, so it had to be delayed all day. Today, Wilson and Bowles will go to the supply station to find oil with little hope.
22nd and 23rd. The snowstorm is still howling, Wilson and Bowles can't start-tomorrow is the last chance-there is no oil and only a little food left-it's really close to the end. We decided to let nature take its course-we would head for the supply depot and die naturally on our way home.
Thursday, March 29th. Since the 21st, the west-southwest wind has been blowing continuously. We only have enough oil to cook two cups of tea, and there are two days of food left on the 2th. Every day we are always ready to leave for the supply station 11 miles away, but there are always whirlpools of snow and ice outside the tent. Now, I think it is impossible for us to expect the situation to get better, but we will persist until the last moment, but we are getting weaker and weaker. Of course, the end is not far away.
I'm really sorry, but I don't think I can write any more.
1. Because Scott is a great explorer with fearless exploration spirit, strong sense of honor, responsibility and mission, tenacious will, heroic spirit to overcome difficulties, rational spirit to face reality and accept failure, and honest personality. The great spirit behind Scott's failure, especially the heroic spirit of tenacious struggle with nature and overcoming difficulties with incomparable courage.