An Unsung Hero: Tom Crean - Antarctic Survivor (23 page)

Last entry.

Robert Falcon Scott was 43, Edward Adrian Wilson, 39, and Henry Robertson Bowers, 28.

C
aptain Scott made a fundamental error in his polar plans when he declined to include Tom Crean in the final party which went to the South Pole. Although it is a grisly exercise to dissect events after all these years, there is nevertheless a compelling case for declaring that the Irishman should have gone to the Pole and that his powerful presence might have made the vital difference on the fateful return journey. For Scott and his companions it could have been the difference between life and death.

Scott, it must be said, made two basic mistakes in selecting his final party to reach the Pole. First, he chose the men at the wrong time and second he chose the wrong men.

There is little evidence to show that Scott had picked his final team when the party first marched onto the Barrier in November 1911, at the start of the long journey. At his disposal, including himself, he had some 25 men, although this can be reduced to under twenty after allowing for injuries, alternative scientific work and the need for some like Ponting to return home on
Terra Nova
.

He started the trek with sixteen men, although arguably the best ice traveller, the Norwegian ski expert Gran, was left behind and consigned to a minor geological expedition. In addition, he failed to understand the strength and suitability of the dog teams and chose to employ them in a subsidiary role.

It seems a bizarre decision all these decades later, but Scott did not pick his men for the key stage of the journey until the journey was already half done. He had the months of idleness at Cape Evans beforehand to weigh up their strengths and weaknesses, and choose the men who were best suited for the lengthy trip.

With careful handling on the initial stages of the journey across the Barrier and up the Beardmore, he could have sheltered the final party from too much laborious man-hauling work. This would have ensured that the key personnel would be fresher and fitter to make the dash to the Pole and back. Instead the men all pulled and worked as hard as each other, so were almost equally as tired before the final lap.

In contrast, he did precisely that with the ponies, who in any event, were doomed to execution at the foot of the Beardmore. He decided that the ponies were to carry relatively light loads on approximately 150 miles of the 400-mile trek across the Barrier, although the unexpected shortage of feed did mean that they were eventually pushed a lot harder.

Scott’s assault on the Pole was organised like a relay race, except that the men on the final stages were also used as pacemakers and were already severely tired when they were asked to sprint the final lap.

The first clear indication of the polar team make-up did not emerge in his otherwise frank diaries until 22 December, seven weeks after starting out and by then more than 7,000 ft (2,140 m) up the Beardmore. On that date he wrote the names of five men – Scott, Wilson, Oates, Bowers and Taff Evans – in the flyleaf of his notebook.

But by this stage, his options had been severely reduced. The underutilised dog teams under Meares and Dimitri, who had been travelling well, had gone back and so had Day and Hooper. This left twelve and on 21 December he sent another four men back – Atkinson, Wright, Keohane and Cherry-Garrard.

Over 60 years later in 1974, Gran would claim that Scott should have taken the strong young Canadian physicist
Wright, who was also trained in navigation, to the Pole.
¹
Gran’s view was that Taff Evans should have been jettisoned from the team. Wright himself said he was ‘quite certain’ that he and Cherry were ‘in better shape than at least one who was chosen to go on’.
²
This was presumably a reference to either Taff Evans or Oates.

Scott was down to the last eight men at the top of the Beardmore and it is apparent that his deputy Teddy Evans was not destined to go to the Pole, partly for personal reasons and partly because he was on the point of exhaustion. He was also in the early stages of scurvy. Realistically this left seven. But Lashly, an otherwise wholly suitable candidate for the final party, had already been man-hauling alongside Evans for well over 500 miles (800 km) when Scott wrote the five names into his notebook.

Lashly, a powerful man, had been drained by the extra effort, though in different circumstances he would have been an ideal choice for the final party. Cherry-Garrard always insisted that Scott should have taken Lashly on the final lap, but this ignores the obvious weakness of the seaman after strenuous man-hauling hundreds of miles more than his companions.

To all intents and purposes Teddy Evans and Lashly were no longer fit enough for the task. This left six possible choices – Scott, Wilson, Oates, Bowers, Taff Evans and Tom Crean.

Scott had given little away about his final selection and even Wilson said he fully expected to return with the last supporting party. Scott, he said, was ‘going to take the strongest fellows, perhaps three seamen’. The seamen in question were Taff Evans, Lashly and Tom Crean. But Lashly was already exhausted beyond redemption and Taff Evans was in decline, though it appears likely that Scott did not fully appreciate how badly the Welshman had deteriorated.

Scott himself was always destined to go for the obvious reason that he was the leader. But he also earned his place on merit. He was immensely strong and capable, despite being the oldest of the eight men.

Wilson was taken largely for personal reasons. He was by now Scott’s closest confidante, had borne his share of the work far better than expected and his overall performance made a strong case for inclusion. He was also a doctor, which might prove helpful. But he did not expect to be in the final team.

Taff Evans was Scott’s personal favourite, a man he had stood by during the worst excesses of his drinking and was always destined to be in the final party. Evans had been loyal and had proved a stalwart on many hazardous sledge journeys in the past. Scott also nursed the patronising notion that the ‘ranks’ should be represented at the Pole. Evans represented what Scott saw as the embodiment of the finest qualities of the ordinary British seaman. But Evans was beginning to fail by the time the party reached the top of the Beardmore, partly because of the serious cut to his hand and partly because as the largest of the party, he was probably not getting enough food. Scott chose to overlook this or simply did not spot it. Wilson had privately suggested to others that Evans was not ideally suited for the final lap but, weakly, appears to have refrained from giving Scott his blunt assessment.

There was also a sentimental touch to the choice of Oates, the cavalry captain. Scott wanted to reward Oates for getting the dilapidated ponies to the foot of the Beardmore and was also taken with the equally patronising belief that the army should be represented at the Pole. But Oates was already feeling the severe cold and limping because of the effects of a severe leg wound sustained in the Boer War which had made one leg slightly shorter than the other. It is also likely that he was in the early stages of scurvy. One of the early symptoms is that old scar tissue begins to weaken. Oates himself was undoubtedly surprised to be included in the final party and his friend, Atkinson, confided after the disaster than he had not wanted to go on. Scott was either not told about Oates’ condition or let sentimentality affect his judgement, much the same as he had done with Evans.

Bowers, on the other hand, had emerged as a giant. His strength and organisational ability were astonishing and he developed an outstanding case for inclusion. Also, he could navigate, which was vital on the featureless landscapes of the Plateau and Barrier. Bowers virtually picked himself.

The shortage of trained navigators was another important issue. Only three of the final eight – Scott, Bowers and Teddy Evans – could navigate. But since Scott had warmed to Bowers, it meant that there was no alternative to Evans leading the last supporting party back down the Beardmore and finding a path across the Barrier. Teddy Evans’ exclusion from the final party could be justified on that point alone.

Then there was Tom Crean, whose case for inclusion in the final party has been poorly considered by historians. Crean was among the toughest of all the men at Cape Evans and, more by luck than judgement, had emerged at the top of the Beardmore Glacier physically fitter than most. Indeed, Crean may well have been the strongest of all the eight men who stood on the Polar Plateau as Scott prepared his final selections.

Crean had been saved from much of the heavy labour of man-hauling because he walked the 400 miles (640 km) across the Barrier leading his pony, Bones, which was in the final batch of animals to be shot. His man-hauling, the most arduous back-breaking work of all, did not start until the Beardmore. It meant, for example, that he had man-hauled at least 350 miles (560 km) fewer than Lashly or Teddy Evans. More important, he did not have a nagging problem like Oates’ weeping war wound or Evans’ severely cut hand.

While the diaries and writings of the men on the Polar Plateau were already beginning to pick up indications of weakness here and there among the individuals, there is not a single reference to Crean showing any signs of deterioration.

Atkinson and Wilson, the two doctors, had a revealing conversation near the top of the Beardmore about the physical and mental fitness of the three seamen. Atkinson’s choice was Lashly and Wilson readily agreed.
³
But, as has
been demonstrated, Lashly was already seriously drained and would have been a liability. Atkinson then said he would take Crean, although Wilson did not altogether agree. But, significantly, neither Atkinson nor Wilson proposed taking Taff Evans – Scott’s first choice.

Scott greatly complicated matters when, at the last moment, he decided to take an extra man to the Pole. The decision to raise the final party to five was a mistake, given that the entire expedition had been planned around units of four. But by then, halfway across the plateau and 150 miles from the Pole, Scott was probably worried about the pulling power of the weakening men. He felt the need for more strength on the final lap. He appears to have been aware of the collective weakness, but not all the individual deficiencies.

With hindsight, it is arguable that Scott should have made his final selection of the polar party at Cape Evans in October 1911, well before the cavalcade set out. The four – or even five – men could then have undertaken the lightest possible work over the Barrier and up the Beardmore, pacing themselves and leaving them fresher and fitter for the final dash.

In the circumstances, the best equipped four-man team to start from Cape Evans would have been Scott, Bowers, Lashly and Tom Crean. For back-up reserve strength he could have nominated Taff Evans and Wright.

But, on the freezing Polar Plateau, after weeks of strenuous man-hauling and niggling little injuries, the options open to Scott were strictly limited. In terms of health and strength, Scott and Bowers were fine, Wilson a marginal case and Taff Evans and Oates in decline. Teddy Evans and Lashly were too run-down even to be considered.

Crean, by contrast, was noticeably fitter than Taff Evans, Oates, Lashly and Teddy Evans, and more naturally stronger than Wilson.

Cherry-Garrard, some years after the tragedy, wrote that if Scott had stuck to his original four-man party the men would have survived every misfortune. Cherry’s suggestion was a final
team of Scott, Wilson, Bowers and Lashly, though Lashly was obviously in no fit state for the journey when the final choice was being taken after the haul up the Beardmore.

The final party, chosen from the eight men left on the Plateau, should have been Scott, Bowers, Wilson and Tom Crean. If Scott had wanted the extra pulling power of a fifth man, the choice would probably fall between Lashly and Taff Evans, though neither was in ideal condition.

Under both scenarios, Tom Crean should have gone to the South Pole and those who doubt his qualifications need only read about his remarkable contribution to the last supporting party. Crean was a colossus and even after an exhausting journey of 1,500 miles (2,420 km), still had the strength and resourcefulness to walk 35 miles (56 km) alone across appalling terrain, without food and shelter, to save Teddy Evans’ life. The irony is that the day before his remarkable solo march, his friend Taff Evans died at the foot of the Beardmore and the Polar party had begun to disintegrate.

Crean’s endurance and immense strength of character was to prove the difference between life and death for Teddy Evans. While it is generally accepted that Scott’s final party were doomed to die, it is difficult to ignore the argument that the big Irishman might possibly have made the crucial difference. His outstanding performance on the last supporting party demonstrates that he would not have cracked coming down the Beardmore as Taff Evans did. Indeed, Scott noticed the loss of Evans’ pulling power with the sledge immediately after his death and Crean’s extra strength at this stage would have been critically important in covering vital mileage before the terrible weather engulfed the party just short of One Ton Depot.

It has been calculated that the Polar party would have reached One Ton Depot if the men had managed to travel a paltry 280 yards further each day between 4 January, when the last supporting party turned back, and when they camped for the last time on 19 March. Once there the men could have rebuilt their strength, weather permitting, for the final slog to
Hut Point, 140 miles (225 km) away. A slim hope, but hope nonetheless.

The case against Crean is that, if he had gone with Scott, he would have needed to cover about 300 miles (480 km) more than he did with Evans and Lashly on the last supporting party. Scurvy, in this case, may certainly have struck. Nor was there any realistic chance of survival, even if the party had reached One Ton Depot. A trip of 140 miles (225 km) to the safety of Hut Point in temperatures down to –40 °F (–40 °C) as the season closed in would have been a massive test for fit, well-fed men.