The following day they drove over the Kirkstone pass down to Ullswater where Abraham photographed them parked beside the lake. Reading between the lines of her letter, I get the impression that Enid was rather taken with Sandy ‘the last (but far from the least) member of the crew’. The dozen or so photographs taken en route are some of the most evocative images in the family’s collection. Abraham has succeeded in capturing the beauty of the scenery with the little car appearing often only as a tiny dot on the steep tracks. Dick was always very proud of the photographs and kept a full set of them in his desk until the end of his life. It was clearly the highlight of that year’s motoring for Sandy who wrote later: ‘Dick I’ll never forget those 2 days last vac – the most enjoyable of any I can ever remember’. Sandy returned to Oxford with the promise from Abraham that a letter would be sent to the Mount Everest Committee sooner rather than later.
One of the questions that has been in the back of my mind for a long time is why Sandy was ever considered a possible candidate for the 1924 expedition. He was so much younger than any of the other expedition members and although he had exhibited great skill and determination in the climbs he had done with Odell, he was sorely lacking in real mountaineering experience and his height record to date was 5,800 feet, some 23,200 feet lower than the summit of Mount Everest. There was nothing to lead anyone to be confident that he would perform well at altitude, nor did the fact that he climbed well up gulleys, chimneys and trees mean very much in terms of ice climbing in the Himalaya. I strongly suspect that it was Odell who influenced the committee’s decision, convincing them that on the mechanical front, at least, he was as good as Finch had been in 1922.
The Everest Committee certainly had a significant problem finding climbers with relevant experience and of the right age as the Great War had robbed England of a generation of young men. Those men who had experience of climbing in the Himalaya were very few and far between in the 1920s, and the majority of them had been there in the 1890s and the early 1900s, and were thus in their forties and fifties. The Everest Committee deemed these climbers to be to old to be considered for an assault on the mountain, so they went about finding the strongest alpinists of the day.
When it came to putting together a team for 1924 the Everest Committee decided, on the experiences of 1921 and ‘22, to set up a committee of twelve which included in their number George Mallory, Tom Longstaff, General Bruce and Percy Farrar. It was agreed that they needed to send eight climbers and began to look around, once again, for suitable candidates. By the summer of 1923 the list included Howard Somervell, Noel Odell, Benthley Beetham, Edward Norton and George Mallory. That Mallory would be invited was a given, although it was by no means certain that he would accept and indeed he left the question open until late in the Autumn of 1923. Norton and Somervell had proved themselves to be immensely strong climbers and very good at acclimatizing, Norton was also considered to be an excellent organizer and his strengths in that area were put to good use when he was appointed deputy leader under General Bruce. Geoffrey Bruce, the General’s nephew had had no mountaineering experience prior to 1922 but he and Finch had set a height record of 27,300 feet and it was decided he too should be included; Finch, however, would not be asked to go back. The committee was divided. Finch had proven, argued some, that given fine weather, Everest could be climbed using oxygen. Indeed Finch was a fierce advocate of the use of the gas and some members of the Committee, including Younghusband, had a real antipathy towards the clumsy apparatus and, by extension, to its chief advocate. There were other problems with Finch who, acting as a free spirit as was his nature, had embarked on a series of lectures about Everest in flagrant contravention of his agreement with the Mount Everest Committee who held the right to decide who would lecture and where. There followed an untidy scuffle between the committee and Finch which ended in his backing down, but certain members did not feel kindly towards him. Besides, he wore his hair long, and that told them something about his attitude. To their shame the Committee members dithered on the subject of Finch for many months but in the end his name was dropped.
The Committee had already chosen Odell to be one of the new men. He had a great deal of Alpine experience and was deemed to be a strong team player, having been on the Oxford University Arctic expeditions of 1921 and 1923. Benthley Beetham, a schoolmaster from County Durham, had been Somervell’s regular climbing partner in the Alps and his record fully justified his inclusion. John de Hazard, also a fine alpinist, was a friend of Morshead and had served in India as a sapper. Other new recruits were Edward Shebbeare of the Indian Forest Service, who was appointed transport officer under Geoffrey Bruce, and Maj. Richard Hingston as medical officer.
Abraham was good to his word and put Sandy’s name forward in a letter to Meade, on 10 October 1923: ‘You will probably remember our talks about Everest etc at Jerwalt last June. There is a young friend of mine, A C Irvine, who is very anxious to go out next year. He is an ideal chap for the job & if, as I understand, you are on the Selection Committee I have every faith in recommending him.’ He goes on to say that he knows Odell will be doing everything he can to include Sandy ‘as they went through the real stiff work of the recent Spitsbergen expedition together.’ He concludes: ‘Of course this is a purely personal matter, but as you do not know Irvine, I felt that a note of this kind might be useful. He is up again at Oxford now, where on the athletic side he is exceptional – a good tempered youngster of wonderful physique.’ Such a ringing endorsement of Sandy’s enthusiasm and talent did not go unnoticed and Meade forwarded the letter to Hinks, noting: ‘I can only say that I know and like what I have seen of Abraham and that his opinion carries weight with me as far as it goes (as you know it does not go as far as India)’. Meade’s opinion may not have gone as far as India but it went as far as the Mount Everest Committee.
The choice of Sandy as the final and youngest member of the climbing party was defended on the grounds that the committee believed they needed a young, strong man to complement the skills of the older and more experienced climbers. He had an ally on the selection panel in Tom Longstaff who spoke up for him. After the decision was taken to issue the invitation Mallory wrote to his friend, Geoffrey Young: ‘Irvine represents our attempt to get one superman, though lack of experience is against him.’ Even so it was always considered a contentious choice and the committee and General Bruce went to some length to defend their decision to expose someone ‘so young’ to the rigours of Tibetan travel and to the dangers of high altitude mountaineering. One should not forget, in all this, Sandy’s own passionate enthusiasm for the venture. If he was inexperienced and young he was nevertheless utterly dedicated to the expedition and determined to be included and to perform well. It was inconceivable to him from the outset that he would not be one of the climbers tackling the summit. This might be put down to youthful arrogance and enthusiasm but it was far more deep seated than that. For Sandy the only possible outcome of any race was to win. This was as true in the rest of his life as it was in his rowing. Following the success of the Spitsbergen expedition he was desperately keen to pursue further expeditions; he had become completely captured by the excitement and adventure which such ventures afforded. The Everest expedition was to be the fulfilment of all his ambitions and he threw himself into the project with all the energy at his disposal. Sandy was built for bravery and once focused on a objective he pursued it relentlessly until it was conquered. Moreover Mount Everest presented him with the chance to prove himself, as much to himself as to anyone else. It was in his eyes the ultimate goal.
One of the considerations he had to take into account were the feelings of his family. Although technically ‘of age’, being twenty-one, he did not need the consent of his parents, he felt out of a sense of duty and love that their permission should be sought. He talked to them in early October and they asked for time to consider the request. In the past people have suggested that Willie and Lilian had no idea of the risks that their son would be taki
ng if he were to climb high on Mount Everest, but I feel it is disingenuous to suggest that they were naïve. I feel certain that Willie knew as well as any well-informed layman could what might be in store for Sandy. The experiences of the 1922 Everest expedition had been well documented and he would certainly have read of the difficulties the team had encountered, the problems and effects of climbing at altitude and of the accident in which the seven porters had died. The fact that both he and Lilian sought guidance through their prayers shows how very seriously they took the request. Lilian wrote later to Hugh:
Often I have thought of the future & prayed that this same God who has been my Guide and Friend all my life and on whom I have relied in all our decisions, will be my children’s Guide and Friend too. That is why I have never had any regrets or questionings about the right or wrong of letting Sandy go up Everest – it must be the answer to our prayers when we prayed earnestly about our decision to give him permission.
They gave him their blessing and he pursued his application with even greater vigour.
On 24 October 1923 Sandy received an invitation from the Mount Everest Committee to join the 1924 expedition. The letter arrived at a time of unprecedented emotional turmoil in Sandy’s life. On 19 October he received the news that Dick Summers had proposed to and been accepted by Evelyn. The announcement came like a bolt out of the blue and completely knocked him off his stride. He had been totally unprepared for this development, having only recently talked at length with Dick about his relationship with the Danish girl, Thyra. The cocktail of emotions that coursed through his veins was so intoxicating that he gave vent to his feelings in a series of letters to Dick and Evelyn that give some indication of just how deeply he felt the shock and dismay at the announcement. He felt betrayed and jealous. Why had his best friend not confided in him his plans for the engagement? How could his beloved sister, of whom he thought the world, have betrayed his trust? Evelyn had been his friend, his playmate and suddenly he was forced to regard her as a woman and to admit she had a life of her own. He didn’t like it. Such irrational, immature but completely comprehensible thoughts were spinning round in his head when the wrote to Dick that evening in a state of drunkeness: ‘If I am construing your letter correctly and there seems only one construction to put on it, I think you are a bloody fool. There is only one possible thing to be said for it, and that is that I would get another opportunity to wear my Top Hat that I paid £1.10.6 for.’ He was certain that neither Willie nor HS would hear of the engagement and that all his brothers would be equally outraged. Dick, after all, had been around since 1917 and it had never crossed any of their minds that he would ever be anything more to anyone in the family than Sandy’s best friend. Besides, he was only twenty one and had still two years of study left. No, it was unthinkable! ‘I may have sobered down sufficiently by Sunday to be really serious with you, but at the moment I am walking metaphorically on air – not an advert. for Eno Epsum or ANDREW his liver salts. Have a good night’s sleep, a cold bath, read your morning paper and think twice, then again, and you will be nearer the mark. Spheroids to you, Sandy.’ The allusion to walking on air is a reference to the fact that he was waiting to hear whether his name had been accepted by the Mount Everest Committee and I am sure this contributed to his heightened sense of emotion.
The next day he had sobered up and wrote a poignant and honest letter to Evelyn in which he poured out all his thoughts and anxieties.
Sorry if I appeared a bit blunt on the phone, but I was quite bowled over by Dick’s letter. I suppose I should congratulate you - but I think it is Dick that needs the congratulations more than you. …I must admit I don’t feel at all happy. I’m probably in a pessimistic mood but there it is. I like Dick beyond words but – Oh I can’t say it all in a letter – what it comes to is that he needs changing completely and even then he wouldn’t be half good enough… Oh E, it’s all very upsetting. I better not say more, I may only spoil your pleasure. I know Dick is everything that could be desired – I like him more than any man I’ve every met – there isn’t a kinder or more generous soul in all the world but you’ll have to make a real man of him before I’ll feel really happy about it.
That was one of the fundamental problems for Sandy: Dick was not in his opinion a real man. The early loss of his mother had left him anxious and insecure, emotionally weak where the Irvines were strong. Sandy feared that it would be Evelyn’s role in the marriage to wear the pants. In a way he was right but what he failed to appreciate was that she knew what she was taking on.
Sandy could only fret that his sister was being ‘wasted’ on his friend. He wrote: ‘There is only one sister in this family & we can’t afford any experiments with her. I suppose I shouldn’t interfere in other people’s business but a brother cares more for a sister than all the other brothers put together & I frankly am not happy about it yet – I always pictured someone totally different – a man – a real rough rider who really knew what life was.’ Was he not modelling his ideal man for her on himself? I strongly suspect he was, in which case he would have been pushed ever to find someone to live up to his expectations. Not only did Sandy feel betrayed, rightly or wrongly, by Dick and Evelyn’s engagement, but perhaps more significantly he feared that Evelyn had been chosen as second best after Dick’s friendship with Thyra, had ended so abruptly. His own relationship with Evelyn had become somewhat strained after the affair with Marjory had developed. Perhaps he saw now that the delicious naughtiness of the affair was but temporal and Evelyn had found real love, something which had eluded him in his life. Possibly also his outspoken dismay had something to do with his embarrassment at the fact that his indiscretion compromized her in her future father-in-law’s eyes.
A week or so later he wrote back to Dick a rather more measured if equally emotional letter:
My dear Dick, If you are both the same next year there is no objection in the world. I was quite naturally very bowled over when I heard – My first thoughts were naturally I think a) you were too young to think of marrying b) E had not met enough men as she has always been tied to Mothers apron strings. You seemed to have shown no outward signs ever + E had always laughed at the idea as ridiculous when I had suggested it – so I thought it might be a case of ‘I must marry someone soon’.
He went on to agonize over the fact that he would lose them both as absolute friends and worried that Dick’s money would spoil Evelyn although he did admit that it hadn’t spoiled Dick in his opinion.
Dick I hope you don’t mind my saying all this – it may sound as if I’ve got a grudge against you – well since the first game of Fives at Salop [Shrewsbury] I’ve never had a better friend in the world! To think you ever doubted my friendship – perhaps it sounded like it in my letter but I thought you knew me better than that. I never in my life will be able to repay you for all your kindness & the good times you have given me. If you doubt my friendship after all that you make me out one of the most degraded bounders that ever bounded. I’m always your best & truest friend though there may have been times when I haven’t shown it outwardly.
He signed off: ‘Subject to Medical Examination I have been finally accepted so I’m again walking on metaphorical air.’ And then in a thoroughly schoolboy manner he concludes the letter with a postscript that has always caused a very wry smile when used by anyone in the family: ‘I haven’t time to read this through again so forgive any errors of punctuation, alliteration or constipation.’
Despite the ending, this letter is written from the heart and gives an unequivocal and resounding endorsement of the importance he attached to friendship and family. The dilemma for Sandy was that friendship and family met in this engagement and it is that which threw him so badly off course. The thought of losing both his best friend and his sister hurt him more than he could handle: he would never again have access to their undivided affections. If ever there was a revealing moment to show Sandy’s vulnerable side it is here. He felt himself being eased out of the picture by the two
people he cared for most in the world and the panic that that potential loss instilled in him was immense. Over the week between the two letters he wrote to Dick he had rationalized it in his mind, but I think this episode gives a once only glance into his heart, into the insecure soul that dwelled within. The letters from Sandy caused both Evelyn and Dick terrible hurt. Relations were already strained in view of the Marjory affair and to have Sandy expressing his opinion so directly and openly both confused and upset them. They were quite unaware that their engagement would cause him so much pain and distress. But clearly it did and it cast a shadow over his relationship with Evelyn, which lasted almost up until the time he sailed for India. With Dick I don’t think he ever had a complete rapprochement.
With this shattering experience behind him, Sandy turned his attentions to his other obligations. First there was the forthcoming Everest expedition, then there was the small matter of his college work and, finally, he had committed himself to coaching the Trial VIIIs in preparation for the 1924 Boat Race. It is absolutely in character that Sandy should not allow a new and alluring opportunity to divert him from what he considered to be his duties and he threw himself into the coaching with his usual gusto. In a manner typical of his empirical attitude towards life, he was frequently to be seen pedalling up and down the towpath along the Isis on a tricycle. A somewhat unusual method of transport for someone as athletic as Sandy was explained by Patrick Johnson, a friend from Merton, in a letter to Bill Summers in 1986. ‘This saved the trouble of getting on to and off the bicycle; when in motion, Sandy kept one wheel off the ground.’ This somewhat eccentric behaviour did not escape the notice of the local press who were rather more bemused by it than his friends, who were used to Sandy’s foibles.
Fearless on Everest: The Quest for Sandy Irvine Page 15
