From Ice Floes to Battlefields

by Anne Strathie

  On 3 September 1918 Cheetham’s Endurance shipmate Frank Wild and other members of the NEC expedition entered the unoccupied German weather station on Spitsbergen, dismantled the wireless equipment and ran the Union Jack up the flagstaff.

  During his time on Spitsbergen Ponting took hundreds of photographs, including of the captured wireless station, NEC’s camps and miners working coal, Salisbury-Jones and other expedition members and Swedish mining operations. While Spitsbergen’s summer landscape had little of Antarctica’s pristine beauty, Ponting’s aim was not to delight the eye but to show potential investors the extent of the island’s mineral seams and ice-free inlets from which coal could be shipped to Britain and elsewhere.

  By September Ponting, Salisbury-Jones, Maples, Craig, Noel Davis and several other expedition members were preparing to return to London. Wild, McIlroy, Yorkshire miner Bertram Mangham and a team of miners would stay behind to build a new base, Davis Camp (named for Frederick Davis), mine and prospect for coal and other minerals and police NEC’s other claims.

  The expedition had left Britain quietly but by early October articles began appearing in The Times and other newspapers about Spitsbergen’s ‘enormous’ coal and iron deposits.11 From 8 October The Financier (‘Britain’s oldest financial daily’) ran a heavily advertised series of eleven articles on Spitsbergen written by ‘The Financier’s Special Correspondent with the Shackleton Expedition (the only writer who accompanied the Expedition)’.12 The tone of the articles was optimistic and patriotic:

  A grave danger has been averted by the spirited action of a British Company – namely, the Northern Exploration Company – with the moral and material support of the British Government. The danger was that Germany might gain control of Spitsbergen, oust British interests, which greatly preponderate there, maintain a naval, aerial and coaling station to dominate Northern Europe as Heligoland dominates the North Sea highway to the Baltic and provide her with such mineral deposits which might compensate her for disappointments elsewhere … If Germany were in control, no selected victim would be safe from her treachery and ruthlessness. Scandinavia would be between the hammer and the anvil …

  The articles described the challenges encountered by Salisbury-Jones and his companions, including claim-jumping and the Ella’s collision with an uncharted reef. A wealth of statistics and economic data underpinned NEC’s demands that the British government should act to secure Spitsbergen’s mineral wealth for Britain. According to one of the articles, expedition members had returned to London ‘in the highest spirits, gratified beyond measure by the brilliant success of [their] mission and assured that the mineral riches of Spitsbergen now available for exploitation by British interests far exceeded [their] most sanguine hopes’.

  Investors and the financial community were not alone in being interested in Spitsbergen. By mid-October Arthur Spinks, secretary of the Royal Geographic Society, had confirmed with explorer Sir Martin Conway (also the first director of the new Imperial War Museum) that 9 December would be a suitable date for him to present his paper ‘The Political History of Spitsbergen’ to RGS members.13 Spinks then contacted Shackleton (as leader of NEC’s recent expedition) and William Speirs Bruce (on behalf of the Scottish Spitsbergen Syndicate) inviting them to attend and give an overview of latest developments on Spitsbergen. When Spinks forwarded advance copies of Sir Martin’s paper to Shackleton and Bruce he made it clear that they should address geographical rather than ‘purely financial or commercial questions’.14

  On 9 November The Sphere published a two-page article on Spitsbergen illustrated by an artist’s impression of a bird’s eye view of Spitsbergen and four of Ponting’s photographs.15 A map showed that Spitsbergen was approximately 400 miles from Tromsø, 500 from Murmansk, 1,200 from Aberdeen and Archangel and less than 2,000 from London.

  The Financier’s final article, published on 12 November (the day after the Armistice on the Western Front came into effect), concluded that Spitsbergen’s mineral wealth and ‘unparalleled combination of advantages’ could secure Britain’s future economic prosperity. Elsewhere in the paper, articles warned of the ‘perfidious methods’ which Germany might employ to regain her pre-war industrial dominance of Europe.

  On 17 November Ponting wrote to Alfred Hinks about the planned RGS presentation:

  Mr F.W. Salisbury-Jones … tells me that Sir Martin Conway is to give a Lecture on Spitsbergen before the R.G.S. … I have been asked by Mr Salisbury-Jones to read a paper which I am preparing, and to show a series of lantern slides and moving picture films afterwards which will which will illustrate something of the operations of the Expedition …

  Ponting asked whether Sir Martin’s address could be postponed to allow him time to prepare his ‘Kinema Films’ for display. Hinks responded that the date was fixed and that Ponting’s presentation should last for no more than twenty minutes.

  In late November Ponting placed an advertisement in the Financial Times for a new double bill of his films at the Philharmonic Hall. Over the past four years he had publicised showings of his Antarctic films at the same venue through small advertisements in The Times, which featured drawings of Adelie penguins, but his new advertisement was dominated by the word ‘SPITSBERGEN’. Now audiences could enjoy a double bill of ‘The Industrial Activities in Spitsbergen’ and Ponting’s ‘World-famous Kinematic Lecture’ on Scott’s expedition – and see for themselves the contrast between two polar regions.

  During the first week of December Alfred Hinks learned that Shackleton’s lack of response to his letters was due to his being in north Russia. He and Ponting were by now in regular correspondence about the form Ponting’s presentation should take. Hicks had suggested twenty minutes’ duration; Ponting wanted thirty minutes. Ponting was keen to show moving images; Hicks wanted a few still pictures to be interspersed within what was a ‘contribution to the discussion’, not a separate paper. Ponting told Hicks that, although he felt it his duty to ‘let people know what Spitsbergen really is’, he would ‘deal with the Expedition … not touching in any way on the affairs of the Company’.

  On Saturday, 7 December The Financier published a follow-up article on Spitsbergen. Alongside the main text was a ‘Testimony’ from Ponting, which included details of his forthcoming RGS presentation and his Philharmonic Hall film showings. Ponting had never, in all his travels, ‘seen such geological wonders, and such vast mineral resources’. He confirmed that he had, since returning from Spitsbergen, invested a large part of his life-time savings in NEC shares, which he had purchased on the open market and intended to retain as a long-term investment.

  On Tuesday, 10 December The Times ran a short report on the previous evening’s proceedings at the RGS, accompanied by summaries of Sir Martin Conway’s and Ponting’s contributions.

  Two days later Ponting received a letter from Hinks suggesting that, despite Ponting’s earlier assurances, parts of his presentation appeared to have been ‘extracts from something which seemed to be an advertising pamphlet’ for NEC. Ponting’s written response to Hinks’ ‘totally unwarranted statements’ was long, detailed and indignant – as was that of NEC company secretary Maples to Hinks’ suggestions that Ponting’s presentation amounted to an ‘abuse of hospitality’ by both Ponting and the company.

  Ponting and Maples asked Hinks to withdraw his remarks. When he declined to do so Ponting wrote at length to the RGS president, then to his lawyers, who advised Hinks that his letters to Ponting ‘went very near libel’.

  During early 1919 Ponting and Maples made their peace with Hinks and the RGS Council, after it was agreed that there had been misunderstandings on both sides and that Ponting had not deliberately tried to ‘evade the rules of the Society’.

  By then the legal status of Spitsbergen’s sovereignty had been added to the agenda for discussion during the Peace Conference at Versailles.

  In late September 1918, as Ponting was completing his assignment on Spitsbergen, Tryggve Gran was heading for Arctic waters
. Gran was on a troopship sailing from Dundee to Archangel, where his Royal Flying Corps unit would be supporting Allied ground troops. During the voyage Gran and others suddenly began to feel ill:

  the Spanish Flu appeared and took the character of an epidemic. I … lay for days in a high fever. Sometimes I noticed that the boat had stopped for a moment and on asking what was the matter I was told that it was just a soldier who was being buried at sea.

  But by the time the ship reached Archangel Gran had recovered and was ready for duty:

  For almost three months the town had been in the possession of the allies; the Bolshies had withdrawn up the Dvina and down the railway line towards Vologna. English naval seaplanes had played a great part. They had flown over the town and thrown down pamphlets to good effect and before anybody knew it the Bolsheviks had taken to boats and went up the river … on the other side of the Dvina lay the village of Bacaritza, which is the terminus for the railway from Petrograd. Enormous stores of everything imaginable was to be found here … It was already late in the season and it was clear to all that any decent flying that year would hardly be practicable. Our plan therefore was to make everything ready for the campaign in the Spring [1919].

  In late October temperatures suddenly dropped and the Dvina began to freeze over. When Gran’s old leg wound began troubling him he went to see the RFC doctor, who advised him to apply for a transfer to a warmer climate.16

  On 8 November 1918 Gran’s tour of duty in north Russia came to an end. When his ship arrived in Norway on ‘a wonderful clear night when the north light flamed on a dark blue heaven’ a Norwegian naval officer came aboard and announced that an Armistice would be coming into effect on the Western Front on 11 November.

  Gran could hardly take the news in: ‘An extraordinary feeling poured over me and for a long time I remained on deck staring out in the night towards the flaming sky.’

  At 11 a.m. on 11 November 1918, all over Britain, church bells pealed, flags were waved and people cheered. Now there would be no need to dread the arrival of a telegram or scan lists in newspapers for familiar names. Finally, on the Western Front at least, the war was ‘over by Christmas’.

  When peace came, Edward Atkinson was no fit state to join in the celebrations. He had returned from France with a DSO to his credit and joined a brand-new ship, HMS Glatton.17 On 16 September, before the Glatton put out from Dover on her maiden voyage, there was an explosion on board.18 As fire spread fore and aft, cutting off parts of the ship, it was feared that the ship might completely blow up at any moment. Most of the ship’s officers had been killed or seriously injured in the initial explosion. Atkinson, who had been working in his cabin, was knocked out by the first explosion and came to in a cabin which was now full of thick smoke and flames. As he staggered along the corridor to try to find a ladder to the upper decks, he passed several dead or unconscious colleagues. After locating the only intact ladder he carried two unconscious men up to safety.

  While Atkinson was bringing a third man up another explosion blinded him and drove a piece of metal into his leg at such an angle that he was pinned to the ladder. Atkinson extracted the piece of metal and, feeling his way along, managed to place the man he was carrying on the upper deck. Still unable to see, he made his way back down the ladder, felt his way along the corridor, where he found two more unconscious colleagues. After carrying them both to relative safety he collapsed completely on the upper deck.

  When Atkinson was found later, he was still semi-conscious but so badly wounded and burned that his fellow doctors had despaired of saving him. But by early October, badly scarred on his face and body and minus an eye, Atkinson was able to scribble a brief pencil note to Cherry-Garrard from Chatham’s naval hospital. He thanked his friend for his good wishes and assured him, ‘I hope to be out of here pretty soon if all goes well and shall try to see you.’ 19

  By November Atkinson had completed a prescribed period of recuperation in Devon and been fitted with an artificial eye. With time on his hands, he had been able to give thought as to how Cherry-Garrard might deal with a difficult aspect of his narrative of the expedition:20

  I think you may make trouble with Meares by insisting that we know his orders but have no proof in writing of them. You and I know that he disobeyed orders. I thought unwillingly then that he was flying the white feather and after what I have heard of his conduct in France I know that he was … if you make a statement to that effect and if it was challenged, you would have to substantiate it in writing … The Owner [Scott] unfortunately never kept copies of his orders.21

  There was also the issue of Teddy Evans’ planned early departure from the expedition and the scurvy which had resulted in his sledging party’s late return from the barrier. But Cherry was still some way from having a draft manuscript which he could show to Lyons and the publications committee.

  Atkinson, having missed the final months of the war, was keen to find an alternative to returning to work in a naval laboratory: 22

  Strictly between ourselves what would you think of flying the South American side of the Antarctic … I am willing … Don’t let anyone else know.

  … the War Office has asked for my services in Russia and if it is not too late I have said I am willing. Please say nothing to anyone about this as nothing is settled at present. I thought I would not go at first but I can clearly see the hand of the Hun behind the whole thing.

  In early 1919 Atkinson joined the hospital ship Lord Morton, an 1880s’ paddle-steamer which had been acquired by the navy in 1918 specifically for the north Russia campaign. When Atkinson arrived, he found that Shackleton and Endurance veterans Lionel Hussey, Frank Worsley and Joseph Stenhouse had been there since late October 1918. Shackleton, who was in charge of ‘Arctic Equipment and Transport’, had been pleased to find two of his expedition doctors, Eric Marshall (Nimrod) and Alexander Macklin (Endurance), already there. Since arriving, Macklin had been dealing with outbreaks of scurvy, smallpox, typhus, typhoid and influenza.23

  When Macklin heard Atkinson discussing scurvy with other officers he tried get him to admit that the South Pole party had contracted scurvy before dying. Atkinson had studied the causes and effects of scurvy before going to Antarctica, but had not carried out post-mortems on Scott, Wilson and Bowers. He admitted freely that Teddy Evans had suffered from scurvy but confirmed that Scott had insisted that seal meat and liver and other scorbutics were included in meals and marching rations to guard against the disease.24

  Terra Nova carpenter Frankie Davies was also now based in north Russia, organising landings and arranging repairs for ships operating on the White Sea and Dvina River. John Mather, now a temporary lieutenant-commander, had transferred to the Royal Engineers to serve in north Russia. He had initially been based at Murmansk, but transferred to a fleet operating on the Dvina River and on Lake Onega, where he had been working with Stenhouse.25 It seemed that Scott’s and Shackleton’s men could work together when the need arose.

  By spring 1919 Atkinson was back at Chatham Naval Barracks, from where he wrote to Cherry-Garrard:26

  I had to go away for some trials and did not get back until last night. Until they send me definitely to Greenwich I am afraid there is no chance of my getting a weekend … My experience of the Spitsbergen affairs coupled with that of Campbell was not good. Geographical reports were misleading and I quit with luck getting the amounts I had put in through my lawyers.27

  Atkinson was, it seemed, less enthusiastic than Ponting and others about speculating on the potential future value of Spitsbergen’s minerals.

  Campbell had arrived in north Russia in July 1918 and been transferred to shore duties the following month. He had spent the previous few months in command of a brand-new flagship, HMS Warwick, on which he had taken part in a raid on Germany’s U-boat base in Zeebrugge, Belgium. The operation had not been entirely successful, following a change of wind direction which, on two successive days, had blown away the smoke cover set up for HMS Warwick and some
seventy other ships and left them exposed to enemy fire from shore and sea. There had been heavy losses during the action. HMS Warwick was damaged by a mine, but was responsible for ramming and sinking a U-boat; Campbell was mentioned in dispatches and received a bar to his DSO.

  When Campbell returned to England in early 1919 he was called to give evidence at a long-delayed enquiry into the Royal Naval Division’s ‘Antwerp affair’. He also received an OBE for serving ‘with distinction both at sea and on shore at Murmansk’ and the Croix de Guerre for his services in the Channel Fleet.

  Notes

  Information on Shackleton is from Smith, Shackleton: By Endurance We Conquer, Huntford, Shackleton, and newspaper reports; information on Spitsbergen and NEC is from Kruse, Frozen Assets, and Barr et al., Gold, or I’m a Dutchman; correspondence relating to Ponting’s dispute with the Royal Geographical Society is in the RGS archives (RGS/CB8/Conway).

  1. The Bolsheviks’ nickname is taken from the colour of the Communist flag; some but not all ‘Whites’ supported the return of the Tsar.

  2. Dundee Evening Telegraph, 17 April 1911.

  3. This is the German station where Campbell learned about the outbreak of war in 1914.