My Story – Adrian Almond
Prompted by Chris Edwards’ report, I have my personal story of the event.
My last sledging day was a day out round Bristly Peaks from the depot on the Fleming Glacier. It was a lovely day, not perfect, a little too much wind, but great surfaces. The next day FAQ, pilot Bert, flew us to Adelaide with the 5 remaining dogs from the 2 teams.
When we were told that the dogs were to be shot at the close of the journey my initial reaction was to say: “Someone else can do that”. The arrangement that we were told on a sched was that if we did not do our own then someone would came out with the plane and do it in situ. The implication, at least, in the conversation was that it would be Steve Wormald.
Continued From Home Page
When I thought more about it I decided that pushing it onto his shoulders was cowardly and, furthermore, whether it were him or some other, it was a friend I would be lumbering with a dreadful task. I also worried that, whatever logic would say, deep in my emotions I might hold that person responsible for evermore and thereby ruin a good friendship. Having done it myself the perennial blame has always lain, in my mind, on R. Laws who announced the end of Stonington and dogs to us in such a cowardly manner.
My travelling companion, GA, Simon Hobbs came to the same conclusion about doing it himself. I hadn’t realised that only few of us made this choice until I read Chris’s report today; it was not a subject of much conversation when back on base or on the ship north.
The dreadful work itself went without a hitch. We constructed a snow-wall of large blocks to hide from the sight of the teams the actual killings. It also provided a pit into which the carcasses were dumped. Each condemned dog was brought, I cannot say “led” as they were straining the leash to find out what was going on behind the wall… so ironic but so typical, such enthusiasm to the end.
Without reading reams of glacio-paper, what I have gathered about the speed of the Fleming, which has accelerated noticeably since the demise of the Wordie* Ice Shelf, means that their remains will have entered the ocean some years ago, thereby completing the cycle by feeding the various creatures which feed the seals which fed the dogs, unlike the mineral oil pollution from their successors as means of power which will remain pollution.
To Chris, in particular, I can understand your internal hurt. We suffered PTSD, although that term was not invented until some years later. Although I don’t recall having nightmares, for over 20 years there were times when, in a quiet moment, particularly if I were feeling down about something totally unrelated, I would just mentally slide back to that event and end up in tears. I also had doubts about my trustworthiness if asked to do something particularly vital for a friend; guilt, I suppose. It made me sympathetic to the veterans from The Falklands, and other war zones.
Adrian Almond – Geophysicist, Stonington 1973 and 1974