Fearless on Everest: The Quest for Sandy Irvine Page 5
The impact of the war had a dislocating effect on the school in that boys left at odd times to join up and the casualty lists marked the end of many promising lives. For Sandy the reality of the war came home when Hugh was enlisted in 1917. He joined the Royal Artillery and spent three months training near Exeter before he went out to fight in France. In 1918 a German high explosive shell landed in a gas dump close to where he was standing. The shells didn’t explode but they burst and he and a lot of other soldiers were splattered with liquid mustard gas. The gas got on the collar of his uniform and it soaked through the cloth burning the skin on the back of his neck badly. He had an open wound all down his back which never really healed and he was troubled by it for the rest of his life. My father once told me that Hugh had to have the wound dressed twice a day by a nurse until he died. A few weeks after Hugh was injured, Sandy’s cousin Edward was killed at Arras. His body was never recovered and he was one of the half a million dead of the Great War to have no known grave. He is commemorated on panel one of the Arras Memorial. He was a twenty-year old medical student at Aberdeen University. The family felt the loss of this gentle young man.
Sandy himself was too young to enlist but an engineering problem occupied him for the greater part of the autumn of 1917. His interest in war machinery was probably sparked in part by Baker who, assisted by Higgins, the school laboratory steward, is credited with inventing a very early form of delayed-action bomb – an invention intended to spare lives but to damage property. At any rate, Baker did not discourage Sandy although the hours he spent in the labs must have been to the detriment of his schoolwork.
Shrewsbury School had acquired a German machine gun which had been captured by the British. History does not relate how it was that the gun came to be at the school, but it became the focus of Sandy’s attention for a matter of many weeks. He had heard that the equivalent British weapon had suffered some considerable numbers of very awkward stoppages. Guns would jam and the result was that as much as half the machine gun force could be out of commission at any one time. Sandy was given permission, presumably by Baker, to strip the gun down and study its mechanics. He dismantled it entirely in the school workshops and spent endless hours making minute observations about the mechanisms. It is an example of his extraordinary ability to focus on a problem and worry at it like a terrier with a rat until he found an explanation or came up with a solution. What he in fact established and what he suggested was that the different manufacturers of the ammunition were making their ammunition to a slightly different size. This was not necessarily because they intended to but because in making 10 million rounds or 100 million rounds the dies that made the bullet cases would distend. If the case for the bullet was too big it became a tight fit in the gun and the result would be a stoppage. Whether or not this find was ever passed on to the War Office is not known but it encouraged him to go on and find solutions to other problems concerned with the machinery of war.
Following his work on the German machine gun, Sandy turned his attention to aeroplanes, having heard from Hugh of some of the problems experienced by the Royal Flying Corps. He invented, apparently from scratch, an interrupter gear which would permit a machine gun to fire through the propeller without making holes in it. A logical and simple solution to a real problem. He also designed a gyroscopic stabilizer for aircraft and caused a small stir by sending off beautifully worked up designs for these two inventions to the War Office in London. The War Office had been sent many proposals during the course of the war but it was most unusual for such an accomplished design to be submitted by a fifteen-year-old school boy. Unfortunately both had been anticipated in essence by the British inventor, Sir Hiram Maxim but Sandy received most warm congratulations from the authorities and instructions to go on trying. His ability to find solutions to problems was so wholly accepted within the family that no one considered his achievements as particularly remarkable. When later a lot of fuss was made about his redesigning an oxygen system for the 1924 Mount Everest expedition no one was surprised that he advocated a complete rebuild of a system which had itself been designed by some of the most respected brains in the Flying Corps.
Despite the war family life continued in very much the same way as it had done prior to 1914. Willie, at forty, did not enlist but he became an officer in the Birkenhead volunteer force and was awarded the rank of captain in recognition of his contribution. In their usual generous and hospitable spirit, the Irvine family invited Dick Summers to join them on their family holiday in Summer 1917. Thereafter he became a regular visitor and spent holidays with them every year until 1923. The family was very kind to him and he was regarded quite quickly as simply another son or brother. He joined in all activities with pleasure and had the added attraction of having access to a motor car which he would bring along, thus giving them all even greater freedom than they found on their bicycles.
During the first summer term that Sandy was at Shrewsbury, 1917, in keeping with tradition, new boys were divided between the two sports of rowing and cricket. To qualify for membership of the Boat Club Sandy had to swim four lengths of the baths in rowing kit. Those who elected to try their hand at rowing and had passed the swimming test, as Sandy did, would then be put into a tub with a boy of roughly matching size. A tub pair is a sort of aristocratic rowing boat, but with two single oars only, one for each boy seated one behind the other, and a seat at the stern with elaborate curly metalwork and, sometimes, a cushion, on which would be seated an older boy who would steer, coach and assess the potential and merits of the new recruits. As Sandy looked to have good potential, he was quickly picked up by the Captain of Boats and his rowing career was underway. As well as tubbing Sandy was soon rowing in a single seat sculling boat, a narrow racing boat with a pair of sculls (oars) and a balance problem. Soon he was rowing two hours a day five days a week. On Thursday afternoons there was Officer Training Corps activity which interfered with his rowing schedule and on Sunday the Lord’s Day was strictly observed with two services at Chapel and a Divinity lesson in the afternoon.
From the tub Sandy rapidly graduated to the house IV, a rowing boat with four fixed seats and four single oars. The main event for the house IV was the Bumpers or Bumps as it is now more commonly known. This was a fiercely contested inter-house event which was rowed towards the end of the summer term. By the summer of 1918 Sandy had come to Kitch’s attention and he was rowing in the school’s Second VIII. In February 1919 he once again took part in the Challenge Oars, the main house race run on a knock-out basis. It was rowed over a distance of 1 mile and 50 yards from Greyfriars Bridge to the Priory Wall on the River Severn below the school. The event gave Kitch a key opportunity to have a good look at the boys’ performance and from that he could work out a rough cut for the First VIII. Sandy impressed him and he was selected amongst the other probable candidates for the First VIII. The training for the eights began in March and continued in earnest after the Easter holidays. It needed to, for at Henley they were up against fierce competition, not only from other schools but also from the Oxford and Cambridge Colleges. The school boys were rowing against men at least two and a half years their senior and considerably heavier and stronger.
Henley Royal Regatta was established in 1839 after the town fathers observed that races had been held on the river attracting a lively interest. They felt that an annual regatta ‘under judicious and respectable management’ would be of wide appeal. It is still held annually at the beginning of July and forms an essential part of the British summer calendar alongside Ascot and Wimbledon. By the early twentieth century the character of the Regatta was well established. Henley’s atmosphere is undoubtedly unique and an early twentieth century description of ‘blue skies, pink champagne, the razzle-dazzle of the parasol’ is as accurate today as it was in Edwardian England. There were bands playing, oarsmen young and old in their brightly coloured blazers displaying their club loyalty, laughing, talking, debating, and reminiscing. Henley is a veritable pageant but for a
provincial school whose only experience of competitive rowing was on the upper Severn in front of other boys and a few proud parents, it must have seemed extraordinarily exotic and daunting in equal measure.
The regatta had been cancelled during the First World War and in 1919 it was decided that the first post-war regatta should be dedicated to those who lost their lives in the fighting. It was thus known as the Peace Regatta and marked a new and optimistic beginning in the history of Henley.
The Shrewsbury First VIII was entered for the Elsenham Cup, that year’s equivalent of the Ladies’ Plate and open as usual to both schools and Oxbridge colleges. Sandy was rowing at 4, in the ‘engine room’ of the boat, the power house for the stronger boys. Of the other crew members exceptional boys who went on to compete in university and college boats sometimes against Sandy, were M. H. Ellis at Stroke, W. F. Smith at Bow and W. F. Godden at no. 7.
Seasoned rowers tell me that the pressure of rowing at Henley can never be overestimated. Sitting in the boat at the starting line waiting for the start (which to this day is by verbal command) can be a daunting experience. From the water the scene is two lines of white piles marching into the distance marking the course; on either side of these spectators, boats and trees, the valley sides seeming to close in on the river and then, so close, the opposing crew. ‘What you never do at the start,’ Richard Owen told me, ‘is to turn round and look up the course!’
Kitch knew exactly what to expect from Henley and had explained, lectured, briefed the boys on what they would encounter. His hard work paid dividends and the crew was confident and performed magnificently. In their first race, the sixth heat of the Elsenham Cup, Shrewsbury defeated Pembroke College Cambridge; in the eighth they rowed against and beat Magdalen College Oxford ‘in one of the finest races of the Regatta’. Shrewsbury led at the start and were half a length up at the quarter-mile but Magdalen drew inexorably up until they were neck and neck at the mile post. But Kitch’s coaching told and his crew proved strong finishers and they ran out here by three-quarters of a length. It was a particularly sweet victory for Sandy as his brother Hugh was rowing at 7 in the Magdalen boat. Shrewsbury’s semi-final heat was against Lady Margaret Boat Club and they won that with style by one and a half lengths. The other semi-final was also rowed between a school and university crew, Bedford against New College Oxford, Bedford winning by three lengths. The final was held on the Saturday and in a magnificent race Shrewsbury defeated their old rivals Bedford by one and a quarter lengths in 7 minutes and 21 seconds.
Sandy’s account of the race was written in a typically breathless letter to his mother the following day. On their return from Henley they had been welcomed as heroes by the whole school and he had had almost no sleep at all.
It was the most awful race I have ever rowed, because Bedford were such a colossally strong crew, though they had an ugly style but weight was all on their side. They are all (with the exception of their captain) the most dirty looking loathly crew I have ever known & so we were determined that it would be too disgraceful a thing to let them win. At the start we drew away as usual, but only by a canvas this time as they were very fast off the mark. They soon picked this up & were a canvass ahead at the ¼ mile. At the ½ mile they had ½ a length lead & at the ¾ mile they had a good ¾ lengths to spare & most of the crowd had given up all hope but as soon as we passed the ¾ mile signal post, stroke knew it was the moment to start work, until then we had been rowing a much slower stroke than they & so had plenty of reserve energy, & from just after the ¾ mile post stroke started to bring her in properly; we gave her 4 tens running & by the mile post were a good ½ length up on them (I’ve never worked so hard in all my life). When the mile telegraph went up, 1 went up before 2 & a colossal shout of Shrewsbury went up. We brought it in for the last ½ mile harder than I ever thought we could. We went up splendidly right to the end & Bedford crocked up altogether.’
‘It was a jolly good race for the spectators but not for us as we were all absolutely rowed out. We soon forgot our troubles in the congratulating crowd of Old Salopians & in getting the cup. We all get a topping little Victory Regatta Silver Medal (about the size of 5/- piece & twice as thick). The best of the lot is that we get our oars with the VIII & its victories printed on it.
‘We got home at 5.30 this morning (Sunday) & found every body up & at the station & got a terrible reception. (The school bell was broken in the effort) it was nearly as bad as Armistice Day.
Shrewsbury School First Eight 1919 (Sandy first row, far right)
This was Sandy’s first taste of victory and he loved it. For him sport was all about winning and this time he and the other eight men had done it spectacularly. He concludes the letter in a typically tongue-in-cheek way, ‘I’ve not had a wink of sleep since Friday night except a few minutes during the Sermon today, so I feel like bed.’ Sleeping during Chapel was considered a punishable offence and Lilian would have been aware of that as well as being shocked herself that he could have admitted to such a thing. But Sandy challenged her views and beliefs constantly and really she could not criticise her son in the light of his achievements.
For the school it was a triumph of the first order. The Elsenham Cup was proudly displayed at the school for the next forty-five years, until it was placed on permanent loan to the National Schools Regatta in 1964. Kitch was privately delighted and was showered with compliments for his coaching brilliance. The crew was loudly commended, both in the press, and by the staff and boys. W. Bridgeman, Chairman of the Governing Body of Shrewsbury School, wrote Kitch a letter on House of Commons notepaper in which he congratulated the Boat Club on ‘their conspicuous success at Henley’ and Kitch on his ‘admirable skill’ with which he ‘showed them the way to Victory’. Barely unable to conceal his intense satisfaction Bridgeman went on: ‘I beg you will convey our high sense of pride in the boys’ triumph to the members of the Boat Club and our satisfaction at the laudatory comments which were so freely poured upon the style and spirit of the crew.’
The success of 1919 led Kitch to believe that the Ladies Plate, the most coveted Cup at Henley for the public schools and colleges, was within their grasp. In the summer of 1920 he put together an even stronger crew than in 1919 which, once again, included Sandy who now rowed at 6. The promotion from 4 to 6 was a natural one, for as a rower becomes more experienced he generally moves towards the stern of the boat. In 1921 he was at 7 and so on bow side. Unsurprisingly Sandy got on well with Kitch. He had absolute faith in his coaching and his dearest wish was to help him fulfil his ambitions for the First VIII. The respect was mutual and Kitch later described Sandy as a ‘pillar of strength . . . cheerful, resourceful and indefatigable’. Kitch’s great talent was that he could bring out the best in a rower and Sandy responded to that. He knew, from his own experience, what it felt like to get it right: and he had the ability to convey this to his crews. He and Sandy had similar physiques and were both notably fair-haired, but they also shared the understanding of the difference between rowing hard and rowing flat out. Sandy had the confidence to do the latter, giving 110 per cent of himself in the full knowledge that he would not crack up. Such a boy is a great asset to a rowing crew.
Sandy rowing at number six for Shrewsbury (far boat) against Christ’s College, Cambridge, 1920. Christ’s won by half a length.
Henley 1920 was disappointing for Sandy after the success of 1919. Winning was the only acceptable outcome of a race for him.
We were a better boat slightly than last year but to be put up against a heavy crew of men, fresh, when we had rowed a race 5 hours before against a wind that you couldn’t bicycle against, to draw the worst station (supposed to be 1 to 1 ½ lengths slower) & then lead to half way & row a losing race the last half way, & row them to ½ length in the best time of the day over the course & considering that a fortnight before two of us had been in the Sanny & before that the boat had been broken up for 3 weeks with individual attacks of flu! I could lay any money that we could have beaten
Christ’s College given either station if we were fresh, but bad luck is bad luck & you can’t fight it.
As so often in his correspondence with her, arrangements occupy the first part of the letter, with instructions and explanations for Lilian. This was as much so later in his life and even when he was sailing for Everest he was still asking her to pick up the pieces he had left behind. At this point he was concerned with the forthcoming summer holidays.
I will send my trunk & suitcase by advance passenger on Tuesday 26th probably. My bicycle will have to be left here as the back peddling brake did break & coming adrift got mixed up in the 3 speed hub & locked the back wheel throwing me off & smashing all the gears. It will take a couple of months to repair probably.
I will want dirty whites (Tennis things) & shirts & socks washing & Pyjamas & New blue suit & dress cloths taking up to the Lakes, but those I could chose for myself on Thursday 5th & bring up with me on Friday 6th in the (Hudson or YOUR Standard if either is left) or on a Bean chassis & bring Dick with me or by train as far as I can (or on the Clyno?!!!) If you could leave me a small trunk I could chose all my things & bring them which would save you a lot of packing & looking out of clothes.’
Poor Lilian! She despaired of his untidiness and chaos in his personal affairs but there was little she could do at this stage to change him.
In amongst all these organisational arrangements he suddenly has a random thoughts about cars and instructs her: ‘Never get Dunlop tyres for your Standard get Goodyear or Firestone.’ Only after this does he get around to inviting her and Willie down to Shrewsbury for the Bumpers Races. Taking place after Henley as they did, the Bumpers Races were not always popular with the boys who had performed at Henley but Sandy, typically obsessed by rowing and, moreover, by his loyalty to his house, had been busy preparing for them with his usual gusto. As he had succeeded in crippling his own bike he was forced to borrow another in order to be able to race up and down the tow path coaching his house IVs. But this too was not without complications. ‘Since Henley I have had nothing but bad luck (& I haven’t broken a mirror)’ he admitted.