Paths of Glory

Hinks leaned across and placed a finger next to the second name on the list.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

“…ONE HUNDRED AND twelve…one hundred and thirteen…one hundred and fourteen.” Finch finally collapsed on the ground. George kept going, but he only managed another seven press-ups before he also gave up: 121, a personal record. He lay flat on the floor, raised his head and grinned at Finch, who always managed to bring out the best in him. Or was it the worst?

Dr. Lampton made an entry on his clipboard of the totals achieved by each of the twelve men, and noted that Mallory and Finch had been in the top five for every test, with very little to choose between them. He was already beginning to wonder what possible reason he could come up with to disqualify Finch, who clearly only had one rival as the fittest member of the group.

Lampton stood in the center of the gymnasium and asked the twelve men to gather around him. “I congratulate all of you,” he said, “on having come through the first part of the test unscathed, which means that you’re qualified to enter my torture chamber.” They all laughed. Lampton wondered how many of them would be laughing in an hour’s time. “Please follow me, gentlemen,” he said, and led them down a long brick corridor until he came to an unmarked door. He unlocked it and stepped into a large, square room, the like of which George had never seen.

“Gentlemen,” said Lampton, “you are now standing in a decompression chamber that was commissioned by the Admiralty during the war to test submariners’ ability to endure long periods of time below the surface of the ocean. The chamber has been modified to reproduce the conditions we believe you are likely to encounter when climbing Everest.

“Let me tell you about some of the equipment you see before you. The moving staircase in the center of the room is not unlike those you will be familiar with from traveling on the London Underground.” One or two of those present were loath to admit they had never traveled on the Underground, and remained silent. “There is, however, one significant difference,” continued Lampton. “Our moving staircase is not intended to assist you; on the contrary, it is there to resist you. While it is moving downward, you will be climbing upward, a motion that will take you a few moments to become accustomed to. It is important to remember that this is not a race, but an endurance test. The staircase will move at approximately five miles an hour, and you will attempt to remain on it for sixty minutes.

“I can see from the expressions on one or two of your faces that you are beginning to wonder what all the fuss is about,” continued Lampton. “After all, it would not be uncommon for men of your experience and ability to climb for many hours without a break. However, there are one or two other things you will have to contend with during the next sixty minutes. The chamber is currently at room temperature, and its atmosphere is set to closely approximate that found at sea level. By the end of the hour, any of you who are still able to move at that pace will be experiencing the conditions they might expect to encounter at 29,000 feet, as the temperature in the room will have fallen to minus forty degrees. That is the reason I asked you to dress exactly as you would for a climb.

“I shall also be introducing another little challenge. If you look at the far wall, you will see two large industrial fans: my wind machines. And let me assure you, gentlemen, it will not be a following wind.” One or two of the twelve laughed nervously. “Once I set them in motion they will do everything in their power to blow you off the escalator.

“Finally, you will notice several rubber mats, blankets, and buckets placed around the room. Once you have been forced off the moving staircase, you will be able to rest and warm yourself. I’m sure I don’t have to explain why the buckets are placed by the bottom of the escalator.” This time no one laughed. “On the wall to your left are a clock, a gauge showing the temperature in the chamber, and an altimeter to indicate the atmospheric pressure. I will now give you a few moments to familiarize yourself with how the moving staircase works. I suggest that you position yourselves two steps apart. Should you find yourself having difficulty in maintaining your pace, move to the right and allow the man behind to overtake you. Are there any questions?”

“What’s on the other side of that window?” asked Norton, the only candidate George hadn’t come across before; a soldier who had been recommended by General Bruce.

“That’s where the control room is located. It’s from there that my staff will observe your progress. We can see you, but you can’t see us. When the hour is up, the escalator will come to a halt, the wind machines will be turned off, and the temperature will return to normal. At that point, you will be joined by several doctors and nurses who will carry out tests to assess your rate of recovery. Now, gentlemen, would you be so kind as to take your places on the escalator.”

Finch immediately ran up to the top step, while George took his place two steps below him, with Somervell a further two steps behind.

“The staircase will start to move the moment the buzzer sounds,”

said Lampton. “It will sound again ten minutes later, by which time the atmosphere in the chamber will be equivalent to that found at an altitude of 5,000 feet and the temperature will have fallen to zero. The buzzer will continue to sound at ten-minute intervals throughout the test. The wind machines will be turned on after forty minutes. If anyone is still on their feet at the end of one hour, they will, I repeat, be experiencing a temperature of minus forty degrees and the atmosphere found at 29,000 feet. Good luck, gentlemen.” Lampton left the room and closed the door behind him. They all heard a key turning in the lock.

The twelve men stood nervously on the staircase, waiting for the buzzer to sound. George took a deep breath through his nose, filling his lungs with air. He avoided looking at Finch, two steps above him, or at Somervell two steps below.

“Are you ready, gentlemen?” said the voice of Dr. Lampton over a loudspeaker. The buzzer sounded, and the staircase began to move at what seemed to George a fairly gentle pace. For ten minutes the twelve climbers all maintained their positions, and George didn’t sense much of a change when the buzzer sounded a second time. The staircase continued to move at the same speed, although the indicators on the wall showed that the temperature had fallen to zero and the atmospheric conditions were those of 5,000 feet.

Everyone was still in place after twenty minutes, when the buzzer sounded a third time. By thirty minutes they had reached 15,000 feet, and the temperature was ten degrees below zero. Still no one had fallen by the wayside. Kenwright was the first to take a step to the right, and slowly drift down past his colleagues before finally ending up at the foot of the staircase. He struggled gamely to reach the nearest mat, where he collapsed in a heap. It was some minutes before he had the strength even to pull a blanket over his body. Lampton drew a line through his name. He would not be part of the team traveling to Tibet.

Finch and Mallory were maintaining the pace at the top of the escalator, with Somervell, Bullock, and Odell on their heels. George had almost forgotten about the wind machines, until the buzzer sounded for the fifth time and a blast of cold air hit him in the face. He wanted to rub his eyes, but knew that if he removed his goggles on a real mountain at 29,000 feet, he risked snow blindness. He thought he saw Finch stumble in front of him, but he quickly recovered.

George didn’t see the poor fellow a few steps below him who had removed his goggles and reeled backward as he took the full blast of cold wind in his face. Moments later he was on his hands and knees on the floor at the base of the staircase, covering his eyes and vomiting. Lampton drew a line through the name of another man who wouldn’t be making the passage to India.

When the buzzer sounded at fifty minutes, they had reached 24,000 feet, with temperatures of minus twenty-five degrees. Only Mallory, Finch, Odell, Somervell, Bullock, and Norton were still on their feet. By the time they had reached 25,000 feet, Bullock and Odell had joined the others on the mats, so exhausted they didn’t have the strength to follow the progress of the four survivors. Dr. Lampton checked the clock and put a tick beside Odell’s and Bullock’s names.

Somervell managed just over fifty-three minutes before he fell off the staircase and collapsed to his hands and knees. He tried valiantly to step back on, but was immediately thrown off again. Norton was kneeling by his side a moment later. Lampton wrote 53 minutes and 54 minutes next to their names. He then turned his attention to the two men who appeared to be immovable.

Lampton lowered the temperature to minus forty degrees and raised the atmospheric pressure to that at 29,000 feet, but the two survivors still refused to be budged. He turned the wind machine up to forty miles an hour. Finch stumbled, regretting that he had bagged the top step, as he was now shielding George from the full force of the wind. But just as it looked as if he was beaten, he somehow managed to recover and find enough strength to keep pace with the relentlessly moving escalator.

The clock showed both climbers that they only had three more minutes to go. That was when George decided he would have to give up. His legs felt like lumps of jelly, he was frozen and gasping for breath, and he was beginning to fall back. He accepted that the victory would be Finch’s. Then, without warning, Finch fell back a step, and then another, followed by a third, which only made George more determined to hold on for the last ninety seconds until the final buzzer sounded. When the staircase at last came to a halt, he and Finch fell into each other’s arms like a pair of legless drunks.

Odell hauled himself up from his mat and staggered across to congratulate them. Somervell and Norton joined them a moment later. If Bullock could have crawled across, he would have done so, but he remained spread-eagled on the mat, still gasping for breath.

Once the wind machine had been turned off, the altitude returned to sea level and the temperature raised to normal, the door of the chamber was unlocked, and a dozen doctors and nurses rushed into the room and began to carry out tests on the participants to gauge their rates of recovery. In less than five minutes, George’s heartbeat was back down to forty-eight, by which time Finch was strolling around the room chatting to those colleagues who were still standing.

Dr. Lampton remained in the control room. He knew he was going to have to tell Hinks that Mallory and Finch were by far the most impressive candidates, and frankly there was nothing to choose between them. He was convinced that if anyone was likely to reach 29,000 feet and stand on top of the world, it was going to be one of those two.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

WHEN RUTH PICKED up the phone, she immediately recognized the voice on the other end of the line.

“Good morning, headmaster,” she said. “—Yes, he left a few moments ago—no, he never drives to school, headmaster, he always walks—it’s just under five miles, and it usually takes him around fifty minutes. Good-bye, headmaster.”