Free A Day to Die For: 1996: Everest's Worst Disaster - One Survivor's Personal Journey to Uncover the Truth by Graham Ratcliffe Page A

with him, had turned him around on their summit attempt. Although they’d reached the Second Step, at over 28,000 feet Russell had decided if they didn’t turn around there might not be enough time to make a safe descent before nightfall. Tom had initially been against retreating. Only after Russell stood his ground in the ensuing argument did Tom concede. Such difficult decisions always leave ‘what ifs’ hanging in the air. In the final analysis, the right choice in these situations has to be the safe one. For those with determination, the mountain will be there another year.
    Now, several days later, Tom was back in Kathmandu. The disappointment hadn’t subsided. His talk was of organising his own expedition from Nepal to attempt the South East Ridge in a year or two. He’d started to make enquiries.
    Anatoli and Nikolai had also returned. As Anatoli was working for Henry, he had needed to wait until the last of our team’s summit attempts had taken place. Only then could he leave Tibet.
    Both Russians had checked into the Gauri Shankar. Anatoli subsequently moved to a different hotel after one night. Not because he wanted to be away from us but because the alternative was less than half the price. Ours was $10 per night and his new accommodation $4. Even though Anatoli had earned good money from the last two months’ work, he’d no indication of the next employment he would find. His Soviet background had taught him that the US dollar was a valuable asset that was hard to come by. He was not about to spend the money he’d earned on something that cost more than twice as much but ultimately provided the same facility: a bed.
    The recent break-up of the USSR worried Anatoli. The rush in certain quarters to earn personal wealth without any regard for others was of particular concern. He openly said he preferred the order that had been abandoned, where at least the elderly had been looked after rather than being cast aside by others’ greed. It was not that he had objections to a free-market economy – one that he’d recently entered into. Rather, he disliked the avarice and criminality the former Soviet Union was now witnessing, with the accompanying rise in Mafia-style businesses.
    Anatoli had been honoured as one of the USSR’s Masters of Sport, for which he’d been presented with a bright-red cloak bearing the insignia of the hammer and sickle with star above. He’d brought this garment with him on our expedition, one that might shelter him from the icy Tibetan wind. Inner strength, humility and principles were an important part of who he was.
    Catherine and I joined Anatoli and Nikolai each morning for breakfast in a restaurant only five minutes’ walk from our respective hotels. This new venue had a garden area overlooked by a balustraded veranda that caught the warmth of the morning sun. Here, over a leisurely meal, taking an hour or more, we’d sit and discuss all manner of topics. Every now and again Anatoli halted the conversation to explain, in Russian, to Nikolai those parts he’d been unable to follow.
    Anatoli spoke with passion about his home city of Alma-Ata in Kazakhstan. He asked if we might come to visit him there, with a view to going climbing. He was aware that I had visited his country before. As is often the case, having recently finished one expedition we were immediately starting to plan the next adventure. Such is the addictive nature of the sport.
    One morning, after a leisurely breakfast, Catherine and I returned to find a light-blue VW Beetle parked near the hotel entrance. Sitting in the reception area talking to Henry was American expatriate Elizabeth Hawley.
    Liz had arrived in Nepal in September 1960 at the age of 36, as a reporter for Time . Initially here to send back political dispatches from the Kingdom, she had never left, once describing herself as ‘a refugee from the Manhattan rat race’. Realising the potential of Himalayan climbing, which was in a golden era, Liz