To-day is Lashly’s birthday; he is married and has a family; is 44 years of age, and due for his pension from the service.  He is as strong as most and is an undefeated old sportsman.  Being a chief stoker, R.N., his original job was charge of one of the ill-fated motor sledges.

[The following is Lashly’s own account: 

“Christmas Day and a good one.  We have done 15 miles over a very changing surface.  First of all it was very much crevassed and pretty rotten; we were often in difficulties as to which way we should tackle it.  I had the misfortune to drop clean through, but was stopped with a jerk when at the end of my harness.  It was not of course a very nice sensation, especially on Christmas Day, and being my birthday as well.  While spinning round in space like I was it took me a few seconds to gather together my thoughts and see what kind of a place I was in.  It certainly was not a fairy’s place.  When I had collected myself I heard some one calling from above, ‘Are you all right, Lashly?’ I was all right it is true, but I did not care to be dangling in the air on a piece of rope, especially when I looked round and saw what kind of a place it was.  It seemed about 50 feet deep and 8 feet wide, and 120 feet long.  This information I had ample time to gain while dangling there.  I could measure the width with my ski sticks, as I had them on my wrists.  It seemed a long time before I saw the rope come down alongside me with a bowline in it for me to put my foot in and get dragged out.  It was not a job I should care to have to go through often, as by being in the crevasse I had got cold and a bit frost-bitten on the hands and face, which made it more difficult for me to help myself.  Anyhow Mr. Evans, Bowers and Crean hauled me out and Crean wished me many happy returns of the day, and of course I thanked him politely and the others laughed, but all were pleased I was not hurt bar a bit of a shake.  It was funny although they called to the other team to stop they did not hear, but went trudging on and did not know until they looked round just in time to see me arrive on top again.  They then waited for us to come up with them.  The Captain asked if I was all right and could go on again, which I could honestly say ‘Yes’ to, and at night when we stopped for dinner I felt I could do two dinners in.  Anyhow we had a pretty good tuck-in.  Dinner consisted of pemmican, biscuits, chocolate eclair, pony meat, plum pudding and crystallized ginger and four caramels each.  We none of us could hardly move."[247]]

We had done over eight miles at lunch.  I had managed to scrape together from the Barrier rations enough extra food to allow us a stick of chocolate each for lunch, with two spoonfuls of raisins each in our tea.  In the afternoon we got clear of crevasses pretty soon, but towards the end of the afternoon Captain Scott got fairly wound up and went on and on.  The breeze died down and my breath kept fogging my glasses, and our windproofs got oppressively warm and altogether things were pretty rotten.  At last he stopped and we found we had done 143/4 miles.  He said, “What about fifteen miles for Christmas Day?” so we gladly went on—­anything definite is better than indefinite trudging.