—Friday, March 16 or Saturday
17–
Lost track of dates, but think the last correct. Tragedy all along the line. At
lunch, the day before yesterday, poor Titus Oates said he couldn't go on; he
proposed that we leave him in his sleeping-bag. That we could not do, and
induced him to come on, on the afternoon march. In spite of its awful nature
for him he struggled on and we made a few miles. At night he was worse and we
knew the end had come.
Should this be found I want these facts recorded. Oates' last
thoughts were of his Mother, but immediately before he took pride in thinking
that his regiment would be pleased with the bold way in which he met his death.
We can testify to his bravery. He has borne intense suffering for weeks without
complaint, and to the very last was able and willing to discuss outside
subjects. He did not—would not—give up hope the very end. He was a brave soul.
This was the end. He slept through the night before last, hoping not to wake;
but he woke in the morning—yesterday. It was blowing a blizzard. He said ' I am
just going outside and may be some time. ' He went out into the blizzard and we
have not seen him since.
. . . We knew that poor Oates was walking to his death, but though
we tried to dissuade him, we knew it was the act of a brave man and an English
gentleman. We all hope to meet the end with a similar spirit, and assuredly the
end is not far.
