I warned the men. I warned them that warm conditions can be just as dangerous and problematic as the deep cold. They were having none of it, playing cricket on the ice floes in their shirt sleeves and sunbathing atop the quarterdeck like schoolboys on holiday. There was a celebratory mood, one I did not share, recalling the unusually warm winter of ’96 when we lost half the dog team and their handler to an open lead in the ice. Yesterday, the frivolity ended when Higgins went through the ice while carrying a keg of lager from the stores tent to the mess. The loss of that keg affected the men profoundly. Valiant efforts to retrieve it took two other lives until I called a halt to the futility. On the upside, our food rations will go further now.
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