ABSTRACT
It is now more than a month since we pitched our tents in this wonderful oasis in the midst of the Siachen, a little less than two months since I attacked the great glacier. It will be at least another fortnight before I get off the glacier and leave it for good. Contrary to all expectations, all reports, and to its own usual behaviour, the glacier has received me with unwonted kindness. Everyone has always agreed in abusing it: ‘Beware of the Siachen! It is unassailable. Almost everyone has failed [which is, indeed, true!]. The Nubra will certainly stop you. The tongue of the glacier [also wrote the Workmans] with all its crevasses and séracs, is like a rampart specially made to prevent access to the glacier.'
