Chapter FifteenJAN MAYEN LAND
JUNE 1914
Some die in the wayside, some drop down on the streets, the poor sucking hobs and starving for want of milk which the empty breasts of their mothers cannot give them. Everyone can see Death in the faces of the poor.
Robert Sibbald, eyewitness to King William's Ill Years, Scotland, mid 1690s
'What the devil is happening?' I emerged on deck and looked around. The lamps must have guttered out in smoke and stink hours before, and the pale Arctic night had lightened into the greyness of day. Everything was still and dismal, with Lady Balgay swinging softly to her anchor in the solemnity of the fjord.
The scream sounded again, more drawn out, ending in a horrifying bubble of despair that raised the small hairs on the back of his skull.
'Jesus.' I rai
