The following is the text of the Headmaster’s address to the school in Assembly on Monday February 20, 2012

As I am sure many of you know, the year 2012 marks the centenary of the death of Robert Falcon Scott, the famous explorer who led the ill-fated expedition to the South Pole in 1912.

The basic history of the expedition is well documented and probably familiar to many of you: Captain Scott – since immortalised of course simply as ‘Scott of the Antarctic’ – led a party of five whose goal was not only to reach the geographical South Pole but to be the first to do so. They did indeed eventually reach the South Pole on 17 January 1912, only to find that they had been beaten to it by Amundsen's Norwegian expedition. On their return journey, Scott and his four comrades all perished from a combination of ex haustion, starvation and (of course) extreme cold. It is amazing to think that, exactly one hundred years ago, as I read this to you this morning, Scott and his comrades were battling – in vain as it turned out – against the toughest of conditions as they fought their way back from the Pole.

As we head for World Book Day, I wanted to reflect a little on the journal in which Captain Scott records this heroic but ultimately doomed odyssey – it is a wonderful example of the power of the written word:

From January 11^th – so this is as they are making their way towards the Pole itself:

“Night camp: Height 10,530 feet. Temperature: -16.3°. Minimum: minus 25.8°. Another hard grind in the afternoon and five miles added. About 74 miles from the Pole – can we keep this up for seven days? It takes it out of us like anything. None of us ever had such hard work before. The sun so bright and warm to-night that it is almost impossible to imagine a minus temperature. The snow seems to get softer as we advance. Our chance still holds good if we can put the work in, but it’s a terribly trying time.”

A few days later, on Tuesday, January 16^th, they were just a day away from their goal – but this turned out to be their lowest moment, for they realise that the Norwegian expedition has beaten them to it. Scott writes as follows:

“Height 9,760 feet. Temperature: -23.5º. The worst has happened, or nearly the worst. We marched well in the morning and covered seven-and-a-half miles…... We started off in high spirits in the afternoon, feeling that to-morrow would see us at our destination. About the second hour of the march, Bowers’ sharp eyes detected what he thought was a cairn; he was uneasy about it…. Half an hour later he detected a black speck ahead. Soon we knew that this could not be a natural snow feature. We marched on, and found that it was a black flag tied to a sledge bearer; near by the remains of a camp. This told us the whole story. The Norwegians have forestalled us and are first at the Pole. It is a terrible disappointment, and I am very sorry for my loyal companions. Many thoughts come and much discussion have we had. To-morrow we must march on to the Pole and then hasten home with all the speed we can compass. All the day dreams must go; it will be a wearisome return. We are descending in altitude…..”

The next day must have been one of bitter-sweet emotions – and Scott records it as follows:

“Temperature: -22º at start. Night -21º.

The Pole. Yes, but under very different circumstances from those expected. We have had a horrible day – add to our disappointment a head wind of 4 to 5, with a temperature -22º, and companions labouring on with cold feet and hands. We started at 7.30, none of us having slept much after the shock of our discovery. We followed the Norwegian sledge tracks for some way; as far as we make out there are only two men. At 12.30 Evans had such cold hands we camped for lunch. We had marched 7.4 miles. We started out and did 6 ½ miles due south. Great God! This is an awful place and terrible enough for us to have laboured to it without the reward of priority. Well, it is something to have got here, and the wind may be our friend to-morrow. Now for the run home and a desperate struggle. I wonder if we can do it.”

Read by us one hundred years later, knowing the sad answer to Scott’s rhetorical question, the ‘dramatic irony’ of these words is all too apparent. Some of the diary entries for the days which follow are far too sad and bitter for me to read out on a Monday morning, including of course the one for March 17^th, which records the self-sacrifice of Captain Laurence Oates who, on the previous day, walked out from a tent into a blizzard, with perhaps the most understated and “British” of ‘famous last words’ when he said "I am just going outside and may be some time".

His death has been immortalised as an act of self-sacrifice: aware that his own ill health was compromising his three companions’ already slim chances of survival, he chose certain death.

I hope that it is clear from these few examples that Scott’s diaries make absolutely riveting reading – and if any of you want to look up any more of them, then you may be interested to know that they have been published, in this centenary year, in the form of a blog by the Scott Polar Research Institute, which is part of the University of Cambridge. The entries have been posted on Twitter so that you can relive the daily events of the expedition as recorded by Captain Scott in his journal - I’ll put a copy of the link on the website and on our school Facebook page – have a look – and I’ll return to this theme of the power of the written word next week.

World Book Day, as its title indicates, is really about books rather than other media – but if you’re reading this at your computer, you may prefer to dip into diaries online; if so, you can follow this link: https://twitter.com/#!/scottslastexp