In reply to Rick Graham:
Yes, I recall at the top of the Tournette spur, where we had only been with one other party that we had been in the very remote bivi hut with, suddenly joining the very last bit of the Bosses ridge route.
It was like a procession of the damned, unfit, unaclimitised, trudging, dragged by impatient French guides one after the other in the same footsteps, headtorches serving only, as Milton puts it as :
"Black light, that can but illumine scenes of woe "
Or if you prefer T. S. Elliot :
"so many, I had not thought death had undone so many.
Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,
And each man fixed his eyes before his feet"
We made a point of annoying the guides by making a cup of tea at the top. Which we then swapped with some Czechs who had arrived at the summit with a bottle of Scotch.
Post edited at 22:32