It's terrible about that guy. I loved him as much as anyone, and I am extremely sorry he's gone. I'm heartbroken about Erik. We're going to honor him as a friend and as a man as soon as we get back. That's a promise. And no one, no one, is making some kind of plan to cook and eat his corpse. All we're going to do is leave him where he is for now. Because he's frozen solid. His body is really, really difficult to move! The fact that supplies are low has nothing to do with it.
Anyway I'm pretty sure that last message got through.
They're going to send a rescue plane in a few days. We can survive that long. I know we can. And even if that radio died before the last transmission -- which I am sure isn't the case -- people should start wondering where we are pretty soon. Maybe there will be some confusion about which route we took, of course. But that wouldn't keep them from finding us, eventually. Eating Erik isn't going to be an option we'll have to consider. Let's let him stay where he is.
You know what I admired most about him? He had a love of life. "Life is for the living," he used to tell me. He'd want us to make it out of here. It would be the best way to keep his memory alive, you know? To keep Erik alive. Anyway that plane's going to come soon. And even if it doesn't I just know we'll survive. Somehow.
Don't move the body. Keep it under the ice.
Look I know you want to bury him, but we're just not going to do it, okay? We want to keep him preserved -- for burial back in the US. You remember last Thanksgiving, when I thawed a turkey on the sink, and everybody got so terribly ill? That's what will happen. And then we won't be able to take him back.
Erik wants to go back with us. And he will. I promise.