The Guardian Weekend | 13 February 2021 11Front Experience
we had no food left, we began discussing the
unthinkable – eating the frozen fl esh of our dead
friends. Then something incredible happened:
men started saying that if they died they’d
willingly give their bodies to their friends.
Faced with death, we all made a pact of love. But
eating human fl esh isn’t easy. My mouth wouldn’t
open, and I couldn’t bring myself to swallow. But
eventually, your survival instinct prevails.
Sixteen days after the crash, we heard a sound
like 300 horses galloping towards us.
As I tried to stand up, everything
imploded. An avalanche buried us
under metres of compacted snow.
All the oxygen was sucked out of the
plane. My friend Fito’s foot was over
my face, creating an air pocket, but
with so little oxygen I felt my body
surrender to death. Then Fito was
lifted out of the snow by some of the
others who had escaped the
avalanche. My lungs fi lled with air.
We dug like animals to rescue the
others, but eight of them died.
On 12 December , three men set
off to walk to Chile to fi nd help. One
returned, but miraculously two of
them, Roberto and Nando , crossed
the Andes on foot in 10 days. Their
story was told in a book and later
a fi lm staring Ethan Hawke ; but less
has been said about the men waiting
behind with no idea if they’d make it.
A week passed and I decided that
if help didn’t come by 24 December ,
I’d allow myself to die. Gangrene had
developed in my right leg, and I was
in too much pain to move and could
barely eat. I had lost 45 kilos.
Two days before I was ready to
surrender to death, we heard on the radio that
help was coming. After 72 days, the sound of
helicopters was the most beautiful music. I ended
up spending 24 December drinking champagne,
reunited with my family.
On the mountain I kept a notebook. I wrote that
if I survived I’d marry Soledad and have a family
of my own. When I returned I put my energies into
our family and running a dairy farm. Although 16
of us survived, families from our neighbourhood
were mourning loved ones who died in the tragedy,
so I waited a long time before I felt able to talk.
But when I retired I felt ready to revisit what
had happened. I began writing about the brave
friends I lost. They didn’t get to live their lives,
whereas I was lucky. I’ve enjoyed a long life with
my family ; now it’s time to refl ect on the sacrifi ces
others made for us
José Luis InciarteI survived a plane crash
As I walked to the plane, I could see my fi anc ee, Soledad, waving from the airport balcony.
It was 12 October 1972 and I was fl ying from our home in Uruguay to Chile for four days,
where some of my friends were playing rugby against an old boys’ school team. I had been
invited along by my best friend, Gastón, to make up numbers.
There was a party atmosphere on board. I went to sit next to Gastón, but someone
beat me to it so I took a seat further forward. About 90 minutes into the fl ight , we hit an
air pocket. I heard the pilot shouting, “ Give me power!” The plane was heading straight
towards a mountain. There was a huge crash as the wing hit the rocks. I put my head
between my legs and closed my eyes. I was convinced I was going to die at 24.
Air and snow whipp ed past me as the plane slid down the mountain. As it stopped,
there was a moment of absolute silence, followed by shouts for help. In front of me, I saw a
pile of bodies, but behind me there was nothing. The back of the plane was gone. Mine was
the last row left.
We jumped out into the snow, but it was so deep we immediately sa nk to our waists.
I scrambled back into the fuselage, where we all tended to the injured. There were 27 of
us alive, with 24 unharmed. I had just a tiny wound on my knee. Night fell quickly. In the
darkness I felt the body heat of another man, 19-year-old Roberto Canessa. We spent the
night huddled together, trying to keep one another awake ; that human contact kept us alive.
The following morning we built a wall with suitcases to keep out the worst of the cold
and listened to a radio we’d found, waiting for news of our rescue. We melted snow in the
sun to make water, and shared the meagre rations of food between us.
After 10 days we heard the devastating news that the search had been called off. KnowingPABLO ALBARENGA/THE GUARDIAN
AS TOLD TO NATASHA HOLTDo you have an experience to share?
Email [email protected]I heard a sound
like 300 horses
galloping
towa rds us.
An avalanche
buried us under
metres of snowJosé Luis Inciarte with a
photograph of the crash
taken by his rescuers