The Moth of the title has only metaphorical association with nocturnal lepidoptera; it’s actually a small aeroplane, manufactured by de Havilland between the wars. The Mountain is a real mountain, the big one, Chomolungma, also known as Mount Everest. And in those days still unconquered. What – or rather who – links the two? The answer is Maurice Wilson.
No, me neither, until now. But what an introduction. And what a story. In fact you could say the (Gypsy) Moth links Wilson with the Mountain, in that it took him there –or nearly there – from an airfield in a suburb of north London, in short, eventful hops. Then, when the plane was impounded by officials in Darjeeling, Wilson walked the rest of the way, more than 300 miles, dressed up as a Tibetan priest and carrying an umbrella.
Wait though, that’s jumping the gun. First there’s growing up, in Bradford. Wilson was the son of a mill owner; he went to Carlton Road secondary school. And already he’s different from the other Everest adventurers of the day, who tended to have been schooled at Eton or Winchester, to be connected and entitled. Wilson would probably have joined the family business, had it not been for the first world war.
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