Others of our “most occupied men” were the photographer Berge, and the journalist Ramm. The first of these two could always be seen with his camera in his hand and his tripod on his shoulder. He was everywhere. One could not even blow his nose without Berge being there to immortalize the event. Ramm kept the world advised of the expedition’s progress; if we did anything, it was immediately telegraphed. If we did not do anything, it was likewise immediately telegraphed. His strongest competitors were the meteorologists; not that they were giving news to the world’s press in competition with Ramm. No, they did not do that, but they were in frequent use of the wireless. Between the two parties there arose a burning question as to which was the more important--the weather reports or the news reports. The meteorologists voted for the weather, Ramm for the news. And so it remained. Dr. Matheson acted as the “Fram’s” and the expedition’s doctor. As a doctor he fortunately did not get much to do, but it seemed safe and comforting to know that he was near if anything should happen. I now come to the expedition’s most occupied man. That was my old traveling companion from the “Fram” and the “Maud” trips, Sailmaker Rönne. Since he first joined my service for the “Fram” expedition in 1910--fifteen years ago--any weakening in his work was undiscernible by me. In view of what he did on this trip one could only come to the conclusion that he had improved. He was the first man up every single morning, and in full swing long before any one else. But it was quite necessary for him to do this if he was to complete in good time all the little orders which came streaming in to him every day in large numbers. At one moment he was sewing shoes, soon afterwards trousers, then tents and sleeping bags. He worked at the boats and made the sledges ship-shape. His strongest forte was to bring along with him everything that other people had forgotten. If anything was missing any one could be absolutely sure that Rönne would be able to help him out of the difficulty. His greatest service at this time was that during the flight to the North he gave me a long knife made from an old bayonet which was to prove our best ice-tool. It was during our last dinner in the “salon” that he came to me and honored me with the knife. I had a splendid clasp-knife already, but accepted his gift in order not to offend him. I intended to lay it away in one or other of my lockers as it was too big to carry about. But how it happened I cannot say--the knife appeared in my rucksack and was of invaluable use to us later. Ton after ton of ice has been shifted by my comrades and myself with this same knife. When I travel next time I shall have at least a dozen with me.