From the new series: 24 faces of the Earth in 24 hours.

Visiting cemetary. Next to my gramps lies a German guy with the name Bernhard Herrmann, which sounds like a dog barking. „The most southerly German grave“, it says, and the year is 1940. A German science crew came here on this day one year ago, none of them blond, I think the people were disappointed. One of them showed me his poems and read a couple of them to me. We made out: I did not expect his tongue to be so soft. I looked for him when they came through again on their way from Antarctica but he’d died there, they said, and they left him under the ice.

Can’t even trust an epitaph.