After nearly 30 years as a grisly landmark on the North Side of Everest, the body known as “Green Boots” is the target of a recovery effort by Indian authorities. The Indo–Tibetan Border Police has issued a call for experienced high-altitude teams to bring down the remains. At roughly 27,800 feet, the body is located very high on the mountain, in the highly dangerous “death zone.”
It’s also on the Northeast Ridge route on the Tibetan side of the mountain, but the team still hopes to return the remains to India by October.
This would be no ordinary operation. Authorities are looking for specialist agencies with proven track records in similar recoveries — ideally, recent experience on Everest itself. Teams must include at least six Sherpas who have reached the summit multiple times, and they must document their work thoroughly. The full mission could span up to 40 days, factoring in the extreme challenges of working in the death zone during the summer and early autumn.
The original version of this story was published on ExplorersWeb.
Body Identified at Last
The body rests curled in a small rocky alcove, below the First Step, at about 8,500 m. For decades, its bright lime-green Koflach boots made it an unmistakable reference point for climbers heading up or down the ridge. Many used its location as a checkpoint, radioing Base Camp upon reaching it. Over time, it became one of Everest’s most talked-about and photographed landmarks (albeit a grim one).
The long-standing debate over whether the body belonged to Tsewang Paljor or Dorje Morup has now been officially settled by the government of India. Both Indian climbers died on the same day, but DNA testing conducted ahead of the recovery mission concluded that the remains belong to Dorje Morup.
The 1996 North Side Events
While the South Side commercial expeditions and their tragic losses during the infamous 1996 Everest season captured global attention, a quieter but equally harrowing drama unfolded on the North Side, involving an Indian police expedition. In contrast to the South Side tragedies, which were extensively documented in books and films, the North Side losses received far less international coverage.
Led by Mohinder Singh, the team was attempting what would have been a landmark first Indian ascent from the Tibetan side. On May 10, seven climbers set out for the summit via the North Col and Northeast Ridge. Four of them turned around at roughly 27,800 feet after facing stormy weather and exhaustion. The remaining three — Tsewang Smanla, Dorje Morup, and Tsewang Paljor — continued upward.
Late that afternoon, they radioed that they had reached the top. However, with heavy cloud, snow, and zero visibility, later reviews raised questions about whether they had actually stood on the summit or had stopped roughly 500 feet short. (The Himalayan Database registers the summit as valid.)
As darkness fell and the storm intensified, the three were caught in the “death zone.” They endured a brutal night of hurricane-force winds and freezing temperatures.
The next day, May 11, a Japanese team climbing the same route came across the Indians, who were still alive but badly frostbitten and in critical condition. The Japanese continued their ascent without offering substantial help. Finally, the three Indian climbers died from exposure and severe frostbite.
Controversy
The lack of substantial help by the Japanese led to initial strong criticism from the Indian side, with accusations that the Japanese had failed in their ethical duty to assist climbers in distress. Those formal complaints were later withdrawn. However, the controversy over mountaineering ethics has persisted — specifically, whether the summit is more important than helping other climbers in distress.
Challenges for the Recovery Mission
Any recovery at this altitude is exceptionally demanding. Low oxygen impairs judgment and strength. The frozen remains, weighed down by gear and rigid limbs, can be extraordinarily difficult to maneuver over technical terrain.
Cultural considerations add another layer. Many Sherpas come from Buddhist backgrounds, so the handling of human remains requires deep respect and sensitivity.
New Zealand climber and longtime expedition leader Guy Cotter has direct experience with such operations, having coordinated a body retrieval on Everest in 1997. According to Cotter, quoted in The Guardian, the recovery of this particular body “would have been a good thing to have done a long time before now.” He emphasized that bringing human remains home to their families “brings closure — as long as it’s not putting other people at undue risk.”
Cotter also noted the fine balance involved: “There have been situations with body recoveries where more people have died. It’s a very thin line.”
Roughly 200 bodies are believed to still lie on Everest, many in places where retrieval is simply too hazardous or costly. Recent cleanup initiatives have shown progress when conditions and teams align, but each operation demands meticulous planning.
For the families connected to the 1996 Indian expedition, this mission offers the possibility of a dignified closure. If suitable teams step forward — and the weather cooperates within a narrow seasonal window — the operation will begin later this year.
