Leonid Rogozov was not simply stranded in Antarctica when appendicitis struck in April 1961. He was the only doctor at a remote Soviet research station, cut off by winter weather and frozen seas. With evacuation impossible and his condition worsening, the 27-year-old surgeon prepared an operating room, recruited colleagues to assist and made the extraordinary decision to remove his own appendix. The account was later documented in a 2009 British Medical Journal case report co-written by his son, Vladislav Rogozov.Rogozov was part of the sixth Soviet Antarctic expedition, which had sailed from Leningrad aboard the ship ‘Ob’ on November 5, 1960. After a 36-day journey, the team reached Antarctica and began constructing a new base at Schirmacher Oasis. The station, named Novolazarevskaya, officially opened on February 18, 1961. Twelve people would spend the long winter there, with Rogozov serving as their sole doctor. He also worked as a meteorologist and drove the station’s terrain vehicle.The expedition had arrived just before the Antarctic winter set in. The ship had departed, the sea was freezing over and months of darkness, snowstorms and extreme cold lay ahead. The next resupply would not arrive for about a year, leaving the team largely dependent on its own resources.On April 29, Rogozov began feeling weak and nauseous. A pain in his upper abdomen gradually shifted to the lower right side, and his temperature rose. As a trained surgeon, he recognised the symptoms of acute appendicitis. He recorded his suspicion in his diary but initially kept quiet, not wanting to alarm his colleagues.The following day, his condition deteriorated. Antibiotics and other conservative measures failed to improve his symptoms. He developed a fever and began vomiting more frequently. An untreated inflamed appendix can rupture and cause peritonitis, a potentially life-threatening infection of the abdominal lining. Rogozov knew that he needed surgery, but an evacuation was not possible. Snowstorms ruled out flying, while the frozen sea and the distance from the nearest medical help made a return journey by ship impractical. He was left with an option few surgeons would ever contemplate: operating on himself.Rogozov converted his room into an improvised operating theatre, moving out furniture and keeping only his bed, two tables and a lamp. He selected a mechanic and a meteorologist to assist him. One would hand him instruments, while the other would hold a mirror and adjust the light so he could see the area he was operating on. A third colleague was kept ready as a backup in case either assistant became faint. He also prepared his colleagues for emergencies, showing them how to administer injections and provide artificial ventilation if he lost consciousness. After disinfecting the room and his assistants’ hands, he positioned himself in a semi-reclining posture, with his right side raised.The operation began on April 30 under local anaesthesia. Rogozov injected the abdominal wall with Novocain, then made an incision measuring around 10 to 12 centimetres. He could not rely entirely on the mirror, which reversed the image, and had to use his sense of touch for much of the procedure.The surgery was far from straightforward. After about 40 minutes, he began feeling weak and dizzy, forcing himself to pause repeatedly. Sweat ran down his face, and he asked his assistants to wipe it away. During the procedure, he accidentally injured the caecum, part of the large intestine, and had to stitch the damage before continuing. He eventually located and removed the inflamed appendix, then closed the incision.The operation lasted approximately two hours, according to accounts based on his report and the contemporary Soviet record. Rogozov later estimated that the appendix might have ruptured within a day if it had not been removed.His recovery was closely watched by the station’s small team. He continued taking antibiotics, his temperature returned to normal after five days, and he removed his own stitches after a week. Within about two weeks, he was back to his regular duties at the Antarctic base.The episode later became one of the most extraordinary accounts in the history of remote medicine. Rogozov returned to the Soviet Union in October 1962 and continued his medical career, eventually specialising in surgery. He died in Saint Petersburg on September 21, 2000, aged 66.His operation remains a striking example of the challenges faced by medical teams working in isolated environments, where even a common surgical emergency can become a fight for survival.