The Cruel Sea

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From London". The Mail. Adelaide: National Library of Australia. 9 January 1954. p.50. Archived from the original on 29 March 2021 . Retrieved 10 July 2012. the time for sensibility was past, gentleness was outdated, and feeling need not come again till the unfeeling job was over." p. 106. He should have done something about getting the mess cleared up in the fo’c’s’le, but he couldn’t be bothered. He should somehow have organized at least one hot meal a day, even if it were only warmed-up tinned beans; the galley fire was unusable, but with a little ingenuity it could have been done in the engine room. This, again, was more trouble than he was prepared to take. Instead, he sulked, and shirked, and secretly longed to be out of it. There is also a moment when the Compass Rose discovers a lifeboat floating alone on the sea, a single dead man inside, sitting at the rudder: He loved the sea, though not blindly: it was the cynical, self-contemptuous love of a man for a mistress whom he distrusts profoundly but cannot do without.

It is a masterpiece, I feel in some respects very ahead of its time (coming from my novice literature experience) it doesn’t shy away from anything, even delving into the troubles of married life with a no holes barred approach, which I would guess for the time it was written was taboo to say the least. The Ship That Died of Shame, and Other Stories (1959) (comprising The Ship That Died of Shame; Oh To Be in England!; The Reconciliation; The List; The Thousand Islands Snatch; Up The Garden Path; The Man Who Wanted a Mark IX; I Was There; The Dinner Party; Licensed To Kill; Postscript) Smith, J. Y. (9 August 1979). "Author Nicholas Monsarrat Dies". The Washington Post . Retrieved 20 April 2017. The film portrays the conditions in which the Battle of the Atlantic was fought between the Royal Navy and Germany's U-boats, seen from the viewpoint of the British naval officers and seamen who served in convoy escorts. It is based on the best-selling 1951 novel of the same name by former naval officer Nicholas Monsarrat, though the screenplay by Eric Ambler omits some of the novel's grimmest moments. It was a true captain’s face, a captain in defeat who mourned his ship, and bore alone the monstrous burden of its loss. 10

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Today's economic participants are perpetually at sea and failure may very well be a sort of virtual death. Our livelihood, which is often synonymous with life itself, can be stolen by seemingly inhuman forces, which are easily hated. Our home ports are but a fleeting reprieve, sometimes despised for the temporary shelter that they represent. And we are constantly cast adrift, at sea, at war, again and again. While Leading Signalman Wells was replying, first making Compass Rose’s number and then taking down a long signal about the organization of the convoy, Ericson studied the line of ships coming toward them. They were of all shapes and sizes: tankers, big freighters, small ships that would surely have been better off in the coasting trade than trying the hazards of an Atlantic passage. Some were deep-laden, some were in ballast and uncomfortably high out of the water: they steamed in single file from the narrow Mersey channel: their pendants flew bravely in the sunshine, they seemed almost glad to be putting to sea again. . . . That could hardly be true, thought Ericson with a smile, remembering the tearful good-byes, the hang-overs, the feeling of “Oh-God-here-we-go-again” that attended every sailing; but there was something about the file of ships — forty-six of them — that suggested a willingness to make the voyage, a tough confidence in the future. Monsarrat's first three novels, published in 1934–1937 and now out of print, were realistic treatments of modern social problems informed by his leftist politics. His fourth novel and first major work, This Is The Schoolroom, took a different approach. The story of a young, idealistic, aspiring writer coming to grips with the "real world" for the first time, it is at least partly autobiographical.

Published in 1951, this book is a classic fiction of maritime warfare in the Battle of the Atlantic during WWII, focused on a corvette ship assigned to protect convoys from German U-Boats. At the story opens, the newly built HMS Compass Rose is just being readied for launch and the crew is in training. The only experienced crew member is Lieutenant-Commander George Ericson, who had previously served in the Merchant Navy. His officers are new to the Royal Navy, as so many were at the start of the war, having previously held civilian jobs. It is told linearly, covering 1939 to 1945, with one chapter dedicated to each year, and is based on the author’s own (and, at that time, recent) experiences. But this isn't just a war story. In a surprisingly subtle way, The Cruel Sea also chronicles the often abrasive process by which classes, previously unknown to each other, were thrown together onboard ship and had to learn to rub along - and how the earned respect, in the long term, led to the future Welfare State and the social equity and cooperation of the 50's and 60's.

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They did four more convoys, of the rough, nervous character that marked most convoys nowadays; and then, at high summer, they were given what they had been looking forward to for many months — a refit, with the long leave that went with it; the first long leave since Compass Rose was commissioned. They had all wanted that leave: many of them needed it badly: life on Atlantic convoys was a matter of slowly increasing strain, strain still mounting toward a crucial point that could not yet be foreseen, and it took its toll of men’s nerves and patience, as surely as of ships. He said — ah — ‘Don’t come the acid with me,’” Morell screwed up his eyes. “‘Come the acid’ . . . I must confess I have not heard that before.”

I suppose you were slipping ashore the whole time.” He took an enormous gulp of whisky, coughed, and only just held on to it. His eyes moved unsteadily round to Morell and Ferraby. “And as for you married men—married — ” He lost the thread of what he was going to say, but unfortunately started again. “You had a wonderful time. Don’t tell me.” I found the book even better than the film. More depth, more emotional intensity, more to really get your teeth into. Their first convoy was a bloodless skirmish, as were many others in that momentary lull; but it was a useful foretaste of what was to come, as well as a proving of the ship in weather worse than they had yet met. a b Pace, Eric (4 August 1979). "Nicholas Monsarrat, Novelist, Dies; Wrote War Epic 'The Cruel Sea' ". The New York Times. p.17 . Retrieved 20 April 2017. Halliwell's Film Guide described the film as a "competent transcription of a bestselling book, cleanly produced and acted". [19] See also [ edit ]

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The ending is low-key, and I like this. The book gives readers a glimpse into another aspect of the Second World War. It is a book featuring so-called “fictional characters”, but it draws the true to life reality of the war as it played out for the men stationed on escort ships guarding convoys. I repeat—Monsarrat writes of that which he knows. HMS River" and "HMS Saltash" were fictional River-class frigates in H M Frigate (1946), and the novel The Cruel Sea (1951). (In the 1953 film version HMS Saltash was depicted by Castle-class corvette: HMS Portchester Castle, and hence named " Saltash Castle"). Secret signal, sir,” said Wells, in not quite his normal inexpressive voice. “The signal boat just brought it aboard.”

THE Captain carried them all. For him, there was no fixed watch, no time set aside when he was free to relax and, if he could, to sleep. He had to control everything, to drive the whole ship himself: he had to act on signals, to fix their position, to keep his section of the convoy together, to use his seamanship to ease Compass Rose’s ordeal as much as possible. He was a tower of strength, holding everything together by sheer unrelenting guts. The sight of the tall tough figure hunched in one corner of the bridge now seemed essential to them all: they needed the tremendous reassurance of his presence, and so he gave it unstintingly, even though the hours without sleep mounted to a fantastic total. The First Lieutenant used an expression which is novel to me,” he began. “I wish you’d explain what it means.” It’s impossible to choose the best. The Cruel Sea, however, deserves to stand among the best. It deserves an audience. This is nautical fiction stripped of the romance and glamour normally associated with the genre, to reveal a plot that is gritty and real. The appalling weather is as much the enemy as the circling German U-boats. It has all the elements that show what war is actually like - the boredom, the exhaustion, the relentlessness and the errors made in equal measure. Some officers are brave, others as bullies; some are dedicated, while others neglect their duty. The journey of the ship’s commanding officer, Ericson, being remorselessly ground down with fatigue and war weariness is particularly poignant.

As soon as they got in at the end of their first trip. Ericson applied for another officer to be appointed to the ship; it was clear that there was far too much work for a First Lieutenant and two subs to handle, leaving out of account the chance that accident or illness might make them more shorthanded still. He presented a good case, arguing the matter first with a faintly supercilious staff officer who seemed to think that corvettes were some kind of local defense vessel, and then incorporating his arguments in a formal submission to the Admiralty: it must have been an effective document, since their Lordships acted on it within three weeks. Sub-Lieutenant Morell, they said, was appointed to Compass Rose, “additional for watchkeeping duties”; SubLieutenant Morell would join them forthwith.