The Cruel Sea, produced in the depth of rationing and cuts, was the first adult-themed film I saw, being taken to it by an aunt when I was around ten. It was a re-showing, rare in those days – 1956 or so, and the chap on the till tried to stop my aunt bringing me in as it was an A, so I needed to be 15 or so. She said that the film was about 'his five dead uncles.' We were allowed in.
My father was one of eight brothers, just three of whom survived the war. Of the five, one was killed in the bombing of Portsmouth, the other four torpedoed, two on the same day in two different RN ships.
The Cruel Sea has, therefore, a deep meaning for me. My aunt, then a widow, her husband being killed in the first two months of WWII, cried during the film, the only overt sign of emotion I ever saw in her.
None of my family rejoiced in the war, or mentioned bravery or heroes. One uncle who survived, despite volunteering for fuel tankers to get extra money, was on the Atlantic convoys. He slept on deck regardless of weather, too terrified of being caught below and burnt to death.
He saw a vessel hit by a torpedo. It caught fire, silhouetting his ship against the flames. He said he still, 15/20 years later, felt guilty that all he did was pray that they wouldn't stop for survivors.
The film encapsulates the attitude of those I met post war. There was nothing gung-ho about what they did. They were frightened, put upon, and crippled. They saw their friends being killed, burned and drowned. This film shows some of that. No trumpets for the sailors. They just returned to bombed out homes and a struggle to find loved ones.
The cast do their bit wonderfully. They are tired, bitchy, irritated and irritating. They are frightened. They are people like you and me in extraordinary circumstances. What is remarkable is that they were, in the most sensible meaning of the term, heroes.
My family were violently anti-war. Every one of my father's sisters lost a husband or boyfriend during the two world wars. Most were in the navy. One, aunty Enid, married in 1940, was parted the next day and within the year she got was a visit from the navy.
This film shows part of the agony that families and individuals went through. Watch it an wonder what you would do in similar circumstances. Would you be the one who opted out for the lecture circuit? Who could blame you.
A chilling film, especially if you realise that we've learnt nothing from the horror. We still go to war, we still sing patriotic songs, we still call those who kill foreigners heroes.
I've become my aunt. I cried at times during the film and so should we all.
My father was one of eight brothers, just three of whom survived the war. Of the five, one was killed in the bombing of Portsmouth, the other four torpedoed, two on the same day in two different RN ships.
The Cruel Sea has, therefore, a deep meaning for me. My aunt, then a widow, her husband being killed in the first two months of WWII, cried during the film, the only overt sign of emotion I ever saw in her.
None of my family rejoiced in the war, or mentioned bravery or heroes. One uncle who survived, despite volunteering for fuel tankers to get extra money, was on the Atlantic convoys. He slept on deck regardless of weather, too terrified of being caught below and burnt to death.
He saw a vessel hit by a torpedo. It caught fire, silhouetting his ship against the flames. He said he still, 15/20 years later, felt guilty that all he did was pray that they wouldn't stop for survivors.
The film encapsulates the attitude of those I met post war. There was nothing gung-ho about what they did. They were frightened, put upon, and crippled. They saw their friends being killed, burned and drowned. This film shows some of that. No trumpets for the sailors. They just returned to bombed out homes and a struggle to find loved ones.
The cast do their bit wonderfully. They are tired, bitchy, irritated and irritating. They are frightened. They are people like you and me in extraordinary circumstances. What is remarkable is that they were, in the most sensible meaning of the term, heroes.
My family were violently anti-war. Every one of my father's sisters lost a husband or boyfriend during the two world wars. Most were in the navy. One, aunty Enid, married in 1940, was parted the next day and within the year she got was a visit from the navy.
This film shows part of the agony that families and individuals went through. Watch it an wonder what you would do in similar circumstances. Would you be the one who opted out for the lecture circuit? Who could blame you.
A chilling film, especially if you realise that we've learnt nothing from the horror. We still go to war, we still sing patriotic songs, we still call those who kill foreigners heroes.
I've become my aunt. I cried at times during the film and so should we all.