Alistair McLean

"HMS Ulysses"

(variant translation titles: "Cruiser" Ulysses", "Polar convoy")

Translation: V.V. Kuznetsov

Alfred L. Tennyson (1809-1892)

Follow me, friends! It's not too late to discover completely different shores. Swing your oars, hit the waves with Thunderboiling; for my destiny (While I'm alive, sail straight into the sunset, Where the stars splash in the ocean. Perhaps the abyss of waters will swallow us up, Thrown to the Island of Happiness, perhaps, Where the valiant Achilles will meet us again... All is not lost, Let the losses be uncountable; Let us not be the same, and not return those days, When the whole world lay at our feet; Let the Fire of hearts fade under the onslaught of fate, (all the same our testament: Fight and seek, find and not give up!

Translation by I. Kubersky

Dedicated to Gisela

I am indebted to my elder brother, Ian L. McLean, captain-instructor, for his advice and assistance in the production of this book. For the avoidance of misunderstanding, it should be noted that there is no connection between the British cruiser navy The Ulysses of the novel and the recently converted Ulster-class destroyer of the same name, which was commissioned in early 1944, about twelve months after the events of the novel, were converted to a frigate. None of the ships that were in Scapa Flow or participated in the convoy have any connection with ships of the same name that have operated before or are currently in the Royal Navy.

SUNDAY PM

Chapter first
INTRODUCTION. SUNDAY.
AFTERNOON

Slowly, as if considering every move, Starr crushed the rest of his cigarette in the ashtray. It seemed to Captain 1st Rank Vallery that this should have meant that the conversation was over. Vallery knew what was coming, and for a moment, the sharp bitterness of defeat made him forget the nagging headache that had haunted him all these days. But the feeling of annoyance lived in him only for a moment - he was really overtired, and so much so that everything was indifferent to him.

I'm very sorry, gentlemen, truly sorry," Starr said, smiling slightly. “Believe me, this is not an order. The decision of the Admiralty is the only the right decision under the current circumstances. Your failure to understand our point of view is to be regretted.

Starr hesitated and handed the platinum cigarette case to his four companions, who were seated with him at the round table in the admiral's saloon. The four of them shook their heads, and the smile returned to Starr's face. He took a cigarette and put the cigarette case in the breast pocket of his double-breasted gray suit. He leaned back in his chair and the smile disappeared from his face. Now, on the sleeve of his suit, it was easy to imagine the usual wide gold stripes of Vice Admiral Vincent Starr, Deputy Chief of Operations.

When I was flying from London this morning,” Starr began, “I was angry. I have a lot to do. And it seemed to me that the First Lord of the Admiralty was wasting his time. Both mine and mine. When you return, you will have to apologize to him. Sir Humphrey, as always, was right.

Let's be honest, gentlemen. I thought, and I had good reason to meet with your support and assistance in the speedy resolution of this unpleasant matter. Bad business? Starr chuckled. - No, you need to call a spade a spade. Rebellion, gentlemen, is the correct name for what happened. This is the heaviest crime. And what did I see here? Starr glanced around. - The officers of the Royal Navy, including the admiral, approve of the sailors' rebellion and are even ready to forgive them for this misconduct.

He's going too far, thought Vallery. - Provoking us. In his words, in the way they are said, there is a question to which he demands an answer.

But there was no answer. All four seemed to be unmoved by Starr's words. Different in character, they behaved the same way at that moment. Sleepy faces, tired eyes.

I did not convince you, gentlemen? Starr asked quietly. Do you think I am being too harsh in my expressions? He leaned back in his chair. “Um… riot,” Starr said slowly, enjoying every word. “Yes, that word doesn’t sound very pleasant, does it, gentlemen?” Maybe you know another word? Starr shook his head, leaning forward, a cipher rustling in his hands.

- "Returned to the base after the raid on the Lafoten Islands," Starr read aloud. - Fifteen forty-five - passed the boom; sixteen ten - cars are stalled; sixteen thirty - lighters approached the board with food and supplies; a mixed team of combatants and stokers was appointed to unload barrels of lubricating oil; sixteen fifty - reported to the commander that the stokers refused to obey the orders of Chief Petty Officer Hartley, then Chief Petty Officer Hendry, Lieutenant Engineer Grierson and Engineer Captain Third Rank Dodson; the instigators, apparently, firemen Riley and Petersen; seventeen zero-zero - disobedience to the commander of the ship; seventeen fifteen - the foreman and the chief foreman of the military police were attacked in the performance of their official duties. – Starr looked at those present and continued: - What duties? When trying to arrest the instigators?

Wally nodded in agreement.

“Seventeen fifteen,” continued Starr, “the sailors stopped work, apparently in solidarity with the stokers. No violent measures were taken; seventeen twenty-five - the commander turned to the crew by radio, warning of the consequences; ordered to resume work; the order was not executed; seventeen thirty - Reported to Commander aboard the Duke of Cumberland, assistance requested."

Starr lifted his head again and looked coldly across the table at Vallery.

By the way, why did you contact the commander? Because your Marines...

These are my orders,” Tyndale interrupted Starr sharply. – How could it be used against the sailors of the Marines, who sailed with them for two and a half years? No, it couldn't be done. There has never been a feud between sailors and foot soldiers on the Ulysses, Admiral Starr. They've always been friendly… One way or another,” Tyndale added dryly, “it's likely that the Marines would have refused to oppose the sailors. And don't forget, if we used our marines to put down this... rebellion, the Ulysses, like a warship, would be finished.

Starr glared at Tyndall and turned back to the cipher.

- “Eighteen thirty - a detachment of marines arrived from the Cumberland, the landing of the detachment on the ship was not prevented; an attempt was made to arrest six to eight instigators; the stokers and sailors put up vigorous resistance; the bloody skirmish in the poop quarters and in the stokers' and machinists' quarters continued until nineteen zero zero; firearms were not used, but two people were killed, six were seriously injured, thirty-five - forty were slightly injured.

Well, gentlemen, perhaps you are right. There was irony in Starr's voice. "Riot" is not the right word. Fifty wounded and killed. "Massacre" - that's how you should call what happened.

But neither the words themselves, nor the tone in which they were spoken, caused any reaction. All four were still stone-faced.

The admiral's face darkened even more.

It seems to me, gentlemen, that you misunderstand what happened. You have been away from this world for too long, and everything appears to you in a distorted form. Do I need to remind senior officers that in wartime, the personal should fade into the background. The fleet, the homeland - this is everything, both the first and the last.

Starr tapped his fingers on the table, as if to emphasize the importance of what he was saying.

Righteous God, - he said, - the fate of the whole world is in the balance, and you are mired in trifles and in the most unscrupulous way endanger the world.

Senior assistant commander Captain 3rd Rank Turner smiled sardonically.

“Yes, you speak beautifully, dear Vincent,” he thought, “beautifully. The whole thing, however, is reminiscent of a scene from a Victorian drama. The most intense episode is definitely too emotional. Too bad Vincent is not an MP, he would be a godsend for the ruling party in government. Perhaps the old man is too honest for such a role.

The instigators will be found and punished. Strictly punished. Starr's voice was harsh. - In the meantime, the fourteenth group of escort aircraft carriers, as planned, will leave for a rendezvous in the Danish Strait, but not on Tuesday, but on Wednesday at ten-thirty. We have already sent a radio message to Halifax and delayed the ships' departure to sea. You will leave at six zero zero tomorrow. Starr looked at Tyndall. “Please, Admiral, report this to all your ships immediately.

Tyndale made no reply. His rosy-cheeked, wrinkled, usually cheerful face was sad this time. He looked at Vallery, thinking of the anguish that must have been for this kind and sensitive man. But Vallery's expression showed nothing but weariness. Tyndall swore juicy to himself.

It seems to me, gentlemen, that we have nothing more to say, - Starr said calmly. “It would be foolish to convince you that you have a pleasure trip ahead of you. You know what happened to the last three convoys PQ Seventeen, F R Seventy One and F R Seventy Four. I am afraid that we do not yet have the means to deal with acoustic torpedoes and glide bombs. Moreover, according to our intelligence in Bremen and Kiel (this is also confirmed by recent events in the Atlantic), enemy submarines, when operating against convoys, are tasked primarily with striking at escort ships ... Maybe the weather will be your salvation.

Vengeful old devil, thought Tyndale, come on, come on, enjoy yourself.

At the risk of being accused of being melodramatic…” Starr had to stop and wait while Turner suppressed a sudden fit of coughing, “we can say that Ulysses is presented, so to speak, with a chance to redeem himself. Starr moved away from the table. - Then, gentlemen, it will be possible to talk about transferring to the Mediterranean Sea, but for now - the escort of convoy ef-er-seventy-seven to Murmansk at any cost. Starr fell silent again. His last words clearly sounded malice. “The crew of the Ulysses must understand that the navy will never tolerate disobedience of orders, dereliction of duty, riots and mutinies.

Nonsense!

Starr shifted in his chair in surprise. The fingers of his hands, clutching the ends of the armrests, were white with tension. Looking around, he fixed his eyes on the ship's doctor, Major Brooks, whose unusually blue eyes were full of anger under thick gray eyebrows.

Brooks's anger was also noticed by Tyndale. Seeing the doctor's flushed face, Tyndall took a deep breath and was about to intervene, but Starr's warning gesture made him give up his intention.

Nonsense! Brooks said clearly. - Nonsense - that's what I said. You said, "Let's be frank," so, sir, I want to be frank. "Dereliction of Duty, Revolt, and Calls to Sedition". What didn't you just say! I think you need to find other words. God only knows what strange analogies and conclusions allow you to equate what happened yesterday on the Ulysses with the only set of rules of conduct well known to you. - Brooks fell silent for a moment, and in the silence that followed, everyone heard the sonorous trill of the boatswain's whistle - apparently from a passing ship. “Tell me, Admiral Starr,” Brooks went on, “how do you think the madmen should be treated?” To resort to flogging, as in the Middle Ages? Or maybe it's better to drown them? Don't you think that one or two months of keeping a patient with ... tuberculosis in a punishment cell - The best way cure him of this serious illness?

What the hell are you talking about, Brooks? Starr asked angrily. What about tuberculosis? What are you trying to say? Explain. Starr tapped his fingers impatiently on the table. The arches of his eyebrows drew together. “I hope, Brooks, you will give an explanation for your rude attack.

I'm sure Brooks didn't mean to offend anyone," Vallery interjected. He only expresses...

Please, captain of the first rank," Starr interrupted him. “I think I can somehow appreciate Brooks' words myself. Starr smiled slyly. “So go on, doctor.

Brooks looked calmly at Starr, as if considering whether or not to continue the conversation.

I can hardly explain my rude attack, - said Brooks, smiling dryly. His sarcastic tone, his underhand hint, did not escape Starr, who blushed a little. “But I will try to explain my thought,” Brooks went on. “Perhaps I can do a good deed.”

Brooks sat silently for a few seconds, leaning on the table and running a hand through his thick silver hair. Then he raised his head sharply.

When was the last time you went to sea, Admiral Starr? - he asked.

Last time? Starr grumbled. “Why are you interested in this, Brooks, and what does it have to do with our conversation?”

The most direct. Please answer my question.

It seems to me that you are well aware, Brooks, that since the beginning of the war I have been in the operations department of the headquarters naval forces in London. What are you implying, sir?

No hints. Your honesty and courage are beyond suspicion. I was only trying to establish a fact. Brooks moved over to the table. “I've been a doctor, Admiral Starr, for over thirty years. Maybe I'm not such a good doctor, I'm not familiar with the latest achievements of medicine, but I cannot deny myself the knowledge of people - modesty is inappropriate now - in the knowledge of their psychology. "You have been away from this world for too long, and everything seems to you in a distorted form" - these are your words, Admiral Starr. Distance means isolation, and your hint is partly correct. But the fact is, sir, the world is not alone. There are several such worlds. The North Sea, the Arctic, routes to Russia, where ships go darkened - all these are worlds that are not like your world. You have no idea about these worlds. You are distant from our world.

Whether in anger or surprise, Starr grunted and was about to say something, but Brooks spoke quickly again:

The conditions there, in our world, are incomparable to anything in the history of wars. Convoys to Russia, sir, are a completely new thing. This person has never experienced...

Brooks finished and glanced through the thick glass window at the gray waters and coastal hills of Scapa Flow. Nobody said a word.

People, of course, can and do adapt to new conditions. Brooks spoke almost in a whisper. “But that takes time, gentlemen, a lot of time. A person cannot withstand sudden changes in the environment. Neither spiritually nor physically. Of course, you can try, but very soon there will be a limit. Force a person to go beyond that limit, and the unexpected can happen. I deliberately say "unforeseen" because I do not know what form the breakdown will take, but it will be necessary. It can be a physical, mental and moral breakdown. But one thing I know for sure: the crew of the Ulysses was forced to reach the limit and step over it.

That's interesting," Starr said skeptically. “Very interesting and even instructive indeed. Unfortunately, your theory, and this is nothing more than a theory, is not substantiated.

Brooks looked sternly at Starr.

No sir, it's not a theory and I didn't make it up.

Nonsense, purest nonsense,” Starr grumbled angrily. - Everything is quite clear. Your arguments are wrong. Starr leaned forward and raised his index finger. - Contrary to your opinion, there are simply no big differences between the escort of convoys to Russia and ordinary actions at sea. Can you name at least one feature that distinguishes operations in northern waters from operations in other parts of the world?

No, sir, Brooks replied calmly. – But I would like to point out one fact that is often forgotten. Fear is a natural feeling. But fear can overwhelm a person. In my opinion, nowhere does this feeling manifest itself with such force as when escorting convoys in the Arctic. The tension of physical and spiritual forces can break any person. If people are in tension for a long time, sometimes for seventeen days in a row, if every day reminds them of imminent danger, if ships sink and people die every day ... you must eventually understand that these are people, not machines. This does not happen without consequences. Doesn't the admiral know that after the last two campaigns, nineteen officers and sailors have been sent to a hospital, to a psychiatric hospital?

Brooks rose to his feet, resting his palms on the polished table. His angry gaze bored into Starr.

Hunger depletes a person's strength, slows down his reaction, suppresses the will to fight and even the desire for self-preservation. Are you surprised, Admiral Starr? Hunger. You probably think that this is impossible on well-equipped and well-equipped modern ships? It's not, Admiral Starr. You send convoys when the sailing season in Russian waters is already over, when the nights are longer than the days. People have to stay at combat posts for twenty hours a day. And do you think that in such conditions it is possible to provide people with normal nutrition? After all, the entire staff of the galley is forced to keep watch in the cellars, at the guns or participate in the elimination of damage on the ship. And so on for several weeks in a row. On one dryer. Brooks nearly spat in frustration.

“He talks like Socrates,” Turner noted happily to himself. “Give him some pepper.”

Tyndale nodded approvingly. Only Vallery felt uncomfortable. And not because of what Brooks said, but because of what Brooks said. He, Vallery, was in command of the ship, and he, not Brooks, should have been the one to talk about it.

Fear, extreme tension, hunger. Brooks' voice dropped to a whisper. - All this breaks a person, kills him.

Do you know, Admiral Starr, what it is like for people there between Mayen Island and Bear Island on a February night? You probably don't know. Do you know what thirty degrees of frost is in the Arctic, when the sea is not yet ice-bound? Do you know how a person feels when, at thirty degrees below zero, from the North Pole or from Greenland, a bone-chilling wind begins to blow, when the deck of a ship is covered with several hundred tons of ice, when people are constantly in danger of frostbite, when a ship crashes huge waves, and the spray hits the deck in the form of ice hail, when even the batteries of flashlights do not work due to the low air temperature? Do you know this, Admiral Star? Brooks threw words like arrows. He hit Star with them like a hammer. “Do you know what it means not to sleep for several days in a row?” This is a hard, painful struggle... Each of your brain cells is strained to the limit... You are, as it were, on the verge of insanity. Are you familiar with these sensations, Admiral Star? This is a terrible torture, and a person is ready to give everything, just to be able to forget himself and fall asleep.

In addition, Admiral Star, fatigue. Constant lack of energy. These feelings do not leave you for a minute. This is partly the result of low temperatures, partly a consequence of abnormal working conditions. You know how exhausting it is for a person to be on a swinging deck for several hours, and our guys have to be in such conditions for months. Strong winds are a constant companion of Arctic routes. I can show you a dozen young people who have become old people.

Brooks stood up abruptly and paced the salon. Tyndale and Turner looked at each other, then at Vallery, who was staring at his clenched hands. Star seemed to have disappeared from the salon for a moment.

It's a deadly vicious circle,” Brooks continued. - The shorter your sleep, the stronger the fatigue, the more acutely you feel hunger. All this suppresses people both physically and morally. Opens the way for disease.

A few months ago, I had a presentiment that people's patience was about to burst. More than once I reported this to the head of the medical service of the fleet, twice appealed to the Admiralty, but no one took effective measures. In response, we heard only words of sympathy: lack of ships, lack of people ...

The last hundred days have finished the job. Those were the days of hell. Not a day of vacation on the beach. We were in the port only twice - to replenish ammunition. Fuel and products were taken at sea, from aircraft carriers. And all other days - cold, poor food, danger and suffering. God knows, sir, Brooks shouted. We're not machines!

Brooks approached Starr.

I hate to talk about this in the presence of the ship's commander, but after all, every officer, except for the captain of the first rank Vallery, knew that the mutiny, as you call what happened, was brewing and would have happened a long time ago if not for Vallery. I have never seen such deep respect from the crew for the commander of the ship, such devotion, Admiral Star.

Tyndale and Turner muttered something in agreement, while Vallery remained silent.

Alistair McLean

Her Majesty's Cruiser Ulysses (Polar Convoy)

Follow me, friends! Not too late

Open completely different shores.

Swing your oars, hit the waves

Loud-boiling; for my lot

As long as I'm alive, sail straight into the sunset

There, where the stars splash in the ocean.

Perhaps we will be swallowed by the abyss of waters,

Throw it on the Island of Happiness, perhaps

Where the valiant Achilles will meet us again...

Not everything is lost, let the losses be countless;

Let us not be the same, and do not return those days,

When the whole world lay at our feet;

Let it fade under the onslaught of fate

Fire of hearts, all the same our covenant:

Fight and seek, find and never give up!

Alfred L. Tennyson (1809-1892)

Translation by I. Kubersky

Dedicated to Gisela

I am indebted to my elder brother, Ian L. McLean, captain-instructor, for his advice and assistance in the production of this book.

For the avoidance of doubt, there is no connection between the British navy cruiser Ulysses, described in the novel, and the recently converted Ulster-class destroyer of the same name, which was commissioned in early 1944. , approximately twelve months after the events described in the novel. None of the ships that were in Scapa Flow or participated in the convoy have any connection with ships of the same name that have operated before or are currently in the Royal Navy.

SUNDAY

(afternoon)

With a leisurely gesture, Starr pressed the smoldering end of his cigarette into the ashtray.

“How much determination and inflexibility in this gesture,” thought the commander of the Ulysses, Captain First Rank Vallery. He knew what would happen now, and the piercing bitterness of defeat drowned out the dull pain that had been squeezing his forehead all these days. But for just one moment. Vallery was tired to such an extent that nothing else touched him.

I'm sorry, gentlemen, sincerely sorry, - Starr barely smiled with thin lips. - Let me assure you that in the circumstances the Admiralty made the right and justified decision. However, your... uh... unwillingness to understand our point of view is regrettable.

After a pause, he held out his platinum cigarette case in turn to the four officers seated at the round table in Rear Admiral Tyndall's quarters. The four heads swung from side to side at once, and the grin touched the Vice Admiral's lips again. Taking out a cigarette, he tucked the cigarette case into the breast pocket of his gray striped double-breasted jacket and leaned back in his chair. There was no longer a trace of a smile on his face, those present could easily imagine the more familiar to their eyes glitter of gold galloons on the uniform of Vice Admiral Vincent Starr, Deputy Chief of Staff of the Naval Forces.

When I flew from London in the morning,” he continued in a flat voice, “I felt annoyed. That's it, annoyance. Because I... I'm a very busy person.

The First Lord of the Admiralty, I thought, was only wasting my time. And not only for me, but also for myself. I'll have to apologize to him. Sir Humphrey was right. As always...

In the tense silence, the click of a lighter was heard. Leaning against the table, Starr continued in an undertone:

Let's be completely honest, gentlemen. I had every reason to count on your support, and I intended to look into this incident as soon as possible. I said incident? he chuckled wryly. - Said too weakly. Rather, rebellion, gentlemen, high treason. It is hardly necessary to explain what this means. And what do I hear? He glanced around at the table. - The officers of the fleet of his majesty, the flagship among them, sympathize with the rebellious crew!

He's going too far here, Vallery thought wearily. "He wants to provoke us." The words and the tone in which they were spoken implied a question, a challenge to be answered.

But there was no answer. All four seemed apathetic, indifferent to everything and strangely similar to each other. The faces of the sailors were gloomy and motionless, cut with deep folds, but their eyes looked calm.

You do not share my convictions, gentlemen? Starr continued without raising his voice. - Do you find my choice of epithets too ... uh ... harsh? He leaned back. - Um ... "mutiny." - Slowly, as if savoring, he uttered this word, pursing his lips, again looked around at those sitting at the table. - Indeed, the word is not very euphonious, is it, gentlemen? You would give it another definition, wouldn't you?

Shaking his head, Starr leaned over and smoothed the paper in front of him with his fingers.

- “Returned after the raid on the Lofoten Islands, he read the code. - 15.45 - Booms passed. 16.10 - Inspection of cars completed. 16.30 - Provisions and equipment are loaded from lighters moored along the lag. 16.30 - A mixed group of sailors and stokers is dispatched to load barrels of lubricants. 16.50 - The ship's commander was informed that the stokers refused to follow the orders in turn of Chief Petty Officer Hartley, Petty Officer Gendry, Lieutenant Engineer Grirson, and, finally, Senior Mechanical Engineer. The instigators are believed to be stokers Riley and Peterson. 17.05 - Refusal to comply with the order of the ship's commander. 17.15 - While on duty, the head of the guard and the non-commissioned officer on duty were attacked. Starr looked up.

What exactly are the responsibilities? When trying to arrest the instigators?

Wally nodded silently.

- «17.15 - The deck crew stopped work, apparently out of solidarity. No violent action was taken. 17.25 - Message from the commander on the ship's broadcast network. Warning about possible consequences. Order to resume work. Order not executed. 17.30 - Radiogram to the commander aboard the Duke of Cumberland asking for help. Starr lifted his head again, looked coldly at Vallery.

By the way, why did you contact the admiral? Do your marines...

It was my order,” Tyndall cut him off sharply. “Would I have ordered my Marines to move against the men they had served with for two and a half years? Ruled out! On my ship, Admiral Starr, there is no squabbling between crew and Marines. They've been through too much together... At any rate," he added dryly, "it's likely that the Marines would have refused to carry out such an order. Do not forget that if we used our marines against the crew and they pacified this ... er ... riot, then the Ulysses would cease to exist as a combat unit.

Alistair McLean

Her Majesty's Cruiser Ulysses (Polar Convoy)

Follow me, friends! Not too late

Open completely different shores.

Swing your oars, hit the waves

Loud-boiling; for my lot

As long as I'm alive, sail straight into the sunset

There, where the stars splash in the ocean.

Perhaps we will be swallowed by the abyss of waters,

Throw it on the Island of Happiness, perhaps

Where the valiant Achilles will meet us again...

Not everything is lost, let the losses be countless;

Let us not be the same, and do not return those days,

When the whole world lay at our feet;

Let it fade under the onslaught of fate

Fire of hearts, all the same our covenant:

Fight and seek, find and never give up!

Alfred L. Tennyson (1809-1892)

Translation by I. Kubersky

Dedicated to Gisela

I am indebted to my elder brother, Ian L. McLean, captain-instructor, for his advice and assistance in the production of this book.

SUNDAY

(afternoon)

With a leisurely gesture, Starr pressed the smoldering end of his cigarette into the ashtray.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen, I'm truly sorry," Starr barely smiled with his thin lips. “Let me assure you that under the circumstances the Admiralty made the right and justified decision. However, your... uh... unwillingness to understand our point of view is regrettable.

“When I flew from London in the morning,” he continued in a flat voice, “I felt annoyed. That's it, annoyance. Because I... I'm a very busy person.

The First Lord of the Admiralty, I thought, was only wasting my time. And not only for me, but also for myself. I'll have to apologize to him. Sir Humphrey was right. As always...

In the tense silence, the click of a lighter was heard. Leaning against the table, Starr continued in an undertone:

Let's be completely honest, gentlemen. I had every reason to count on your support, and I intended to look into this incident as soon as possible. I said incident? he smiled wryly. - Said too weakly. Rather, rebellion, gentlemen, high treason. It is hardly necessary to explain what this means. And what do I hear? He glanced around at the table. “The officers of His Majesty’s fleet, the flagship among them, sympathize with the rebellious crew!”

He's going too far here, Vallery thought wearily. "He wants to provoke us." The words and the tone in which they were spoken implied a question, a challenge to be answered.

“You do not share my conviction, gentlemen?” Starr continued without raising his voice. “Do you find my choice of epithets too…uh…harsh?” He leaned back. “Um… mutiny.” - Slowly, as if savoring, he uttered this word, pursing his lips, again looked around at those sitting at the table. - Indeed, the word is not very euphonious, is it, gentlemen? You would give it another definition, wouldn't you?

Shaking his head, Starr leaned over and smoothed the paper in front of him with his fingers.

- "We returned after a raid on the Lofoten Islands," he read the cipher. - 15.45 - Passed the booms. 16.10 - The inspection of the machines was completed. 16.30 - Provisions and equipment are being loaded from lighters moored in a lag. 16.30 - A mixed group of sailors and stokers is dispatched for loading 4:50 p.m. - The ship's commander is informed that the stokers have refused to follow orders in turn from Chief Petty Officer Hartley, Chief Petty Officer Gendry, Lieutenant Grierson, and finally Chief Mechanical Engineer. The instigators are presumably firemen Riley and Peterson. 17.05 - Refusal to comply with the order of the commander of the ship. 17.15 - While on duty, the head of the guard and the non-commissioned officer on duty were attacked. Starr looked up.

- What exactly are the responsibilities? When trying to arrest the instigators?

Wally nodded silently.

- "17.15 - The deck crew stopped work, apparently out of solidarity. No violent action was taken. 17.25 - Appeal from the commander on the ship's broadcast network. Warning of possible consequences. Order to resume work. Order not executed. 17.30 - Radiogram to the commander aboard the Duke Cumberland "with a request for help". Starr lifted his head again, looked coldly at Vallery.

“By the way, why did you contact the admiral?” Do your marines...

“That was my order,” Tyndall cut him off sharply. “Would I have ordered my Marines to move against the men they had served with for two and a half years? Ruled out! On my ship, Admiral Starr, there is no squabbling between crew and Marines. They've been through too much together... At any rate," he added dryly, "it's likely that the Marines would have refused to obey such an order. Do not forget that if we used our marines against the crew and they pacified this ... er ... riot, then the Ulysses would cease to exist. as a combat unit.

Looking closely at Rear Admiral Tyndall, Starr turned back to his notes.

- "18.30 - Marine assault group dispatched from the Cumberland.

There was no resistance to her. Attempt to arrest six rioters and eight suspected instigators. Furious resistance from the stokers and the deck crew, fierce skirmishes on the aft deck, in the stoker's cockpit and in the engine cockpit, which lasted until 19.00. Firearms were not used, but two were killed, six were seriously wounded, 35...40 people were less seriously injured."

Starr fell silent and crumpled the paper in his hearts, “You know, gentlemen, perhaps you are right. There was mockery in his voice. “Riot” is hardly the right definition. Fifty dead and wounded... "Fierce fight" - will be much closer to the truth.

But neither the words, nor the sharpness of tone, nor the deadly irony made any impression. All four officers of the Ulysses sat motionless, with an expression of utter indifference.

Vice Admiral Starr frowned.

- I'm afraid, gentlemen, you have a somewhat distorted idea. about what happened. You have been here for a long time, and isolation distorts the essence of things. Should I remind you, senior officers, that in wartime personal feelings, trials and tribulations mean nothing? The fleet, the fatherland - this is what should always and everywhere be in the first place.

English writer's book Olister McLean a work of fiction. All the characters in the novel and the cruiser "Ulysses" itself are just a figment of the writer's creative imagination. In a brief introduction by the author, McLean, in order to avoid possible misunderstandings, specifically stipulates that between His Majesty's ship Ulysses, to which his work is dedicated, and any genuine ship of the British Navy, as well as between other ships operating in the novel and their namesakes there is nothing in common in the British navy.

Nevertheless, McLean's novel is of interest primarily not as a work of art, but as a journalistic work of a historical nature, telling about events very similar to those that took place during the Second World War. In particular, about the history of convoys with military cargo from the USA and England to the northern ports Soviet Union Arkhangelsk and Murmansk.

The story told in the novel His Majesty's Ship Ulysses , similar to tragic fate one Anglo-American convoy en route in the summer of 1942 to our northern ports. This fate is not only tragic, but also instructive. And although much of it is shrouded in a veil of secrecy to this day, the main thing is no longer a secret. Here is the essence of this unsightly business.

The allied convoy under the conditional index PQ-17 left Hval Fjord (Iceland) on June 27, 1942. It consisted of 37 transports (three of them soon returned to the port) and 21 escort ships. In addition to direct protection, the convoy was covered by two large groups of warships: the close support forces consisted of a squadron of cruisers (two British and two American cruisers), and in the cover group a detachment of two battleships, one heavy aircraft carrier, two cruisers and nine destroyers. The forces of protection, support and cover were more than sufficient to repel the blows of any forces and means of attack available to the enemy in this theater.

For most of its long journey, the convoy passed safely, although it was twice discovered by German aircraft and submarines. But on the night of July 4, the enemy delivered the first blow to him with torpedo bombers from Norwegian airfields. The raid was repulsed quite successfully, the enemy managed to damage only one ship, which was then sunk by escort ships so as not to tie up the convoy. In the middle of the same day, fascist aviation made a second raid and achieved more serious results, sinking three transports. The situation began to get worse. The convoy was slow-moving, non-maneuverable. The Germans did not let him out of their sight. Every minute one could expect new blows from them. And they were not slow to follow. The Nazi command threw its strike force against the convoy in the North Atlantic battleship"Tirpitz". The fate of the convoy was in the balance. Only the quick actions of the Allied high naval command, primarily the British Admiralty, could save him. A powerful covering force was relatively close, and if they had been ordered to act, the convoy would have nothing to fear. Instead, the Admiralty made an absolutely incredible move, ordering the escort ships to leave the convoy, and the transports and tankers "to make their own way to Soviet ports." In other words, a panic cry was thrown: Save whoever you can! And here the terrible began. Abandoned to the mercy of fate, many slow-moving transports and tankers became easy prey for Hitler's submarines and aviation. This happened even before the convoy approached the borders of the Soviet operational zone. The Soviet command knew nothing about the order of the Admiralty and therefore was able to provide assistance only to individual ships.

The order of the Admiralty, inexplicable for every sane person, led to a tragic end of the 34 ships that were part of the PQ-17 convoy, only 11 reached their destination. As indicated by the unpublished in 1959 History of the British Navy , more than 122 thousand tons of the most important cargo, so necessary at that time for the Soviet Armed Forces, fuel, weapons, ammunition, equipment, perished in the depths of the sea. Hundreds of British and American sailors also died.

Of course, losses in war are inevitable. Maritime transport in wartime is fraught with all sorts of surprises and is often very dangerous. In them, it happens, ships, cargoes, people perish. But the defeat of the PQ-17 convoy cannot be attributed to the category of inevitable military losses. Here is a special case. For a long time only a very small group of people in London and Washington knew about the true motives for the actions that guided the British and American admirals in this case. And only a few years later the veil of secrecy lifted a little. Behind it was a monstrously dirty, ugly story.

The PQ-17 convoy was deliberately sacrificed by the leadership of the British Admiralty and personally by the Prime Minister of England, Winston Churchill, who knew about this operation and blessed it. British naval strategists tried to use this convoy as bait, fatty piece in order to lure the German battleship Tirpitz into the sea.

This largest warship of the Nazi fleet was transferred by the Nazi command to the North Atlantic with the aim of operating on communications leading to the Arctic ports of the Soviet Union. Together with other ships, in particular with battleships and cruisers, which, under rather foggy circumstances, were able to escape from the French port of Brest blocked by the British and in broad daylight, under the very nose of the English fleet, aviation and coastal batteries, pass through the English Channel, "Tirpitz" was supposed to be the decisive force in disrupting the transportation of allies in the northern zone Atlantic Ocean. The Nazis attached great importance to these operations. They sought at any cost to worsen the position of the Soviet Union, to create unbearable conditions for us to wage the struggle.

The British and American leaders looked at the situation with different eyes. For them, the departure of the Nazi ships from the central part of the Atlantic was at that time a well-known relief. Hitler's raiders, abandoned to disrupt transportation from the United States to England, created enormous difficulties in Anglo-American communications. The main lair of the Nazi surface ships operating in this area was Brest. And there is nothing surprising in the fact that the Allies allowed the most dangerous ships of the Nazis to go from there to another theater, the leaders of the British Admiralty and their colleagues from Washington counted on the fact that with the departure of fascist battleships and cruisers from Brest, the situation in the Central Atlantic would become more favorable for them. . As for the security of sea lanes leading to the northern ports of the USSR, this was considered a less important issue in London. Moreover, there were quite a few people in the highest positions in the headquarters of the allies who were extremely negative about the questions of assistance to the Soviet Union and tried to disrupt this assistance at any cost. At that time, it is recognized in the official manual published by the US military department in 1945 Mankind at War, the most important were the routes leading from America to England, as well as the communications of the allies in pacific ocean and the Mediterranean, and therefore for convoys going to the northern ports of Russia, it was possible to allocate only a few merchant ships and a very meager number of escort ships .

In the future, events did not turn out at all as planned by the British and American political and military leaders. Hitler's plans for a lightning-fast defeat of the Soviet Union failed. The entire Soviet people rose up in a heroic struggle. Our army and navy struck at the vaunted Nazi troops. On the Soviet-German front, the best forces of Nazi Germany were pinned down, and the enemy's elite divisions found their death. Here the fate of Europe and the whole world was decided. This was the main front of the war. The ruling circles and the military command of the United States and Britain were forced to seriously reassess their values and revise their plans. And although very strong anti-Soviet tendencies remained in the highest spheres of the Western allies, the course of events forced the Anglo-American leadership to strengthen contacts with the Soviet Union. During this period, the Arctic communications leading from the USA and England to our shores become one of the most important. And here the Anglo-American naval leaders had to become, to some extent, victims of their own short-sighted policies. The Nazi ships launched by them into the North Atlantic have now become for them literally a sword of Damocles. Especially dangerous was the Tirpitz, which had powerful artillery and heavy armor and surpassed the British and American ships in the theater in its capabilities. The Anglo-American command faced a problem: how to get rid of the Tirpitz? It was very difficult to fight him, because the German command carefully guarded this ship, releasing it into the sea only when it was sure of its complete safety.

And then the British Admiralty conceived secret operation, the purpose of which was to lure the Tirpitz into the sea under the blow of superior Anglo-American forces. An important place in this operation was assigned to the PQ-17 convoy. His lot was the role of bait for the German battleship. With this task, the ships of the convoy set out on their inglorious journey. Infamous because nothing came of the idea of the English strategists. The convoy perished almost completely, the ships and the cargo, which was extremely important for the Soviet Union, perished. Hundreds of British and American sailors found their end in the cold Arctic waters. And the Tirpitz managed to slip away then. Due to the poor performance of British naval intelligence, its exit from the base was not detected in a timely manner, the Anglo-American squadron sent into an ambush aimed at the ship very badly, and in last moment and completely "due to the uncertainty of the situation" left the patrol area. All this led to the creation of a very difficult situation: abandoned to the mercy of fate, the unprotected convoy PQ-17 was bound to die. The Tirpitz, not intercepted by anyone, freely entered the defenseless ships.

The situation was saved by the Soviet submarine K-21 under the command of the Hero of the Soviet Union N.A. Lunin. Having intercepted the German battleship, she launched a torpedo attack on it, seriously damaged it and forced the Nazis to abandon further operations against the convoy.

Such is the truth about the useless death of the PQ-17 convoy, the truth about the dark deeds of the Anglo-American command and the ruling circles, many of whose representatives were engaged in actions that had nothing to do with the fulfillment of the allied duty towards the USSR, and by any means tried to weaken our country and its Armed forces.

Commander at the time Northern Fleet, now deceased, Admiral A.G. Golovko in his memoirs characterizes the actions of the British Admiralty and the whole gloomy, painful, having no valid explanations and no justifications history with the PQ-17 convoy:

The tragic fate of the PQ-17 is a logical consequence of traditional British policy. And yet, the behavior of the British command in the story with the convoy does not fit into the framework of allied relations so much that you simply wonder ... The fate of the 17th convoy was sealed long before it sailed from Iceland: it was to become a major bait for the Tirpitz, which the British Admiralty was mortally afraid ... The fate of 34 transport ships, their people and cargo destined for the Soviet Union, did not interest the organizers of the hunt, it was more important for them to seduce the Tirpitz with easy prey, lure it away from shelter, then lean in with superior forces and destroy .

It is interesting that in assessing the actions of the British command in the case of the PQ-17 convoy, Admiral A.G. Golovko in his memoirs also refers to MacLean's book His Majesty's Ship Ulysses , in particular, to the author's notes in it about the fate of this convoy, the plans of the Admiralty and the strike on the Tirpitz by the Soviet submarine K-21.

The novel brought to the attention of the Soviet reader Olister McLean tells, according to its author, not about the PQ-17 convoy. This is not a historical essay, not a chronicle, but a work of art. McLean even makes a footnote where he talks about the fate of the 17th convoy, in order to thereby emphasize that he is not talking about this, but about some other case. And yet the novel His Majesty's Ship Ulysses in many respects historical, a lot of it is taken from those July days, when in the cold waters of the North Atlantic the vessels of the convoy PQ-17 abandoned to the mercy of fate by the English unfortunate strategists rushed about and died.

Reading McLean's novel, one involuntarily draws parallels between the fate he describes of the FR-77 convoy, led by the cruiser Ulysses, and what happened to PQ-17. Convoy FR-77 is also on its way from Iceland with important cargo to the northern ports of the Soviet Union. It includes transports and tankers. The route followed is almost the same as the path taken by the PQ-17. He is subjected to the same blows, suffers the same losses. And, most importantly, the British Admiralty has prepared for him the same fate as the PQ-17, he must play the role of a decoy duck, the role of a sacrificial figure in an unreliable, doomed gambit with the Nazi command. The place of action is the same, the time is the same, the participants are the same.

In the proximity of the tragic story described by McLean to the facts that really took place in the summer of 1942, shameful and double-dealing facts, one of the serious merits of the novel His Majesty's Ship Ulysses . McLean strives more or less objectively to show the behind-the-scenes machinations of British politicians, the complete disregard for their allied duties. On his best pages, McLean is truthful and honest, frank and realistic.

In the novel, some aspects of the life of the English fleet are quite successfully outlined, portraits of sailors are given, and their relationships are shown. I remember the pages where McLean talks about one of the top leaders of the British Admiralty, a soulless politician and schemer, Vice Admiral Vincent Starr. The episode where the sailors of the cruiser Ulysses learn about the betrayal committed against them, that they were doomed to death in cold blood, is strongly written. The unconditional merits of the novel include the fact that McLean, although sometimes with reservations, but quite objectively speaks of the lack of rights of the English sailors, and of the arbitrariness on the part of the officers. In this regard, the very first pages of the novel are indicative.

Realistic and memorable pages include a disgusting story, hero which is the soulless sadist and criminal Second Lieutenant Karslake. While cleaning the paravane, one sailor's hand gets into the winch drum. The man is in danger of death. Nearby sailor Ralston activates the foot brake. The man was saved, but the electric motor of the winch burned out. This is enough for Karslake to rush at Ralston with his fists.

But of course, MacLean, a bourgeois writer, cannot be completely consistent in his attitude to the events he describes, to the actions of his heroes. Somewhere he slips from realistic positions to half-truths, keeps something back, embellishes something. And then the convincing and memorable pictures are replaced by tinsel pictures and pseudo-heroic lies in the style of the soldiers' catechisms of the past.

Take at least the story with the order Save whoever you can!. In the case of the PQ-17 convoy, this order played a decisive role. The convoy ships were asked to disperse and go to the Soviet ports on their own, and the escort ships to move to the west. McLean decides fix the story. In his novel, convoy FR-77 is not supported only by covering forces. The guard ships are doing their duty to the end. In the most difficult conditions, the Ulysses cruiser and other escort ships bravely fight against superior enemy forces and die heroically one after another in an unequal battle. The Ulysses itself engages a Hipper-class cruiser. And no matter how McLean tries to describe the feat of the ship in this episode more vividly, the reader remains indifferent. The battle looks too much like a popular print: a mortally wounded cruiser with a flag fluttering at the end of the yard rushes forward to the enemy and, broken by a direct hit of a heavy shell, burning and breaking, with furiously spinning propellers goes under the water.

Of course, the author of a work of art, even if he writes about the true facts of history, always has the right to literary conjecture, to some kind of generalization. He has the right to omit or add something, even embellish something or, on the contrary, weaken it. But if a writer wants to remain true to historical truth, he must not distort it. Unfortunately, this is an essential requirement. Olister McLean does not always comply. And he does this, of course, not by accident.

There is another significant shortcoming of the novel that cannot be overlooked. His Majesty's Ship Ulysses , the lack is no longer historical (although MacLean's historical liberties also have a clear political orientation), but a social one. We are talking about how MacLean draws the nature of the relationship between representatives of various classes in the English fleet, in particular on the cruiser "Ulysses". Everyone is clear on the true foundations on which relations are built between commanding officers and privates in the armed forces of any bourgeois state. These relations are primarily class relations. The sailors and officers in the armies of the imperialist states are almost always representatives of the antagonistic classes. Hence the inequality and mutual hostility. The English Navy is no exception in this respect. On the contrary, in this fleet, perhaps more than anywhere else, both the caste of the officer clique and its lordly disregard for lower deck to the sailors.

Olister McLean in his novel, he repeatedly touches on the problem of the relationship between officers and sailors in the English fleet. He introduces the reader not only to Karslake. To match this villain, the head of the ship's police "Ulysses" is a stupid martinet and sadist Hastings. True to the image of the cold, arrogant and soulless Admiral Starr. The short-sighted and apathetic commander of the Tyndall formation is typical. And yet the author seeks to convince the reader that most of the officers in the English fleet are people of a different stock. Karslakes, Hastings, Starrs, Tyndales, he says, are typical, they are and will be. But they don't make the weather.

In support of this thesis, McLean draws a number of images of completely different officers, talented, brave, and most importantly, kind and sympathetic. Real fathers are commanders. Outwardly rude and even harsh, but with a heart of gold. Such is the commander of the cruiser "Ulysses" Vallery. Such are many other officers of the ship, Chief Officer Terrier, Navigator Carpenter, Ship's Doctor Brooks, and his assistant Nicholas, Chief Engineer Dodson. Such are the officers of other ships, the captains of the transports of the convoy.

No one, of course, will take the liberty of asserting that all the officers of the English fleet without exception, especially during the years of the last war, were Karsleyks or Starrs. In the armed forces of England, as well as in other bourgeois countries of the anti-Hitler coalition that fought against Hitlerism, at that time there was a certain part of honest, conscientious officers devoted to the common cause. These people enjoyed authority among their subordinates, and the sailors and soldiers, perhaps, respected some. But even in those special years in the armed forces of the United States and England, and even more so in such a privileged branch of the armed forces as the English fleet, there were always much fewer such people than those whom we with good reason we call it an officer clique, completely cut off from the rank and file, from the people. And if we talk about the rule and exceptions in relation to the fleet of England, then the rule has always been and is Starrs and Karslakes. There is no doubt about this. McLean knows this too. And despite this, he tries to convince the reader of the opposite.

Take, for example, the image of the Ulysses commander he created. Elderly, balanced, alien to pose and drawing, mortally tired and sick, but infinitely brave and true to his work, this officer draws like this Olister McLean. But all these qualities do not exhaust its characteristics. Vallery has McLean a true father-commander, ready for anything for the sake of the sailors. He, without hesitation, puts his career and reputation at stake, defending the stokers of the instigators of the rebellion before Admiral Starr. Completely ill, he finds the strength to go down to the artillery cellar and cheer up the sailors. Throughout the novel, he closely follows the fate of the orphaned sailor Ralston, repeatedly talks with him and defends him in every possible way from the unfair attacks of Lieutenant Karslake.

As it should be with authors of this kind, the sailors of the cruiser do not have a soul in their father-commander. Rude and stingy with words, stokers at the first opportunity, without hesitation, give for their old man life and before death they still repent of the rebellion they have committed. The sailors, walled up in the artillery cellar, also without hesitation, open the irrigation valve there and heroically go to their death, since commander said so. In general, a complete set of stencil manifestations sailor's gratitude to the father-commander.

Soviet people know that during the years of World War II, when the peoples of the countries of the anti-Hitler coalition fought together against a common enemy, the armed forces of our Western allies also had to experience many difficulties. Among the British and American sailors there were courageous people who believed in the rightness of their cause and spared no effort in the fight against the enemy. And we give them credit. But how can there be any comparison of what the inhabitants of the USA and England, British and American soldiers and sailors, endured with the greatest trials that befell the peoples and soldiers of the Soviet Union! English and American sailors had to endure severe trials more than once. But they were measured in days, weeks. And then the ship went to the base. People rested there, ate normally. In those battles and campaigns that fell to the lot of the Allied ships, personnel usually didn't do much damage. Published in the USA History of the American Navy it is indicated, for example, that for the whole of 1942, US merchant ships lost 3,200 people. What does this figure mean in comparison with hundreds of thousands of Leningraders, including soldiers of the Leningrad Front and sailors of the Baltic Fleet, who gave their lives in this difficult year. In what ways can one measure the trials that befell our soldiers and sailors on the Rybachy Peninsula, on the Karelian or Volkhov fronts, when they lived for months in snow and swamps, walked through half-frozen swamps, did not know rest day or night! And the heroic defenders of Sevastopol and Odessa, the heroes of Smolensk and Novorossiysk, the nameless defenders of thousands of nameless heights!

Limited views Olister McLean, the narrowness of his literary and human horizon seriously impoverishes the novel His Majesty's Ship Ulysses , reduce its literary and cognitive value.

bourgeois writer Olister McLean could not, yes, of course, and did not want to tell the whole truth about the affairs of the British fleet during the Second World War, about dishonor and even betrayal, which marked some of the actions of the British Admiralty in relation to the Soviet Union and our Armed Forces. Nevertheless, McLean's novel speaks volumes. The writer was not afraid to tell the truth in the main. This is the value of his work. The novel is based on a real event, described with unconditional skill. And it hits, hits hard on the Pharisees and double-dealers from the British Admiralty and higher spheres, according to the myth of true gentlemanship political intriguers from official London, lifts the veil on one of the dirty deeds of the Anglo-American allies during the last war. Written with pain and bitterness, such pages of the novel make a strong impression. The Soviet reader will find in the book Olister McLean kind words about our people, about our army.

The foregoing allows us to say that the novel His Majesty's Ship Ulysses overall an interesting piece. It has significant shortcomings stemming from the views and class position of the author. But the main thing is that it has a truthful, realistic basis. Reading a novel Olister McLean, the Soviet reader will pay tribute to the courage of ordinary British and Americans, will once again recall the great trials that befell the freedom-loving peoples during the years of the struggle against Hitlerism, the heroic deed of the Soviet people.

Captain 2nd rank T. Belashchenko

Instead of a preface

Pregnancy and childbirth