Opening with a nighttime military ambush from a Royal Navy gun boat, Basil Dearden’s The Ship That Died of Shame (US: PT Raiders) depicts the transformation of three young men from heroic soldiers to criminal smugglers in the wake of humanity’s deadliest conflict. When their postwar prospects whither away, Bill Randall (George Baker), George Hoskins (Richard Attenborough), and Birdie (Bill Owen) decide to purchase and rehabilitate their neglected Navy boat and go into the transportation business. As the amoral Hoskins begins making new connections and increasing the risks, the crew are soon smuggling counterfeit bills, firearms, and even a child murderer; Randall’s resistance to these new criminal stakes may come too late. Virginia McKenna plays Randall’s war bride Helen whose death early in the film is what destabilizes Randall’s moral compass to begin with (“After that, there was only the ship,” he says). Dearden creates scenes of suspense (when the inspectors come aboard, when Hoskins approaches the dark shack) and some outstanding natural violence, most notably the final sequence when the storm hits. Perhaps most surprising, however, is the pathos elicited by the little ship, its moonlit hull glistening quietly on the water’s surface at night, its aching groans of disapproval when the crew gets in too deep, its creaking sadness as if it knows its life is almost over.