M.S. _Vindictive_ as she lies to-day, a stark, black profile,
against the sea haze of the harbor amid the stripped, trim shapes of the
fighting ships which throng these waters. That wilderness of debris,
that litter of the used and broken tools of war, lavish ruin and that
prodigal evidence of death and battle, are as obvious and plentiful here
as there. The ruined tank nosing at the stout tree which stopped it has
its parallel in the flame-thrower hut at the port wing of _Vindictive's_
bridge, its iron sides freckled with rents from machine-gun bullets and
shell-splinters; the tall white cross which commemorates the martyrdom
of the Londoners is sister to the dingy, pierced White Ensign which
floated over the fight of the Zeebrugge Mole.
[Sidenote: The _Iris_ and the _Daffodil_ which shared the honors.]
Looking aft from the chaos of her wrecked bridge, one sees, snug against
their wharf, the heroic bourgeois shapes of the two Liverpool
ferry-boats (their captains' quarters are still labelled "Ladies Only")
_Iris_ and _Daffodil_, which shared with _Vindictive_ the honors and
ardors of the fight. The epic of their achievement shapes itself in the
light of that view across the scarred and littered decks, in that
environment of gray water and great still ships.
[Sidenote: The three cruisers that were sunk at Zeebrugge.]
Their objectives were the canal of Zeebrugge and the entrance to the
harbor of Ostend--theirs, and those of five other veteran and obsolete
cruisers and a mosquito fleet of destroyers, motor-launches and coastal
motor-boats.
Pages:
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125