BOTTLING UP ZEEBRUGGE AND OSTEND

THE OFFICIAL NARRATIVE


[Sidenote: The _Vindictive_ as she lies in Ostend Harbor.]

Those who recall High Wood upon the Somme--and they must be many, as it
was after the battles of 1916--may easily figure to themselves the decks
of H.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