CHAPTER XIII

THE SECOND ATTEMPT AND RETURN. PREPARING FOR THE THIRD ATTEMPT.

REWRITING THE ORDERS. GERMAN OPTIMISM

I will not weary the reader with a repetition of our life at the

Swin--the second edition differed little from the first. There were

still chances of a new start during the present period. The weather,

however, was most unkind. We summoned up all the patience that we

could muster. The news from the battle front in France was becoming

increasingly serious. We felt that somehow or other, we didn't quite

know how, a successful operation on our part might help to stem the

German advance. If only we could get started!

At last our second chance came. The wind had changed back to a

northerly direction. The "stand-by" order was received. "Carry on"

followed. Once again we started off, as enthusiastic as ever; if our

previous determination had not increased it was because no increase was

possible.

_Hindustan_ cheered us out again, and, in our inmost thoughts, we

thanked them. Soon after we had cleared the Swin anchorage a destroyer

hove in sight and signalled that she had a letter for _Vindictive_. We

ordered her to stop a couple of miles ahead of us and transfer the

letter by boat. Commander Brock came on board with it; we had thought

he had been prevented from joining us. "We must push in to-night,"

{154} that was the tenor of the letter. The message was passed round

the ship and down the line of blockships. It reflected our own

feelings--"We must push in to-night." Once again we passed many

merchant vessels with their crews crowded on deck to view the unusual

spectacle which we made. The wind had gradually increased in strength,

an uncomfortable sea was rising. The prospects appeared none too rosy

for the small craft. Some twenty miles had been covered when the

almost inevitable became a certainty--the operation was once more

postponed.

The open sea had become so rough as to render the use of small craft

quite impracticable. There was nothing for it, back we had to go once

more.

Little enough was said on the subject this time; we were learning to

hide disappointment. The reaction from all our hopeful optimism caused

us to wonder if any other chance would be offered us. Surely this

enterprise was not to be stillborn after all the signs of life that it

had shown. It is advisable, perhaps, not to analyse our thoughts too

fully, but they tended to breed fatalism. We tried to look upon the

turn of events as a "rub of the green"; we endeavoured to appear

unruffled.

The men were wonderful; their behaviour was beyond praise. If there

was any discontent it was carefully hidden. The Vice-Admiral visited

us at the earliest opportunity and explained the situation to the

officers and men. That gracious act was enormously appreciated; we all

felt, more than ever, that if _he_ could not bring off this operation

nobody would ever do so.

The first period of favourable tides was over. The {155} next period

would not commence yet awhile. Drills and practices were restarted. A

second battleship was sent to the Swin to relieve the congestion in the

_Hindustan_. _Vindictive, Iris_, and _Daffodil_ had no accommodation

for the Marine storming parties, which had to be transferred to the

_Hindustan_ and her sister depot. The waiting period was not wasted.

[Sidenote: Lessons of First Attempt]

Opportunity now offered for embodying in the instructions the various

suggestions for improvements. Each was fully discussed and considered

from all points of view. Even further experiments with the artificial

fog were carried out. It was then decided to rewrite all the previous

instructions which required modification as a result of the experience

gained during the two attempts. This was a welcome change from the

confined life on board. The Admiralty clerk reappeared at the

Admiral's office.

A most important discussion was held concerning the chances of the

secret having leaked out. At first sight one might have thought that

the operation ought to be cancelled altogether, for had we not been

seen, and almost certainly reported, by a large number of neutral

vessels? Such an eventuality was by no means outside the pale of

probability, and we also had to reckon with the chances of having been

seen by German aircraft and submarines. Nevertheless, this obstacle to

our future success was imaginary rather than real. To begin with, what

value would have been placed on such reports? It would naturally

depend upon the source of the information.

Submarines or aircraft might have been mistaken; anyhow, their reports

could hardly provide conclusive evidence of our intentions.

Information received by {156} the Germans from neutral sources might

have been specially intended to mislead. The probable effect of such

latter "intelligence" depends to a certain extent on the psychology of

the recipient. The Germans were past-masters at chicanery; the first

inclination of such individuals is to disbelieve others; a prevaricator

always labours under that disadvantage.

There could, therefore, be no _certainty_ that our two abortive

attempts had given birth to a new obstacle. History relates many

failures resulting from the imagination of difficulties which had no

real existence in fact. One of the best examples, curiously enough,

was connected with the Walcheren expedition, where the imaginary

difficulties had loomed large, only a few miles to the eastward of

Zeebrugge. It is no exaggeration to state that if we had allowed our

imagination to create half the obstacles which might have existed we

should never have decided upon the enterprise at all.

The drafting, typing, duplication, and distribution of the new editions

of instructions were completed in two or three days. The dates of the

next period were worked out and a new time table issued.

It has already been shown that the chances of being discovered _en

route_ largely depended upon the number of daylight hours which would

be involved in the passage of the expedition. Daylight, in itself,

does not necessarily imply a high degree of visibility. If the weather

were sufficiently misty to reduce visibility, without militating

against safe navigation, daylight would not be so disadvantageous. In

making out the period, therefore, we included an extra day at its

commencement for use if misty weather obtained; {157} should that day

be clear it would be inadvisable to attempt the enterprise. That

decision was strictly in accordance with the principles on which the

enterprise was based. But principles are intended as guides; it is a

false idea that they may never be departed from. In an operation of

this description, depending upon a rather delicate combination of

circumstances and conditions, it was necessary to consider just how far

we should be justified in ignoring one unsuitable condition if all

others were favourable.

Once more we summoned up all the patience that we could muster.

[Sidenote: Their Lordships Visit]

The First Lord of the Admiralty, Sir Eric Geddes, accompanied by Sir

Rosslyn Wemyss, who had relieved Lord Jellicoe as First Sea Lord, paid

a visit to _Vindictive_ and some of the blockships; it is probable that

they were exceedingly struck at the optimism of all concerned.

An incident, illustrating the spirit of the men, may be worth

recording. It came to my ears that certain of the engine-room

personnel did not propose to remain below whilst the ship was alongside

the Mole; as they put it "they intended to land on the Mole for a run

round." Of course, that would never do, so the ship's company were

informed that, however much their spirits might actuate their

intentions, any man who left his post during the action would be

summarily dealt with. They knew what that meant. Shortly afterwards

some stokers requested to interview their officer. The interview was

somewhat as follows: "Me and my mates, sir, understand that we ain't

allowed to leave the stokehold and have a go at the Hun," said their

spokesman. "Of course not," {158} interposed the officer; "you would

be deserting your post in action." "Well, sir," continued the stoker,

"we wants to know if we may _guard the prisoners_ in the stokehold."

The request was not granted; it spelt too much discomfort for the

prisoners.

Soon the first possible date drew near.

In view of the eventual results it may be of interest to recall the

fact that on April 19th (three days before we actually started) Admiral

von Capelle, Secretary for the German Navy, made a speech in which he

said: "Even the greatest pessimist must say that the position of our

opponents is deteriorating rapidly, and that any doubt regarding the

final success of the U-boat war is unjustified."

I wonder if von Capelle remained an optimist much longer.

Another German of high culture and position had previously said,

"Questions of right or wrong, justification or no justification, do not

concern us. The chief thing is that we are the stronger, and that if

anyone questions this fact we should smite him on the mouth till he

grows wiser."

Well, we _did_ question the fact, and not only questioned it, but we

put it to the test.

{159}

PART II

{160}

"_One crowded hour of glorious life

is worth an age without a name_"

{161}

FOREWORD

A brief introduction to Part II of this book may assist the reader.

The previous chapters have dealt with the general idea of the

operation, the more important details of the plan, and the preparatory

work involved.

We are now approaching the actual events which occurred during the

operation itself as carried out at the third attempt.

For reasons stated in Part I, Chapter III, I do not propose to deal

further with the enterprise at Ostende; the preparatory work for the

blocking of that place has been fairly well covered in the foregoing

pages. As a matter of historical interest a list of all vessels

employed in the simultaneous operations at Zeebrugge and Ostende is

given in the Appendix. Doubtless the Ostende story will be told in due

course by one of those who took part in the operations at that place.

Unless the reader's mind has clearly grasped our intentions as

portrayed in the Zeebrugge plan it may be difficult to understand the

connection between the actual events which occurred. The more

important details of the plan have already been described, but chiefly

under the consideration of each separate phase of the enterprise, or of

the duties of each class of vessel, rather than as related items of one

complete operation. It may be advisable, therefore, to describe

briefly the various phases, in their proper sequence, {162} showing the

relation between them, even if this involves some repetition; thus the

way will be paved to a detailed narrative of the several events which

occurred, and the reader, whilst following any particular item, will be

enabled to keep the whole picture in view.

Briefly, then, the main points of the plan for the blocking of

Zeebrugge were as follows:

The expedition was to cross the seas during the afternoon and evening,

stopping for a few minutes about twenty miles from its destination for

the purpose of disembarking the surplus crews of the blockships. At

about this time the first of the diversions, in the form of aerial

attacks, were to commence, to be shortly followed by the opening of the

long-range bombardments. Meanwhile the expedition, working to a

prearranged time table, was to approach the coast.

At given intervals during the approach small craft were to be detached

to carry out the duties of smoke screening, of diversionary attacks, of

locating the destination, and of dealing with enemy vessels which might

emerge from their harbours or which were already at sea.

Immediately following the long-range bombardment, the storming vessels,

having located the Mole, were to proceed alongside the high outer wall

and land their storming parties over it to attack the Mole

batteries--this constituting the main diversion of the enterprise. A

few minutes later, the submarines, having steamed into place beneath

the railway viaduct, were to blow up the railway. Twenty minutes after

the storming vessels were due to arrive {163} alongside, the blockships

were to pass round the end of the Mole and were to make their dash for

the canal entrance, running the gantlet of the shore batteries, whilst

the Mole attack was in full swing. On arriving in the canal the

blockers were to turn and sink their ships across the navigable

channel. Rescue craft were to follow the blockships for the purpose of

rescuing the crews of the latter. Meanwhile, the various diversions,

the smoke screening, and the work of the inshore supports, were to be

continued sufficiently long to enhance the chances of the rescue.

After an hour or so from the commencement of the attack on the Mole all

forces were to withdraw.

The foregoing brief summary serves to indicate that at any given moment

after the approach had once commenced there would be many different

events taking place simultaneously.

For instance, early in the proceedings there would be a combined aerial

attack and long-range bombardment whilst the main expedition, under

cover of darkness, was silently approaching over the mine-fields,

momentarily expectant of discovery by the enemy's patrol vessels.

Later--say, ten minutes after the storming vessels had arrived at the

Mole--the storming parties from _Vindictive, Iris_, and _Daffodil_

would be attacking the northeastern end of the Mole; _Vindictive's_

howitzers would be bombarding the shore batteries; small craft would be

bombing the central part of the Mole; submarines would be blowing up

the railway viaduct; the submarine's crews would be pulling away for

dear life; other small craft would be laying their smoke screens close

off the enemy's batteries and {164} attacking German vessels on the

inner side of the Mole; the blockships would be nearing the Mole in

preparation for their final dash; patrol vessels, in support, would be

guarding the attackers from enemy craft; star shell and search-lights

would be illuminating the darkness; the booming of heavy guns, the

yapping of quick-firers, and the crashing of shell would provide a

fitting accompaniment.

The enterprise was to be decidedly intensive. If all went well the

defence should certainly be mystified and not a little worried by the

time the blockships arrived in the picture.

Thus, and thus only, should we be following out the maxim of Stonewall

Jackson, "Always mystify, mislead, and surprise the enemy."

The enterprise divides itself naturally into three main phases, namely,

the Approach, the Attack, and the Retirement; as far as practicable

Part II will describe each of these phases in turn, whilst dealing more

or less separately with the work of each class of vessel.

{165}

CHAPTER I

THE START. THE OVERSEA PASSAGE

The break of dawn on April 22, 1918, the first of the seven days of our

tabulated period, found many anxious individuals on deck discussing the

chances. There was an almost entire absence of wind; the sea was

consequently as smooth as the proverbial mill-pond. The general

feeling amongst us was that of straining-at-the-leash. We had suffered

two major disappointments during the previous period, but we

instinctively felt that we had now arrived at a period of maximum

anxiety--we knew that the coming week would settle the matter once and

for all. Presently light airs from the northward began to catspaw the

glassy surface and to increase in frequency and strength until they

settled down to a real northerly breeze. Our hopes ran high, but the

matter of visibility still claimed our attention. There was the usual

early morning mist; this was quickly dispelled when the sun rose above

the horizon. It soon became evident that our hopes for misty weather

were to be denied us. By 8 A.M. the visibility was extreme, as they

say in meteorological circles; one's horizontal range of vision from

shipboard was only limited by one's height of eye above the level of

the sea. This condition, to say the least of it, was disconcerting.

It would be high tide at Zeebrugge and Ostende soon after midnight.

Arrival at such an hour would {166} entail making much of the oversea

passage in broad daylight, and this, as previously mentioned, would in

turn lead to grave risk of being seen by the German patrols, whether

the latter were in the air, on the sea surface, or submerged keeping

periscope watch. Although this disadvantage might even lose us the

element of surprise on which we had concentrated so much effort, any

postponement of our departure until the morrow would entail a reduction

of our available period by one-seventh. The armchair critic who knows

nought of such matters cannot easily conceive either the difficulty of

arriving at such decisions, or the weight of responsibility which lies

on the shoulders of the man by whom the decision must be given.

Early in the forenoon it was evident that all conditions except

visibility were in favour of starting our third attempt. Our hopes ran

high in spite of the fact that previous experience had shown us how

fickle the weather could be. Somehow we felt that our chance had come

at last.

We were in telephonic communication with Dover via a lighthouse in the

vicinity of our anchorage. Perhaps the word "communication" rather

exaggerates the actual facts of the case. The line apparently passed

through a certain holiday resort whose telephone exchange was below par

and whose operative, in the kindness of her heart, generally managed to

connect at least four persons simultaneously on our particular line.

The resulting cross talk, further confused by the eternal argument

between the tidal stream and the telephone cable, and our impatience at

any and every interruption, with its resultant increase of knowledge of

the vernacular to the lighthouse {167} crew, were hardly conducive to

easy conversation on important matters. "Harold" was particularly

exasperating that morning. Having fixed "Mabel" for lunch in a couple

of hours, he apparently thought it necessary to 'phone her details of

his past.

[Sidenote: Order to Start]

To the Vice-Admiral at Dover fell the responsibility of deciding

whether we should start or not. After a discussion on the telephone

the die was cast--we were ordered to "proceed in execution of previous

orders." The order was passed to the ships and the requisite

preparations were put in hand immediately. We raised steam without

delay. Baggage, final letters, and all unnecessary paraphernalia were

disembarked. Once again determination and expectancy had expanded into

enthusiasm. The time for "action" had arrived.

I do not think we had any feelings of anxiety now except with regard to

the weather. Surely nothing would prevent the culmination of all our

hopes at this eleventh hour. No suggestion of failure ever occurred to

us. Our confidence in the face of the many obstacles, when considered

in cold blood months afterwards, may have seemed to be almost an

impertinence. Everybody knew exactly what was expected of him. There

was no actual excitement except that inseparable from intense

enthusiasm. Last-minute orders or signals were not required,

everything worked just as smoothly as if we had been merely starting

off on a picnic.

Engines were reported "ready" shortly after lunch. Just before

weighing anchor I had gone below to don my sea-boots and other

appropriate "togs"; on reappearing on deck I found several officers

grouped for {168} a final snapshot and was requested to join them.

Alas, that was indeed the last photograph for several of them. The

cheering which had taken place on both the previous attempts was

indulged in once again as the ships proceeded to sea and was only

eclipsed by the cheers which welcomed the survivors to Dover on the

following day.

Of the earlier part of the oversea trip little need be written.

_Vindictive_ took _Iris_ and _Daffodil_ in tow and was closely followed

by the blockships. In due course the Dover forces were sighted; the

combined force, accompanied by aeroplanes, formed on _Vindictive_,

which was "Guide of the Fleet."

The fast motor boats and the two submarines were taken in tow, and the

Vice-Admiral, with his flag flying in the Destroyer _Warwick_, directed

the whole movements and gave the signal to proceed as soon as all were

formed up. The visibility had already decreased and sufficient clouds

were massing overhead to revive our anxieties about the weather. Light

squadrons which had preceded us for the various duties of "supporting"

or "bombarding," etc., had not reported any enemy patrol craft.

[Illustration: VICE-ADMIRAL SIR ROGER J. B. KEYES K.C.B., K.C.V.O.,

D.S.O., R.N. (missing from book)]

On board each ship eleventh-hour preparations were being made--such as

rigging stations for attending the wounded, distributing first-aid

packages, passing hoses along in case of fire, fusing bombs and shell,

testing electric circuits, providing candle lamps in case of electrical

failures, grouping ammunition round the guns, donning clean

underclothing as a guard against septic wounds, darkening ship to

prevent any warning of our approach, placing spare charts in

alternative positions, testing smoke-screen {169} apparatus and

flame-throwers, and many other such things.

[Sidenote: St. George for England]

Before darkness set in a signal was received from the Vice-Admiral

reading "St. George for England." It was reported to me as being a

personal signal to myself, but I subsequently ascertained that it was

intended as a general signal to be passed down the line of ships. It

was made in the semaphore code from _Warwick_ and has often been

misquoted as a signal hoisted with alphabetical flags.

One garbled version described the signal as having been "flashed to all

ships just before reaching the Mole." This story of a flash-light

having been used just when the ships were endeavouring to take the

enemy by surprise under cover of darkness is really too fantastic to

pass uncontradicted. Believing it to be a private signal, a reply was

determined upon. The reply[1] to the Admiral's signal, judged by the

ordinary standards, was somewhat impertinent, but impertinence was in

the air that afternoon. Incidentally my signalman substituted the word

"darned" for "damned" and, when corrected, spelt the word "dammed" as a

compromise.

[1] May we give the Dragon's tail a damned good twist.

Our prearranged time table had laid down the exact minute at which we

were to pass through certain lettered positions, the latter being

marked by buoys placed by the surveying officers mentioned previously.

Position G was to be the parting of the ways, namely the position at

which the forces destined for the inshore attacks on Zeebrugge and

Ostende should separate _en route_ for their respective destinations.

That position was so chosen that the forces should {170} arrive at

their destinations simultaneously, making due allowance for direction

and strength of the tidal stream and for actual ship-speed through the

water. This idea of simultaneous operations at the two places was not

the only important factor for consideration; it was also necessary that

all other phases of the attack, such as long-range bombardments and

aerial attacks, should synchronise with the movements of the

blockships. It was, therefore, necessary to either work exactly to

schedule as laid down in the time table or else inform all units of any

change in the zero time; the latter being the minute at which

_Vindictive_ should pass through position G. This in turn necessitated

forecasting the zero time as a result of the observed times of passing

the previous positions. We had left position A a few minutes ahead of

time and passed through position D with barely a minute in hand. "No

alteration of zero time" was therefore communicated to all units.

After passing position D the whole assembly of vessels stopped for a

few minutes for the triple purpose of disembarking surplus blockship

crews, ascertaining the exact direction of wind (this information being

required for the use of the smoke screens), and reforming into

"approach order" after casting off the tow of the submarines and small

craft. It was then pitch dark, the moon being entirely obscured by

clouds. It has been stated elsewhere that the _Intrepid_ did not

disembark any of her surplus crews. The small vessel detailed to take

these men failed to appear owing to a breakdown; this must have pleased

the _Intrepid's_ surplus crew who, it will be remembered, had shown a

strong disinclination to leave their {171} ship. To some extent

_Thetis_ and _Iphigenia_ were similarly placed; history relates that

when the small vessels arrived alongside many members of the surplus

crews could not be found, so anxious were they to complete the

operation which they had begun so well.

No time was lost in reforming the squadron and we started off again for

position G. At about this time all conditions of wind and sea were

still favourable, but slight rain had begun to fall and to reduce the

already very limited visibility. The rain thus provided the first of

the incidents which could not be foreseen.

The result of the rain was twofold. Firstly, it somewhat delayed the

commencement of the long-range bombardment on Zeebrugge owing to the

reduction in visibility rendering the monitor's position doubtful.

Secondly, and far more important, it acted very adversely against the

use of aircraft. The difficulty and danger of flying in wet weather is

too well known to need enlargement here, but the difficulty of locating

the positions which were to be bombed was enormously increased. As

related elsewhere our aerial bombers had made a magnificent attack on

the occasion of our first attempt and they had become none the less

determined to render a good account of themselves when the operation

finally took place. Imagine their intense disappointment. It was not

difficult for those who knew the splendid work of our Air Force to

realise that they would stop at nothing to achieve their object. In

spite of all the difficulties it is impossible to conceive of greater

determination than was shown, but the rain rendered the attack

impossible. The losses amongst these very gallant {172} airmen

amounted to a high percentage of those who started on their errand.

At position G the Ostende blockships parted company; inwardly we wished

them the best of luck.

The main portion of the oversea passage having been completed, the

"Approach" now commenced.

{173}

CHAPTER II

THE APPROACH.

After zero time the remaining units kept in close company until such

times as each, according to their respective instructions, was deputed

to proceed independently to carry out its particular duty.

The force was preceded by the Vice-Admiral in _Warwick_ with some half

a dozen other craft in company ready to fall upon and destroy any enemy

patrol vessels which might be encountered. We were now steaming

through the German mined areas and were hoping against hope that no

mines would be touched to the main detriment of the element of

surprise. If any mine had exploded the enemy could not have failed to

have their suspicions aroused. The rain gradually increased and the

wind became more fitful. Hot soup was distributed to the men in

_Vindictive_ at about 10.30 P.M. and a "tot" of rum was served out

about an hour later to those who desired it.

About fifty minutes before midnight the hawser with which _Vindictive_

was towing _Iris_ and _Daffodil_ suddenly parted. It was then too late

to retake these vessels in tow and, indeed, it would have been a

difficult and dangerous task in the rain and inky darkness with so many

vessels in close company, to say nothing of the loss of time and the

obstacle to accurate navigation. Speed had to be somewhat eased

temporarily to allow _Vindictive_ to drop back to her original {174}

position relative to the other vessels. In accordance with the plan

the blockships eased speed for the purpose of arriving at the Mole some

twenty minutes after _Vindictive_.

We were momentarily expecting to meet the German patrol vessels and to

be discovered from the shore. Suddenly a light-buoy was seen. A

hurried bearing laid down on the chart agreed exactly with the reported

position of a buoy off Blankenberghe. Incidentally a captured prisoner

had recently stated that this buoy had been withdrawn or moved

elsewhere, but we had promulgated its original position to all

concerned because we suspected that this particular individual was a

disciple of Ananias. This agreement between our position by

"dead-reckoning" and that of the buoy was decidedly heartening, for we

had obtained no "fix" for several miles and were running through a

cross tidal stream of doubtful strength.

The difficulties attached to forecasting the movements of tidal streams

were borne out in the case of the bombarding monitors, H.M.S. _Erebus_

and _Terror_. In addition to being somewhat hampered by the low

visibility resulting from the rain, these vessels, on arrival at their

firing positions, discovered that the tidal stream was flowing in

exactly the opposite direction to that anticipated; this, in turn,

caused some delay in opening fire, but, as events subsequently showed,

the delay was of no great consequence. The bombardment was carried out

without any further hitch. The Germans do not appear to have been able

to locate the monitors until the firing was nearly completed. The few

German shell which burst in the {175} vicinity of the firing ships were

doubtless directed by some means of sound-ranging and

direction-finding. On finishing the bombardment the monitors took up

their positions for covering the subsequent retirement of the attacking

forces.

It may be stated here that, barring the impossibility of aerial attack,

the delay in commencing the long-range bombardment, and the parting of

the towing hawser, there was no hitch of any kind sufficient to alter

the general idea of the enterprise. Everything was carried out to

schedule time.

[Sidenote: In Touch with the Enemy]

Soon after passing the Blankenberghe light-buoy the enemy appeared to

suspect that something more than a bombardment was afoot. Star shell

were fired to seaward and searchlights were switched on. That was

exactly what we had hoped for. If only they would continue to

illuminate the atmosphere our navigational difficulties would be

enormously reduced. The star shell were extraordinary. They burst

with a loud report just overhead and lit up our surroundings to the

maximum of the then visibility. Much to our surprise no enemy vessels

were encountered or even seen; presumably the enemy set the greater

dependence on their mines.

To the southward, that is, between us and the shore, our

smoke-screeners had laid down a "pea-soup" fog. Nothing was to be seen

in that direction except the glare of searchlights and of gun flashes,

the latter being presumably directed against the fast motor boats which

had run into the anchorage behind the Mole for the purpose of

torpedoing vessels secured alongside. At this stage the wind died away

completely and the rain was heavier than ever.

{176}

In _Vindictive_ we took up our action stations. Our battery guns had

been instructed not to open fire until it was certain that our

individual presence had been discovered. The guns in the fighting-top

on our foremast were in readiness to engage. Rocket men had been

stationed to fire illuminating flares for the purpose of locating the

Mole. The storming parties were under cover awaiting the order to

storm the Mole. The cable party were in the forecastle standing by to

drop anchor at the foot of the high wall. Other parties with wire

hawsers were stationed to assist the _Daffodil_ in her important task

of pushing _Vindictive_ bodily alongside. Crews were standing by the

bomb-mortars and flame-throwers for clearing the Mole before sending

the stormers over the wall. The Engineering and Stokehold personnel

were at their stations below for giving immediate response to all

requirements from the conning positions. The first

lieutenant--Lieutenant-Commander R. R. Rosoman, R.N.--was in the

conning tower, from where the ship was being steered by the

quartermaster, in readiness to take over the handling of the ship

immediately I was rendered _hors de combat_. It was a decidedly tense

period, but there were others to follow.

[Sidenote: Nearing the Goal]

At a given moment by watch-time _Vindictive_ altered course towards the

Mole--or rather towards the position where it was hoped to find the

Mole. Almost immediately we ran into the smoke screen. _The wind had

now changed to an off-shore direction_, diametrically opposite to that

on which the screening plans had been based. I thought at the time

that this smoke screen was the thickest on record--that opinion was

changed later.

{177}

The visibility at this time can hardly have amounted to a yard--the

forecastle was invisible from the bridge. The firing of star shells

and guns, and the flashing of searchlights became more frequent.

_Vindictive_ was being conned from the flame-thrower hut on the port

end of the conning-tower platform. This position was especially

suitable in that it plumbed over the ship's side and thus provided a

very good outlook for berthing at the Mole. There was a curious

absence of excitement. Even the continued repetition of the question,

"Are you all right, sir?" from my first lieutenant--a prearranged idea

to ensure a quick change over of command--became monotonous. Nothing

had yet been seen of the Mole from _Vindictive_. This comparatively

quiet period was not of long duration.

{178}

CHAPTER III

THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE ATTACK.

A few seconds before the schedule time for the last alteration of

course--designed to take us alongside the outer wall--the smoke screen,

which had been drifting northwards before the new wind, suddenly

cleared. Barely three hundred yards distant, dead ahead of us,

appeared a long low dark object which was immediately recognised as the

Mole itself with the lighthouse at its extremity. We had turned up

heading direct for the six-gun battery exactly as arranged in the plan.

Those who know aught of navigation will realise how far this was a

fluke--probably the various errors in compass direction, allowance for

tide, etc., had exactly cancelled one another. Course was altered

immediately to the southwestward and speed was increased to the utmost.

The Mole battery opened fire at once; our own guns, under the direction

of Commander E. O. B. S. Osborne, replied with the utmost promptitude.

The estimated distance at which we passed the Mole battery was two

hundred and fifty yards off the eastern gun, gradually lessening to

fifty yards off the western gun. It was truly a wonderful sight. The

noise was terrific and the flashes of the Mole guns seemed to be within

arm's length. Of course it was, to all intents and purposes,

impossible for the Mole guns to miss their target. They literally

poured {179} projectiles into us. In about five minutes we had reached

the Mole, but not before the ship had suffered a great amount of damage

to both _matériel_ and personnel.

[Illustration: DIAGRAMMATIC SKETCH OF THE ATTACK. Drawn by Charies De

Lacy from details supplied by the Author.

A--H.M.S. Vindictive

B--H.M.S. Daffodil

C--H.M.S. Iris

D--Coastal Motor Boats

E--Steam pinnace

F--Motor dinghey

G--Submarine C3

H--S.S. Brussels

I--German destroyers

J--To Blankenberghe

K--Motor launches

L--Entanglement net boom

M--H.M.S. Phoebe

N--H.M.S. North Star

O--Position of approach channel

P--Rescue craft

Q--Rescue craft

R--H.M.S. Iphigenia

S--H.M.S. Intrepid

T--H.M.S. Thetis

U--Trenches on Mole

V--Trenches ashore

W--H.M.S. Warwick

X--The barge boom

Y--The Canal

Z--German batteries]

[Sidenote: Running the Gantlet]

Looked at from the view of a naval officer it was little short of

criminal, on the part of the Mole battery, that the ship was allowed to

reach her destination. Everything was in favour of the defence as soon

as we had been sighted. Owing to the change of wind our special

arrangements for covering the battery with smoke had failed in spite of

the magnificent work of our small smoke vessels which, unsupported and

regardless of risk, had laid the screen close to the foot of the wall,

that is to say, right under the muzzles of the guns. From the moment

when we were first sighted until arriving alongside the Mole the

battery guns had a clear target, illuminated by star shell, of a size

equal to half the length of the lighthouse extension itself.

To my mind the chief reasons for our successful running of the gantlet

were twofold, firstly, the fact that we were so close, and secondly,

the splendid manner in which our guns' crews stuck to their work. With

regard to the former, a longer range would have entailed more

deliberate firing, and this in turn would have given time for more

deliberate choice of point of aim. A few projectiles penetrating the

engine or boiler rooms, or holing us at the water-line, would have

settled the matter. The range being so short one can conjecture that

the German gunners, realising that they could not miss, pumped

ammunition into us at the utmost speed of which their guns were capable

without regard to the particular damage which they were likely to

cause. Their loss of serenity, due in the {180} first place to the

novel circumstances of the case, must have been considerably augmented

by the fact that our own projectiles were hitting the wall near the gun

muzzles--it was too much to hope that we should actually obtain any

hits on the guns themselves.

The petty officer at one of our six-inch guns, when asked afterwards

what ranges he fired at, said that he reckoned he opened fire at about

two hundred yards and he continued till close to the Mole. "How

close?" he was asked. "Reckoning from the gun muzzle," he replied, "I

should say it was about three feet!"

[Sidenote: Gun-fire from the Mole]

One can picture the situation as seen from the Mole itself. A hostile

vessel suddenly looming out of the fog at point-blank range, the

intense excitement which resulted, the commencement of fire, the

bursting of shell on the wall, the ardent desire to hit something as

rapidly and as often as possible, the natural inclination to fire at

the nearest object, namely, that part of the vessel on their own level,

and the realisation that in a few moments the guns would no longer bear

on the target. One can imagine the thoughts that were uppermost in

their minds, "Hit her, smash her, pump it in, curse those guns of hers,

don't lose a second of time, blow her to bits!" One cannot blame those

gunners. To use a war-time expression, "They had the wind up." We had

counted on that, we had concentrated all our efforts at "putting the

wind up." Yet if anybody had seriously suggested that a ship could

steam close past a shore battery in these modern days of gunnery he

would have been laughed to scorn. Yet it was easy. The reason is not

far to seek.

{181}

Those who worship _matériel_ have followed a false god. The crux of

all fighting lies with the personnel--a fact borne out again and again

on this particular night just as throughout past history. If the

German gunners had been superhuman this tale would not have been told,

but human nature, reckoned with by the attackers, was on our side; the

initiative was ours.

The material damage was very great, but, though it may sound

paradoxical, of not much importance. The upper works and upper deck of

the ship received the brunt of it. The most serious matter was the

damage to our gangways. Several were shot away and many others damaged

beyond further usefulness and, so far as could be observed at the time,

only four were left us for the work in hand. Two heavy shell

penetrated the ship's side below the upper deck. One passed in just

beneath the foremost flame-thrower hut and burst on impact. The other

came through within a few feet of the first and wrecked everything in

its vicinity. Two other heavy shell came through the screen door to

the forecastle and placed one of the howitzer guns out of action. The

funnels, ventilators, bridges, chart-house, and all such were riddled

through and through.

The damage to the personnel was exceedingly serious. Orders had been

given that the storming parties should remain below, under cover, until

the ship arrived alongside. The number of personnel in exposed

positions was to be limited mainly to those manning the guns, rocket

apparatus, and flame-throwers. The senior officers of the storming

parties, however, stationed themselves in the most handy position for

leading and directing the assault, with {182} the result that they were

exposed to the full blast of the hurricane fire from the Mole battery.

Military officers had always acted in a similar manner whatever their

instructions might be. One cannot help feeling that in any fighting

service, where discipline is based on leadership rather than on mere

driving force, officers will do the same thing. Captain Halahan,

commanding the naval storming forces, who had repeatedly told me this

was to be his last fight, was shot down and killed at the outset.

Commander Edwards, standing near him on the gangway deck, was also shot

down and completely incapacitated. Colonel Elliot, commanding the

Marine storming forces, and his second-in-command, Major Cordner, were

killed on the bridge, where they had taken up a commanding position in

full view of the gangway deck. Many others were killed or wounded.

The death of so many brave men was a terrible blow. Nobody knew better

than they the tremendous risk attached to their actions--the pity of it

was that they should not have lived to see the success for which they

were so largely responsible.

[Sidenote: Arrival at the Mole]

At one minute past midnight the ship actually arrived alongside the

Mole, one minute late on schedule time, having steamed alongside at

sixteen knots speed. The engines were immediately reversed at full

speed and the ship bumped the Mole very gently on the specially

constructed fender fitted on the port bow.

The conning position in the flame-thrower hut was well chosen, our

heads being about five feet above the top of the Mole wall. We had

previously devoted many hours to studying photographs of the Mole {183}

with the idea of recognising objects thereon. Our aerial confrères had

photographed every portion of the Mole from almost every conceivable

angle with both ordinary and stereoscopic cameras. We had also had

picture post-cards and other illustrations at our disposal. Though

none of us had ever actually seen the Mole itself we felt pretty sure

of being able to recognise any portion of it immediately. In that we

were over-confident. The smoke, the intermittent glare and flashes,

the alternating darkness and the unceasing rain, added to the

disturbance of one's attention caused by the noise and the explosion of

shell, rendered observation somewhat difficult. As far as we could see

we were to the westward of our desired position. The engines were,

therefore, kept at full speed astern and the ship, aided by the

three-knot tide running to the eastward, rapidly drifted in that

direction. When sufficient sternway had been gathered the engines were

put to full speed ahead to check her. A low building was then observed

on the Mole abreast the ship, but it was not recognised immediately as

the northeastern shed (No. 3), which we had expected to appear much

larger. The distance in the uncertain light was also very deceptive,

the building in question appearing to be situated within a few feet of

the outer wall, whereas it must have been at least forty-five yards

away.

But time was pressing. Our main diversion had certainly commenced, but

at all costs we must have it fully developed before the blockships

arrived at twenty minutes past midnight. The order was therefore given

to let go the starboard anchor. A voice tube, for this purpose, led

from the flame-thrower hut {184} to the cable deck. The order was

certainly not given _sotto voce_. But the noise at this time was

terrific. I could not be certain whether the order was received as no

answer was heard in reply. Certainly the anchor was not let go.

Meanwhile the engines were ordered at full speed astern and full speed

ahead alternately to keep the ship in position; the manner in which

these orders were carried out by the engine-room staff, under the

command of Engineer Lieutenant-Commander Bury, was admirable. No reply

being forthcoming to questions as to the delay in anchoring, Rosoman

left the conning tower and went below to investigate. The din had now

reached a crescendo. Every gun that would bear appeared to be focused

on our upper works, which were being hit every few seconds. Our guns

in the fighting-top were pouring out a continuous hail of fire in

reply. One could aptly say that we could hardly hear ourselves think.

At last I had news from the cable deck--this was a great relief as I

feared that the two heavy shell which burst between decks had killed

all the anchoring party. The starboard anchor had jammed somewhere.

It had been previously lowered to the water's edge and nothing was

holding the cable, but it refused to budge. The port anchor was,

therefore, dropped at the foot of the wall and the ship allowed to drop

astern until a hundred yards of cable had been veered. The cable was

then secured.

The ship immediately swung bodily out from the Mole. With the helm to

starboard she swung in again, but with her bows so tight against the

Mole, and her stern so far out, that the foremost gangways {185} just

failed to reach the top of the wall. With the helm amidships the ship

lay parallel to the wall, but no gangways would reach. With the helm

to port the ship again swung away from the Mole. This was an

exceedingly trying situation. Everything now depended upon the

_Daffodil_ (Lieutenant H. G. Campbell).

It will be remembered that, as a result of the towing hawser having

parted, and in consequence of our increase of speed when running

alongside, the _Iris_ and _Daffodil_ had been left behind. We knew

that whatever happened we could absolutely depend on Gibbs[1] and

Campbell making short work of any surmountable difficulty, and our

trust was not misplaced. They must have cut off a considerable corner

to have arrived as early as they did. The _Iris_ steamed past us at

her utmost speed, which was very slow, and went alongside the Mole

about a hundred yards ahead of _Vindictive_ exactly as laid down in the

Plan. Of her more anon.

[1] Commander Valentine F. Gibbs.

After we had been struggling against our difficulties alongside for

about five minutes _Daffodil_ suddenly appeared steaming straight for

our foremast in a direction perpendicular to the Mole. Campbell pushed

her nose against us, hawsers were passed to his vessel, and he shoved

us bodily alongside the Mole, exactly in accordance with the Plan.

Really he might have been an old stager at tug-master's work, pursuing

his vocation in one of our own harbours, judging by the cool manner in

which he carried out his instructions to the letter.

[Sidenote: Grappling the Mole]

Immediately the two foremost gangways reached {186} the wall they were

lowered until they rested on it. No other gangways were then

available. The order was at once passed to "Storm the Mole."

Owing to the light wind of the preceding day we had not expected to

find any swell against the wall. The scend of the sea, however, was so

heavy and so confused, as each wave rebounded, that the ship was

rolling considerably. Every time she rolled over to port there was a

heavy jarring bump which was probably caused by the bilge on the port

side of the ship crashing down on the step of the Mole some few feet

below the surface. The whole ship was shaking violently at each bump

and rolling so heavily that we were greatly apprehensive of sustaining

vital damage below the water-line.

The Stokes gun batteries had already been bombing the Mole abreast the

ship. The flame-throwers should also have helped to clear the way for

our storming parties. The order had been given to switch on the

foremost flame-thrower. Unfortunately the pipe leading from the

containers to the hut had been severed somewhere below by a shell

explosion. This was not noticed before the order was obeyed, with the

result that many gallons of highly inflammable oil were squirted over

the decks. One hesitates to think what would have happened if this oil

had become ignited.

[Sidenote: Inferno]

Incidentally the actual nozzle of this flame-thrower was shot away just

after the order to switch on had been given by the officer in charge,

Lieutenant A. L. Eastlake, attached R.E., who held the proud position

of being the sole representative of the military on board the attacking

vessels. Eastlake was the only other occupant of the hut and I don't

think he will {187} easily forget the brief period that we experienced

in that decidedly uncomfortable erection. Sparks were flying about

inside, but somehow, at the time, one did not connect that pyrotechnic

display with the fact that they emanated from the medley of missiles

passing through it. Curiously enough neither of us was hit, but our

clothing sadly needed repair--an experience which was common enough in

shore fighting, but unusual afloat where the missiles are generally

rather too large to pass through one's headgear without removing one's

head en route.

The other flame-thrower fared no better. Commander Brock was in

charge. He lit the ignition apparatus and passed down the order to

"switch on." The whole outfit of oil ran its course, but unfortunately

at the very commencement the ignition apparatus was shot away, with the

result that the instrument was converted into an oil thrower instead of

emitting a flame.

Lieutenant-Commander B. F. Adams, leading a party of seamen, stormed

the Mole immediately the gangways were placed. The only two gangways

which could reach the Mole were, to say the least of it, very unsteady

platforms. Their inboard ends were rising and falling several feet as

the ship rolled; the outer ends were see-sawing and sliding backwards

and forwards on the top of the wall. My own personal impression at the

time was that these gangways were alternately lifting off and resting

on the wall, but apparently that was not so. The fact remains,

however, that the run across these narrow gangways with a thirty-foot

drop beneath to certain death was not altogether inviting.

{188}

The first act of the advance party, in accordance with the

instructions, was to secure the ship to the wail by means of the

grappling anchors. A great struggle to do this was undertaken. The

foremost grappling anchors only just reached the Mole. Some men sat on

the top of the wall and endeavoured to pull the grapnels over the top

as they were lowered from the ship. These grapnels, by virtue of the

use for which they were designed, were heavy. That fact, combined with

the continuous rolling of the ship, made it exceedingly difficult to

control them. Rosoman and a party of men on board joined in the

struggle, but a heavy lurch of the ship broke up the davit on which the

foremost grappling iron was slung and the latter fell between the ship

and the wall.

Adams' party were followed out in great style by the remainder of the

seamen storming parties led by their surviving officers, and then by

the Marines. I propose to tell later of what occurred on the Mole

itself in so far as I have been able to gather from the parties

concerned.

[Sidenote: Work of the _Daffodil_]

As soon as it was clear that the grappling anchors had failed us owing

to the heavy swell there was no other alternative than to order

_Daffodil_ to carry on pushing throughout the proceedings.

A curious incident which has never been explained occurred just

previously. Some individual in _Vindictive_ had hailed _Daffodil_ and

called to them to shove off, "By whose orders?" came the response

shouted by Campbell from _Daffodil's_ bridge. "Captain Halahan's

orders," was the reply. As a matter of fact poor gallant Halahan had

been killed some ten minutes earlier. "I take my orders from Captain

Carpenter," {189} shouted Campbell. "He's dead," was shouted back. "I

don't believe it," responded Campbell, and incidentally he was right,

though I have not the faintest idea what he based his belief on. As

Mark Twain would have said, "the report of my death was much

exaggerated." The incident was certainly curious, but of course (this

for the benefit of those who, during the war, saw spies and traitors at

every corner) there can only be the explanation that some poor wounded

fellow must have been delirious.

Campbell had been shot in the face, but such a trifle as that did not

appear to have worried him, and he continued to push the _Vindictive_

alongside from the moment of his arrival until the whole hour and five

minutes had elapsed before we left the Mole. Originally the _Daffodil_

had been detailed to secure alongside _Vindictive_ as soon as the

latter was secured to the Mole and then to disembark her demolition

parties for their work on the Mole. That part of the plan could not be

carried out, however, though several of his parties climbed over her

bows into _Vindictive_ on their way to accomplish it.

The demolition charges had been stowed outside the conning tower ready

for use; on the passage across we had come to the conclusion that this

was a case of risking the success of the whole landing for the

furtherance of a secondary object, and the charges had therefore been

removed to a safer position. This change of arrangement was indeed

fortunate, for the deck on both sides of the conning tower became a

regular shambles during the final approach. Yeoman of Signals John

Buckley, who had volunteered to take up a position outside the conning

tower in {190} readiness to fire illuminating rockets had remained at

his post until killed. We found him there at the foot of his rocket

tube in the morning, a splendid fellow who had been as helpful in the

work of preparation as he was unflinching in the face of almost certain

death. All the signalmen except one had been either killed or

completely disabled, and almost every soul on the conning-tower

platform had made the supreme sacrifice.

On the order being given to storm the Mole the storming parties had

rushed up every available ladder to the gangway deck. At the top of

the foremost ladder the men, in their eagerness to get at the enemy,

were stumbling over a body. I had bent down to drag it clear when one

of the men shouted: "That's Mr. Walker, sir, he's had his arm shot

off." Immediately Walker, who was still conscious, heard this he waved

his remaining hand to me and wished me the best of luck. This officer,

Lieutenant H. T. C. Walker, survived.

The high wall, towering above our upper deck, was now protecting the

hull of the ship from gun-fire; no vital damage could be sustained in

that way so long as we remained alongside. The chief source of danger

from which vital damage might accrue before we had completed our work

at the Mole was that of the fast German motor boats stationed at

Blankenberghe. The latter harbour was barely five minutes' steaming

distance away, and, as the enemy would now be fully cognisant of our

position, we might reasonably expect a horde of these craft to come to

the attack with torpedo. It does not require much naval knowledge to

realise that the difficulty of avoiding torpedo fire {191} under such

circumstances would be wellnigh insuperable. Where a torpedo craft of

that description can suddenly rush in from the outer darkness a large

vessel has to depend upon remaining unseen; but of course such tactics

were now impossible, and, still further, a torpedo could not be avoided

even if seen coming towards the ship. That we were not attacked in

that manner was mainly due to the work of certain of our smaller craft

specially detailed to deal with the Blankenberghe force; former

experience of the latter also led us to believe that the German

personnel in those boats had no stomach for a fight.

[Sidenote: The Fight Aloft]

Our guns in the fighting-top were directing a murderous fire into their

special targets. Chief amongst those were the heavy gun battery at the

end of the broad part of the Mole and the lighter battery on the

lighthouse extension. In neither case could the enemy's guns bear on

the ship, and we had the advantage of taking the former battery from

the rear and giving the latter a taste of enfilading fire from its

western flank. But there was another target of importance.

Immediately abreast the ship a German destroyer was berthed alongside

the inner wharf of the Mole only eighty yards distant from the ship.

We had an uninterrupted view of the greater part of her between the two

northern sheds, her bridges showing well above the ground-level of the

Mole. Our guns in the fighting-top, in charge of Lieutenant Charles N.

B. Rigby, R.M.A., riddled that destroyer through and through. We could

see the projectiles hitting the Mole floor whenever the gun was

temporarily depressed, and then shower upon shower of sparks as they

tore through the destroyer's upperworks. The {192} vessel appeared to

have sunk, as very little of her upper deck could be seen, although we

had such an elevated view-point, but now I think it possible that the

wall protected her vitals and that she escaped complete destruction

from our gun-fire.

There seems little doubt that our fighting-top was now coming in for

the attention of most of the enemy guns. Presently a tremendous crash

overhead followed by a cessation of our fire indicated that a heavy

shell had made havoc with poor Rigby and his crew of eight men. As a

matter of fact, that shell had wrecked the whole fighting-top, killed

all the personnel except two gunners who were both severely wounded,

and dismounted one of the guns. The only survivor who was not

completely disabled--Sergeant Finch, R.M.A.--struggled out from the

shambles somehow and, without a thought for his own wounds, examined

the remaining gun, found it was still intact, and continued the fight

single-handed. He continued to serve this gun and again did great

execution until a second shell completely destroyed the remains of the

top and put Finch completely out of action. The splendid work of

Lieutenant Rigby and his guns' crews had been invaluable, and one

cannot but attribute the complete success of our diversion very largely

to these gallant men. Rigby himself had set a wonderful example; all

who knew him had never doubted that he would do so. Finch survived and

was afterwards voted the Victoria Cross by the men of the Royal Marines.

[Sidenote: The Howitzers]

As soon as the ship had been securely anchored the howitzer guns manned

by the R.M.A., in charge of Captain Reginald Dallas-Brooks, R.M.A.,

{193} commenced to bombard the targets specially assigned to them. The

German batteries on the mainland were shelling our position at the Mole

for all they were worth, but their efforts must have been hampered by

the continuous fire of our howitzers. The presence of such weapons on

board ship was, to say the least of it, most unusual. _Vindictive's_

nature had undergone an unusual change as soon as she was secured to

the Mole. Our position was known to within a few yards. Both

direction and range of the enemy's batteries had been worked out

beforehand for any position alongside the wall. We were, therefore, in

the novel situation of being able to drop heavy howitzer shell upon the

enemy's batteries less than a mile away, a decided change from ordinary

battleship target practice where ranges of ten to fifteen miles were

the order of the day.

The 7.5-inch howitzer gun on the forecastle could not be used. A heavy

shell had burst amongst the original gun's crew and had killed or

disabled them all. A second crew was sent from one of the naval

six-inch guns in the battery and was just being detailed to work the

howitzer when another shell killed, or disabled, all but two men. Soon

after opening fire the midship 7.5-inch howitzer was damaged by another

shell which killed some of the crew, but the remainder repaired the gun

under great difficulty and managed to resume the firing later on. The

eleven-inch howitzer on the quarter-deck was extremely well handled.

This gun fired at a steady rate throughout the proceedings in spite of

the darkness, the fumes, the difficulty of manhandling such large

projectiles in a cramped-up space and the battering that the ship was

{194} receiving around them. The behaviour of the R.M.A. throughout

was fine; they worked with a will which may have been equalled

elsewhere, but which has certainly never been surpassed; the example

set by Captain Brooks was altogether splendid.

Mention must be made of the pyrotechnic party, as we called them.

Having located and reached the Mole ourselves, an early duty was that

of indicating its extremity to the approaching blockships. For this

purpose a rocket station was rigged up in my cabin below. The rocket

apparatus protruded through a port in the stern of the ship and had

been placed at an angle calculated to carry the rocket behind the

lighthouse before bursting, so that the lighthouse would show clearly

against an illuminated background. One of the party was told off for

this position, instructed as to the object to be attained, and ordered

to carry on according to his own judgment. I believe this man had

never previously served afloat and had never been in action, but, like

the rest of them, he did his bit without the slightest hesitation and,

judging by results, with one hundred per cent efficiency. Others of

the pyrotechnic brigade landed with the storming parties and worked the

portable flame-throwers, special flares, etc., before finally attending

the smoke-making apparatus and assisting with the wounded. Lieutenant

Graham S. Hewett, R.N.V.R., was in command of the pyrotechnic party.

[Sidenote: The Viaduct Explosion]

A few minutes after the storming of the Mole had commenced a terrific

explosion was seen away to the westward, and we guessed that the

submarine party had attacked the viaduct. A seaman was standing near

me at the time and brought back to me an old {195} remark of mine,

referred to on page 120, when he asked, "Was that it, sir?" The

explosion presented a wonderful spectacle. The flames shot up to a

great height--one mentally considered it at least a mile. Curiously

enough the noise of the explosion could not be distinguished. The

experiences of the submarines will be related presently.

At about 12.15 A.M. the blockships were expected to be close to the

Mole, and a momentary glimpse of them was obtained as they passed close

to the lighthouse on their way to the canal entrance. So far so good.

We saw nothing more of the blockships and received no further news of

them until the operation had been completed. Nevertheless, no news was

good news under the circumstances and we felt quite confident that the

blockships had not been seriously hampered by the German Mole defences.

Our primary object was, therefore, attained; the diversion had been of

sufficient magnitude.

Our further tasks were firstly that of continuing the diversion until

the crews of the blockships had had a reasonable chance of being

rescued subsequent to sinking their vessels in the canal, secondly of

re-embarking our storming parties and withdrawing to seaward, and

thirdly of carrying out demolition work on the Mole during our stay

alongside. It will be noticed that these three tasks are not mentioned

in their proper sequence of event but in their order of importance. It

is obviously true that demolition work might be of assistance from the

point of view of diversion, but not to a great extent when one realises

that the enemy were already so animated with a desire to destroy our

ship that they would hardly care one way {196} or the other what our

particular action on the Mole might be. The presence of the ship was

the main diversion and so, at all costs, the ship must be kept

alongside until the diversion was no longer required and until our

storming parties had returned.

At about half an hour after midnight the full force of the diversion

had been developed. Although the ship was still being hit continuously

and the inferno showed no signs of abatement one can say that the

conditions had become stabilised. As far as we could gather we could

not augment our efforts, but could only carry on for the time being.

So we carried on.

Being somewhat anxious as to the state of things between decks I took

the opportunity of a hurried visit below. On my way down from the

bridge I met Lieutenant E. Hilton-Young, R.N.V.R., our parliamentary

representative. He was attired in his shirtsleeves and minus any

head-gear. His right arm was bandaged. I remember that he was

breaking all the accepted rules of the drill-book by smoking a large

cigar as he performed his prearranged duties of supervising the

foremost six-inch guns and his self-appointed duty of cheering

everybody up. On enquiry he informed me that he had "got one in the

arm." I heard afterwards that even when he had collapsed, he refused

to, have his wound attended to, and had to be taken below by force.

Eventually his right arm had to be amputated, but with his unfailing

resource he did not let many hours pass by before commencing to educate

himself in the art of left-handed writing.

[Illustration: H.M.S. VINDICTIVE'S BRIDGE AND FLAME-THROWER HUT

(RIGHT). The fighting top is shown above, and from behind, the bridge.

The conning tower is below the bridge. A large shell passed through

the hole to the right of the man in white uniform.]

Every available space on the mess deck was occupied by casualties.

Those who could do so were sitting on the mess stools awaiting their

turn for medical {197} attention. Many were stretched at full length

on the deck, the majority being severely wounded. Some had already

collapsed and were in a state of coma; I fear that many had already

passed away. It was a sad spectacle indeed. Somehow, amidst all the

crashing and smashing on deck, one had not realised the sacrifice that

was taking place.

[Sidenote: Scene Between Decks]

During a fight at sea the personnel below know little or nothing of how

things are going. This especially applies to the stokehold and

engine-room personnel, who are, indeed, in an unenviable position. It

applies, also, to the wounded who have been carried below. It is not

difficult to imagine their feelings, especially when one considers how

rapidly a vessel may sink after sustaining a vital injury. One does

not need to be an advanced psychologist to understand the importance of

keeping those stationed between decks supplied with information as to

what is occurring on deck. So I shouted out something about everything

going splendidly, the Mole being stormed, the viaduct being blown up

and the blockships having passed in. The cheer that went up will live

long in my memory. Those who could stand crowded round and forgot

their wounds. Some of those on the deck endeavoured to sit up to

ascertain the news. I did not then know that I had been reported as

killed. The crowd almost barred my way in their excitement, and the

question which caught my ear more than any other was, "Have we won,

sir? Have we won?" just as if the whole affair had been a football

match.

The medical officers and their assistants, under the direction of

Staff-Surgeon McCutcheon, were working at the highest pressure. The

wounded were {198} literally pouring down every available ladder in a

constant stream. Dressing stations had been improvised at intervals

along the deck. The ward-room and the sick bay being the two main

stations. Everything humanly possible was being done to render

first-aid and to alleviate suffering. There was no lack of ready

helpers. All those of the latter who could do so were bringing the

wounded down. Many of the less severely wounded were attending to

those others who were badly hit. A Marine with his own head bandaged

up was supporting in his arms an officer who was unconscious with a

terrible wound in the head, and only relaxed his hold when the officer

died. The work of McCutcheon and his confrères was beyond all praise;

untiring energy, consummate care, and withal real brotherly bearing

characterised their actions.

The news of the blockships spread quickly, and one heard every now and

then renewed outbursts of cheering. The news had reached the stokehold

and did much to relieve the tension amongst the personnel in that part

of the ship. A few pieces of shell had fallen into the engine room,

but no damage had been done.

A return to the lower bridge showed little apparent change in the

situation. Shell were still hitting us every few seconds and many

casualties were being caused by flying splinters. Large pieces of the

funnels and ventilators were being torn out and hurled in all

directions--one wondered how much more of this battering the ship could

stand. The exact nature of the various missiles and the direction from

whence they came were of course unknown to us. It was afterwards

suggested that the shore guns to the {199} westward of Blankenberghe

were doing much of the mischief. Certainly our position, tangential to

the Mole, brought such a thing into the realm of possibility, but it

would seem doubtful whether those German batteries, from which we were

probably invisible, would risk hitting their own guns on the Mole from

that flanking direction. However, all our guns which could fire at the

enemy were fully occupied in accordance with the prearranged plan, so

there was no particular object in ascertaining the position of new

targets.

[Sidenote: Anxiety for the _Daffodil_]

Our chief anxiety at this period was the safety of _Daffodil_, which

seemed to bear a charmed life. _Vindictive's_ hull was amply protected

by the wall itself, but _Daffodil_ was far more exposed. As already

mentioned the loss of _Daffodil_ would almost certainly have entailed

the loss of the whole of the storming parties on the Mole.

{200}

CHAPTER IV

THE FIGHT ON THE MOLE. H.M.S. _IRIS_.

As soon as the two foremost gangways reached the wall a party of seamen

led by Lieutenant-Commander Adams had commenced the storming of the

Mole. Lieutenant-Commander A. L. Harrison, the senior officer of the

seamen storming parties, had been wounded in the head and was too dazed

to land on the Mole until later. Commander Brock, having completed his

duties in the aft flamethrower hut, also stormed the Mole.

Adams and a handful of men made their way along the parapet to the left

and found an observation hut situated on it close by. This was bombed,

but no occupants were found inside. Brock is believed to have gone

inside this hut for the purpose of examining its interior; there is no

authentic evidence that he was ever seen again. Adams stationed some

of his men to guard a ladder leading from the parapet to the floor of

the Mole and then returned to find us struggling with the grappling

anchors as already described. Adams then reconnoitred again to the

eastward and located a German machine-gun firing at the parapet from

the trench system on the floor of the Mole. Barbed wire surrounded

this trench, which interposed between _Vindictive_ and the three-gun

battery at the end of the broad part of the Mole. The seamen were then

detailed to bomb the trench position, but in doing so they suffered

many casualties from machine-gun {201} fire. The position on the

parapet was almost entirely exposed to gun-fire from the Mole itself,

the lookout station affording the only cover. The German vessels

berthed at the inner side of the Mole had also joined in the fight.

The terrific noise, the darkness, the bursting of shell, and the hail

of machine-gun bullets rendered it exceedingly difficult for any one

individual to make such observations as would lead to a connected

account of the fighting on the Mole itself.

[Sidenote: A Splendid Sacrifice]

Just before arriving alongside the Mole, Lieutenant-Commander Harrison,

in supreme command of the seamen storming parties after Commander

Halahan's death, was struck on the head by a fragment of a shell; he

was knocked senseless and sustained a broken jaw. On recovering

consciousness he proceeded over one of the gangways to the parapet,

where he took over command of the party detailed to attack the Mole

batteries to the eastward, Lieutenant-Commander Adams going back to

obtain reënforcements. Gathering together a handful of his men,

Harrison led a charge along the parapet itself in the face of heavy

machine-gun fire. He was killed at the head of his men, all but two of

whom were also killed, these two being wounded.

Harrison's charge down that narrow gangway of death was a worthy finale

to the large number of charges which, as a forward of the first rank,

he had led down many a Rugby football ground. He had "played the game"

to the end. To quote the final words in the official notification of

his posthumous award of the Victoria Cross--"Lieutenant-Commander

Harrison, although already severely wounded {202} and undoubtedly in

great pain, displayed indomitable resolution and courage of the highest

order in pressing his attack, knowing as he did that any delay in

silencing the guns might jeopardise the main object of the expedition,

i.e., the blocking of the Zeebrugge-Bruges Canal."

With Harrison's death the Navy lost an officer who was as popular and

as keen as he had been invaluable to the success of this particular

operation, especially in the preparatory work.

Able-Seaman McKenzie, one of the survivors of Harrison's party, finding

himself alone, did good execution with his Lewis gun in spite of being

wounded in several places; he eventually returned to _Vindictive_ after

accounting for a number of the enemy.

[Sidenote: Storming of the Mole]

The Marines, now commanded by Major B. G. Weller, R.M.L.I., had

followed the seamen over the gangways.

The prearranged details of the operations on the Mole had to be

somewhat modified owing to the fact that _Vindictive_ was further to

the westward than originally intended. The reason for the latter has

already been given, but a further word may not be out of place. The

responsibility for the actual position of the ship was entirely my own;

the error in position was, therefore, my own also. When the attack was

originally planned the intention had been to endeavour to place the

ship with her stern seventy yards from the western gun of the battery

on the lighthouse extension. Actually _Vindictive's_ gangways rested

on the Mole nearly three hundred yards to the westward. One can only

conjecture what would have happened, under the circumstances of the

failure of {203} the smoke screen owing to the change of wind, if the

ship had proceeded past the six-gun battery at a speed sufficiently

slow for berthing so close to the battery itself. Whether the ship

would ever have reached the Mole, or whether there would have been any

storming parties left on arrival alongside, can only be guessed. It

certainly looks as if our mistake in position was as providential as it

was unintentional.

Lieutenant F. T. V. Cooke, who afterwards greatly distinguished

himself, led out the first party of Marines and silenced a party of

Germans who were observed firing at the parapet from a position near

No. 2 shed. Another party under Lieutenant Lamplough then established

a strong point near No. 3 shed for the purpose of dealing with any

enemy approaching from the westward. His party also attacked and

bombed a German destroyer berthed at the inner side of the Mole.

Another party was ordered to the eastward to reënforce the seamen. As

soon as the position was more clear the main party of the Marine force,

under Captain E. Bamford, commenced an assault on the German positions

covering the Mole battery.

It is not possible to say how many of the storming parties reached the

Mole--the loss of officers and men and the resulting temporary

disorganisation naturally prevented the collection of definite

information. Suffice it to say that a large number stormed the Mole in

furtherance of our diversion, and that the latter was undoubtedly

successful in that we attained our primary object of assisting the

blockships to pass an all-important obstacle in the Mole batteries.

Before passing on to other phases of the operation a {204} general idea

of the difficulties faced by the storming parties may be of interest,

together with a brief account of the manner in which these difficulties

were surmounted.

From the time of our arrival the Mole abreast the ship was subjected to

extremely heavy fire. Presumably the shore guns, including the Kaiser

Wilhelm battery with its twelve-inch guns and the Goeben battery

(9.4-inch guns) situated almost within point-blank range, were shelling

the Mole for all they were worth, regardless of damage to their own

property or of danger to their own personnel. That, of course, would

be a correct action, the repulse of the enemy always being of first

importance.

The parapet on the high wall was almost entirely destitute of cover.

The difficulty of placing the scaling ladders from the parapet to the

floor-level of the Mole and of descending them whilst carrying such

paraphernalia as rifles, bombs, flame-throwers, Lewis guns, etc., can

easily be imagined. The difficulty would certainly not be lessened by

the fact that the men would have their backs to any enemy who might be

awaiting them on the Mole itself. The fighting amidst entirely strange

surroundings in the face of properly organised strong points held by

the enemy would not be easy. Add to that the certain losses and

consequent disorganisation entailed during the assault, the difficulty

of recognising friend from foe at night, and the blinding glare of star

shell or searchlights alternating with momentary periods of inky

darkness.

[Illustration: THE FIGHT ON THE MOLE. _Drawn by Charles De Lacy from

details supplied by the Author_. Note the men coming down the outer

wall of the Mole from _Vindictive_]

Undoubtedly the assault would be difficult enough. But what of the

retirement? The bodies of any men {205} who were killed or disabled on

the Mole could only be re-embarked by way of the vertical ladders

against the wall. It would be bad enough to descend them in the first

place, but a herculean task to carry a body twenty feet up a vertical

ladder under incessant shell and machine-gun fire. Yet--and I think

this fact sums up the splendid gallantry of these men--of the large

number of men who stormed the Mole, many of whom were killed or

completely disabled, the total number left on the Mole after the

retirement, including both dead and wounded, amounted to little more

than a _dozen_.

[Sidenote: _Daffodil_ and _Iris_]

_Daffodil_, as already described, was prevented from landing her

demolition parties in the prearranged manner, but some of them, led by

Sub-Lieutenant F. E. Chevallier, had climbed into _Vindictive_ and made

their way to the Mole. Lieutenant C. C. Dickinson, commanding the

demolition parties, and a party of his men on board _Vindictive_ had

landed at the commencement of the assault. They placed a couple of

ladders, descended them, and then proceeded across the Mole, killing

some Germans who were apparently making for the ladders. Demolition

charges were placed in position, but not actually exploded owing to the

presence of our own men in the vicinity. There is little doubt that

the demolition parties would have been able to carry out considerable

destructive work if more time had been available. Whatever the results

of their efforts it is certain that Dickinson, Chevallier, and their

men did all that was possible under the circumstances.

_Iris_ had reached the Mole and dropped her anchor at the foot of the

wall, about 12.15 A.M., her position {206} being roughly one hundred

yards ahead, i.e., to the westward, of _Vindictive_. The heavy swell

was tossing her about like a cork, with the result that the use of the

parapet anchors was extremely difficult. After several failures to get

these parapet anchors hooked to the top of the wall Lieutenant Claude

E. K. Hawkings, one of the officers of the storming party, ordered some

men to hold up one of the scaling ladders. They could not actually

lean it against the wall; the rough nature of the latter and the

surging of the ship would have combined to break the ladder

immediately. The ladder was, therefore, merely sloping towards the

wall without any support at its upper end. Hawkings ran up it and

leaped to the top of the Mole, the ladder being smashed to pieces a

moment later. He sat astride the wall for the purpose of fixing an

anchor and appears to have been immediately attacked by some enemy on

the parapet itself. He was seen defending himself with his revolver

before he was actually killed. It was terribly sad that his great act

should have cost him his life.

[Sidenote: Deaths of Hawkings and Bradford]

Lieutenant-Commander George N. Bradford, who was actually in command of

the storming party in _Iris_ and whose duties did not include that of

securing the ship, climbed up the ship's derrick, which carried a large

parapet anchor and which was rigged out over the Mole side of the ship.

The derrick itself was crashing on the Mole with each movement of the

ship, which, in turn, was rolling and pitching heavily; a more perilous

climb can scarcely be imagined. Waiting his opportunity, Bradford

chose the right moment and jumped to the wall, taking the anchor with

him. He placed the latter in position, but almost {207} immediately

was riddled with machine-gun bullets and fell into the sea between

_Iris_ and the Mole. Gallant attempts were made to rescue his body,

but owing to the darkness and the rush of the strong tidal stream he

was swept away beyond recovery.

Nothing could have been finer than Bradford's efforts to secure the

ship. He had been a splendid fighter in the "ring"; it was against his

nature to give in as long as there was the remotest chance of winning

through; his death brought us the great loss of a great gentleman.

Really, one cannot conceive greater bravery than was shown by these two

officers, who have set an example which will surely never be forgotten.

The anchor placed by Bradford had either slipped or been shot away,

with the result that _Iris_ suddenly surged out from the Mole. It was

then obvious that the difficulty of securing to the Mole was

insuperable, so Commander Gibbs very rightly decided to land his men

across _Vindictive_. He therefore ordered the cable to be slipped and

then steamed round the stern of _Daffodil_ and came alongside

_Vindictive_. This change of plan, necessitated by the unfavourable

state of the sea, showed a highly creditable degree of initiative. It

must be realised that these movements and proceedings of _Iris_ had

occupied over half an hour; it was about 12.55 A.M. before _Iris_ was

secured to _Vindictive_. By that time the order for the retirement had

been given. A few men scrambled out of _Iris_, but that ship was

almost immediately ordered to shove off. She therefore left

_Vindictive_ and shaped course to the northward. She had barely turned

when she came under a heavy fire from some enemy batteries. Two large

shell and several small shell hit her, {208} and were closely followed

by three more large shell. The lookout house at the port extremity of

the bridge was destroyed and a serious fire was caused on the upper

deck.

[Sidenote: Havoc in _Iris_]

Valentine Gibbs, who had remained on the bridge throughout the

operation, was mortally wounded. I had known "Val," as we had always

called him, since he was a boy of thirteen. Even at that age he had

shown himself to be absolutely fearless. Later in life he pad risen

rapidly in his profession and would assuredly have been marked out for

high command in due course. In peace days he had won the great race on

the Cresta Run at St. Moritz, in war he had volunteered for every

dangerous operation for which he had the remotest chance of selection.

At last his opportunity had come and he lived for nought else than to

put _Iris_ alongside Zeebrugge Mole. I was told afterwards that in his

short periods of consciousness after being wounded he asked and

repeated but one question, "How are things going?" and he continued to

ask how things were going until he died. I cannot write more of

"Val"--words and phrases fail to do him justice.

The havoc in _Iris_ was serious. From _Vindictive_ she appeared to

have been sunk, for she suddenly disappeared in a cloud of smoke and

flame.

Major C. E. E. Eagles, D.S.O., in command of the Marine storming

parties in _Iris_, was killed, and many of his men were killed and

wounded at this period. Artificial smoke was emitted and a small motor

boat also laid a smoke screen to shoreward of _Iris_--this probably

accounted for her sudden disappearance from view.

[Illustration: LIEUT. GEORGE N. BRADFORD, R.N., LIEUT. CLAUDE E. K.

HAWKINGS, R.N., LIEUT. RICHARD D. SANDFORD, R.N., COMMANDER VALENTINE

F. GIBBS, R.N.]

{209}

The navigating officer had been seriously wounded. Lieutenant Oscar

Henderson took command. Petty Officer Smith was illuminating the

compass with a torch in one hand and steering with the other.

Able-Seaman F. E. Blake, having extinguished the fire on the bridge,

employed himself in throwing overboard live bombs which were lying

amongst the burning debris on the upper deck.

_Iris_ had not received her share of good fortune. Nevertheless,

although she actually failed to land her storming parties, there is

every probability that her proceedings assisted to enhance the success

of the diversion at the Mole and thereby materially assisted towards

the safe passage of the blockships, i.e., the attainment of our object.

{210}

CHAPTER V

THE ATTACK ON THE RAILWAY VIADUCT.

In the previous chapter I mentioned that the explosion of the submarine

took place shortly after the storming of the Mole had commenced.

The immediate purpose in destroying the railway viaduct connecting the

Mole to the mainland was twofold: firstly, that of preventing the

Germans from sending reënforcements across to the help of the Mole

garrison; secondly, that of augmenting the main diversion. There were,

however, ulterior objects also. Firstly, the destruction in itself

would be a valuable part of the general work of demolition designed to

reduce the efficiency of the Mole as a naval and aerial base; secondly,

the loss of the railway would deny to the enemy the use of the Mole as

a place of embarkation for military purposes. If deprived of railway

communication the Mole would lose a high percentage of its special war

value.

Two old submarines, C1, commanded by Lieutenant Aubrey C. Newbold, and

C3, commanded by Lieutenant Richard D. Sandford, were chosen for the

purpose--each carrying a volunteer crew of one officer and four men in

addition to the officer in command.

The submarines were provided with special control apparatus so that the

personnel, after having set the apparatus to guide the vessel to its

destination, could abandon their craft before reaching the viaduct

itself.

{211}

For the purpose of abandonment each submarine was given motor-driven

skiffs and special ladders. The latter might enable the crews to climb

up the viaduct and escape before the explosion took place, the motor

skiffs being supplied for escaping to seaward if that was found to be

feasible.

Each submarine carried a heavy cargo of high explosive. This latter

was fitted with time fuses and special instruments so that there would

be sufficient delay between the ignition of the fuse and the final

explosion. At a prearranged minute after passing position G, the

submarines were to have slipped from their towing hawsers and then to

have made the best of their way to the viaduct. Unfortunately C1 was

so much delayed by the parting of a hawser that she could not continue

her voyage to the viaduct without running the risk of hampering C3.

The latter, exactly in accordance with the Plan, slipped from tow and

proceeded under her own engines on the prearranged courses. At

midnight the submarine appears to have been sighted in the light of a

star shell. Searchlights immediately picked her up and some firing was

seen in their direction. Artificial smoke was immediately made use of,

but the wind, having then commenced to blow towards the north, was

found to be unfavourable. The firing was only of short duration and

the artificial smoke was switched off. A few minutes later the viaduct

showed up clearly against a glare in the background and course was

altered to ensure striking exactly at right angles. Sandford disdained

to use the control apparatus to take his submarine into her position.

The vessel was run under the viaduct, at a speed {212} of nearly ten

knots, immediately between two of the vertical piles. She charged

against the horizontal and diagonal girders with such force as to

penetrate the framework of the viaduct as far as her own conning tower,

whilst being lifted bodily about a couple of feet on the frames.

Firmly wedged under the railway in a position about fifty yards from

the northern end of the viaduct the first part of the operation was

completed. It is difficult to account for the small opposition offered

to her approach by the enemy. Possibly they mistook her for a friend.

Another suggestion is that they thought she was endeavouring to pass

under the viaduct _en route_ to the canal, and that, knowing this was

impossible, they hoped to capture her intact. That suggestion sounds

extremely unlikely. Possibly the diversion caused by our efforts at

the other end of the Mole had distracted the attention of the defence

commanders; the men may have feared to take unexpected measures on

their own responsibility. Whatever the reason for the lack of enemy

opposition, there was certainly no lack of difficulty. The darkness,

suddenly giving way to the blinding glare of searchlights, the

navigational difficulties, and the necessary care in handling such an

awkward vessel combined to make their arrival a very fine feat. But

finer was to follow.

[Sidenote: Destruction of the Viaduct]

Several of the enemy had appeared on the viaduct and commenced to fire

on her with machine-guns from close range; the latter cannot have

amounted to many feet! The crew lowered a motor skiff and Sandford

ordered them to abandon ship. He then fired the time fuse and jumped

into the boat. Their purpose was now to steam away to the westward at

utmost speed {213} so as to get well clear before the explosion took

place. Unfortunately the skiff's engine was useless--the propeller had

been broken! Oars had been provided for such an emergency and the crew

pulled away from the viaduct for dear life. As soon as the boat was

clear of the viaduct itself, the firing became intense, both from the

viaduct and from the shore. The German searchlights were directed on

to the boat.

[Illustration: THE RAILWAY VIADUCT. This aerial photograph shows the

break in the viaduct planked over by the Germans. Three German

seaplanes are rising to attack the photographer's plane]

Many miracles occurred that night, but none more extraordinary than the

escape of this little boat with its two officers and four men.

Presently Sandford himself and his petty officer were severely wounded;

the stoker was also wounded. The boat was hit again and again, but

fortunately the motor pump was working and the water could be rapidly

ejected. Sandford was again wounded.

The skiff had managed to struggle about three hundred yards from the

viaduct, when there was a deafening roar as submarine C3, the viaduct

above her, the railway on the viaduct, and the Germans on the railway

were hurled to destruction. It must have been a wonderful moment for

Sandford and his crew.

The enemy searchlights were immediately extinguished and the firing

died away. A few minutes later a picket boat--the ordinary type of

steamboat carried by all large men-of-war--emerged from the darkness

and hailed the skiff. The occupants of the latter were assisted into

the picket boat, which then proceeded seawards and placed them on board

the destroyer _Phoebe_.

The picket boat, under the charge of Lieutenant-Commander F. H.

Sandford, R.N., brother of the commander of the submarine, had been

detailed for {214} this rescue work. She had made a great part of the

overseas journey under her own steam and had arrived in the nick of

time to effect the rescue. Sandford--the Lieutenant-Commander--had

been largely responsible for working out the details of the attack on

the viaduct in addition to the preparations for the demolition work on

the Mole. His handling of the picket boat--incidentally she returned

the whole way home again under her own steam--was excellent.

[Sidenote: Look Before You Leap]

Submarine C1 saw what was probably the glare of the explosion caused by

C3, but could not be certain whether the latter had reached her

destination or not. They therefore waited until they considered ample

time had passed for C3 to have arrived at the viaduct if all had gone

well. C1 then approached the Mole en route towards the viaduct and

sighted _Vindictive_ retiring to the northward. This appeared to

signify that the forces were retiring and that the operation had either

been completed or had been found impracticable owing to the change of

wind. Lieutenant Newbold, therefore, had to decide as to whether he

should continue for the sake of augmenting the destruction caused by C3

or whether he should haul off so as to be available for any further

services required. It was a difficult decision to make. He chose the

latter and earned the Vice-Admiral's commendation for doing so.

Those of us who were _au fait_ with the details of all phases of the

operation little thought we should ever see these heroic attackers of

the viaduct again. The chances against manoeuvring a submarine into

the viaduct were very considerable, the chances of any {215} of the

personnel being rescued were apparently nil. Nobody knew that better

than the personnel concerned. The use of the control apparatus would

have greatly increased their chances of being rescued, but they refused

to consider preservation of life until the success of their undertaking

had been assured. They cannot have expected to return. Yet there was

no dearth of volunteers. The personnel had been selected in much the

same way as those from the Grand Fleet. If the secret could have been

made known beforehand and volunteers asked for in the ordinary way we

should probably have had the whole submarine service begging to be

allowed to take part.

The execution of this most difficult submarine operation was beyond all

praise; it was, indeed, a miracle that the crew of C3 lived to witness

the unqualified success of their efforts. Before the night was ended

these gallant lives were again in jeopardy.

We heard afterwards that a German cyclist corps was hurriedly sent to

reënforce the Mole garrison, and, not knowing that the viaduct had been

destroyed, they were precipitated into the sea and thus infringed the

Gadarene copyright.

{216}

CHAPTER VI

THE SMOKE SCREENING. SUBSIDIARY ATTACKS.

The author is particularly anxious that each phase of the operation and

the work of each class of vessel should be clearly understood, so that

the reader may fully appreciate the work of the blockships, the latter

forming the crux of the whole operation. It will be convenient,

therefore, to describe in this chapter the proceedings of those small

craft whose work was not carried out in actual company of the

blockships themselves.

The general idea of the smoke screens has already been described. A

large number of small craft, including coastal motor boats, motor

launches, and destroyers, were required for the purpose.

At given intervals after the force had passed through position G the

several units left the force to carry out their various duties. The

latter comprised laying screens shoreward of the main line of advance,

further screens to cover the shore batteries on each side of Zeebrugge,

others close off Blankenberghe for the purpose of hampering the German

motor boats at that place, and a screen close off the German battery on

the lighthouse extension of the Mole. The earlier screens were so

efficient that they undoubtedly prevented the enemy from discovering

our presence until we were close to our objective. When the wind

changed, however, the ideal screening arrangements were no longer

possible. Such an eventuality had been allowed for, and, in accordance

with {217} their instructions, the screening craft, regardless of the

great danger, ran inshore close to the German batteries and did their

utmost to ensure the attainment of our object.

[Sidenote: Coastal Motor Boats]

The coastal motor boat (C.M.B.) detailed for "fogging" Blankenberghe

was C.M.B. 16, Lieutenant D. E. J. MacVean, R.N.V.R. Owing to

temporary difficulties with the engines, and uncertainty of position

due to drifting while carrying out repairs, this boat accompanied

_Vindictive_ to the Mole, which was first seen thirty yards away.

MacVean then proceeded to Blankenberghe harbour. On arrival near the

entrance he came under fire of a four-gun battery, but placed his smoke

floats close to the entrance piers and kept renewing them at intervals

until the whole operation had ceased, when he returned to harbour.

This piece of work was typical of the C.M.B. flotilla, which, most ably

commanded by Lieutenant A. P. Welman, R.N., established a new naval

tradition.

Welman, himself in command of C.M.B. 236, found it necessary to

undertake the duties of another C.M.B. in addition to his own, owing to

a difficulty in communicating a modification in the orders. He was

personally responsible for a very important part of the screening,

namely, that close off the Mole batteries. In spite of the

concentrated fire from the latter, and the difficulties due to the

change of wind, this gallant officer, who had always allotted himself

the most dangerous tasks, with the able assistance of two other

C.M.B.'s, maintained a fog screen which must have been an important

factor in our success. C.M.B. 226 steamed close in under the Mole

battery {218} and laid smoke floats within a few yards of the guns. It

is remarkable that these coastal motor boats should have escaped. A

single shell would be sufficient to send such a frail craft to the

bottom.

[Sidenote: Torpedoing the Enemy]

Before _Vindictive's_ arrival at the Mole two coastal motor boats had

left the force for the purpose of attacking German vessels inside the

Mole. They soon lost sight of one another in the fog and became

separated. C.M.B. 7, Sub-Lieutenant L. R. Blake, R.N.R., first sighted

the Mole about one hundred and fifty yards away and steamed close round

the lighthouse at high speed. Having located the defence booms of

barges and nets he followed down the line of the latter until close

inshore and then stopped for the purpose of selecting a target.

Observing an enemy destroyer alongside the Mole he steamed straight

towards her at high speed and fired his torpedo at her. He then

stopped to observe the result. The torpedo was seen to explode near

the forebridge of the destroyer, but the conditions of visibility

rendered it impossible to ascertain the definite result. During this

time he was being heavily fired at by machine-guns on the Mole and by

the shore batteries to the eastward of the canal. Small enemy vessels

suddenly appeared and engaged him, and he was further fired at from a

dredger which had a machine-gun. C.M.B. 7 had other duties to fulfil

in connection with smoke screening. Whilst proceeding at high speed

for that purpose she collided with an unlighted buoy, which made a

large hole in her bows. Speed was increased to lift the bows clear of

the water. It soon became apparent that the damage which she had

sustained precluded all further chance of being usefully {219}

employed, so course was set for home. An engine defect off Ostende

necessitated stopping; this, in turn, brought them into imminent danger

of sinking. Eventually one of our destroyers took her in tow and

brought her safely to Dover.

The other, C.M.B. 5, Sub-Lieutenant C. Outhwaite, R.N.V.R., had found

herself within fifty yards of the Mole and had immediately altered

course to pass round the lighthouse. She then sighted a German

torpedo-boat destroyer steering to the northeastward and at once

increased to utmost speed with the object of attacking her. C.M.B. 5

was evidently seen in the light of star shell and the German switched

on her searchlight and opened fire. As soon as the motor boat was

sufficiently close she fired a torpedo, which struck the destroyer in

the fore part of the vessel. By this time some guns on the Mole had

taken up the firing. Under concentrated fire from two directions the

motor boat was forced to haul off, and was unable to witness the fate

of the destroyer or to search for survivors. This motor boat then

proceeded to the eastward and rendered useful assistance to the

smoke-screening vessels operating in that direction.

Three other coastal motor boats, Nos. 25, 26, and 21, had been detailed

for yet another form of attack on the Mole, namely, that of dropping

Stokes bombs on its western portion around the seaplane base. These

three craft obtained many hits on the Mole from a range of only fifty

yards, one of them actually remaining stopped opposite the seaplane

sheds and pumping her bombs over the outer wall just as if there had

been no enemy in existence.

C.M.B. 32 waited until the blockships had passed {220} the Mole _en

route_ to the canal, and then, as soon as the moment appeared to be

favourable, she dashed in at utmost speed and fired a torpedo at a

German vessel berthed alongside the Mole. The torpedo was heard to

explode, but the visibility prevented the actual result from being

observed. This attack was carried out under extremely heavy

machine-gun fire.

The work of the other coastal motor boats, in connection with the

blockships' movements, will be described later.

[Sidenote: Destroyers]

Eleven torpedo-boat destroyers took part in the inshore operations;

many others were utilised as supports to seaward and as escorts to the

bombarding monitors. The destroyer flotilla was commanded by Captain

Wilfred Tomkinson, under whose direction their work of preparation had

been carried out; he accompanied the Vice-Admiral in H.M.S. _Warwick_.

Of the eleven destroyers, H.M.S. _Warwick_, flying the Vice-Admiral's

Flag, had a roving commission so that the Vice-Admiral could direct the

whole operation and render assistance where necessary. The most

favourable position from which to direct events was in the vicinity of

the Mole lighthouse.

Two other destroyers, _Phoebe_, Lieutenant-Commander Hubert E.

Gore-Langton, and _North Star_, Lieutenant-Commander Kenneth C. Helyar,

were also detailed to operate near the lighthouse. These two vessels

experienced a very anxious time. At the commencement of the attack

they patrolled in company with _Warwick_, Commander V. L. A. Campbell,

firstly with the object of preventing torpedo attacks by enemy vessels

from being directed against the storming vessels at the Mole, and

secondly for the {221} purpose of assisting the smoke screening if

required.

Just before the Mole was reached at the commencement of the attack

these three destroyers, which had been stationed ahead of the main

force during the approach, eased down to allow _Vindictive_ to pass,

and then commenced their patrol. They passed just inside an area of

very heavy barrage fire and they frequently came under fire from the

Mole. The smoke screens made it very difficult for them to keep touch

either with the movements of other vessels or with each other. Very

soon the _Phoebe_ and _North Star_ became separated from the _Warwick_;

the latter continued her patrol until the attack was virtually at an

end.

_North Star_, on becoming separated from the others, proceeded towards

her patrol area, but had great difficulty in ascertaining her position

owing to the smoke. Suddenly an enemy vessel was encountered and the

track of a torpedo was clearly seen in the glare of the enemy's

searchlight. _North Star_ returned the compliment, but it is probable

that her torpedo missed similarly to that fired by the enemy vessel;

the latter was lost sight of almost immediately. Continuing her

efforts to locate the Mole, she found herself close inshore to the

eastward of the Mole. After putting her helm hard-over, some ships

were seen right ahead, and were recognised as the blockships making

their final run to the canal. The Mole was then seen to the northward

and a torpedo was fired at a vessel alongside it. At this moment

_North Star_ was lit up by a searchlight and the German batteries

opened a heavy fire upon her. She passed close to the Mole and fired

three more torpedoes at vessels alongside it, but {222} the conditions

of visibility once more prevented the results from being observed.

When passing the lighthouse _North Star_ received several hits in the

engine-room and boiler-rooms and was completely disabled. Her fate

will be recounted presently.

H.M.S. _Phoebe_, after becoming separated from _Warwick_, commenced to

patrol off the lighthouse in accordance with her instructions.

Presently she fell in with the steamboat which had rescued the crew of

Submarine C3. The latter, who were in urgent need of medical

attention, were transferred to _Phoebe_, which vessel then continued

her patrol as before. Later on _North Star_ was sighted in a crippled

state and _Phoebe_ at once went to her assistance.

[Sidenote: Fate of the _North Star_]

_North Star_ was still being illuminated by searchlights and heavily

fired at. _Phoebe_ laid out a smoke screen to hide her and then took

her in tow--a most difficult operation under the circumstances.

Unfortunately the tow parted and the smoke screen drifted away before

the wind. Once again heavy fire was directed at these vessels and they

were being frequently hit. _Phoebe_ again took _North Star_ in tow,

but the towing wires were cut by shell explosions; to make matters

worse, the _Phoebe's_ steam siren was hit and commenced to fill the air

with its discordant shrieking, thus assisting the enemy to locate them.

_Phoebe_ next endeavoured to push _North Star_ bodily away from the

batteries, but this proved to be impossible. The only other thing to

be done was to save _North Star's_ crew and to sink her to prevent

capture. _Phoebe_, therefore, laid out another protective smoke screen

and lowered her boat for the rescue work. Helyar in _North Star_ very

reluctantly had to order "abandon ship," {223} and this was carried out

by means of her boats and rafts. One boat unfortunately capsized, but

the others were picked up and the whaler from _Phoebe_ made several

trips for survivors.

But _Phoebe_ had not given up hope. She laid out yet another smoke

screen and made another attempt to take _North Star_ in tow, going

alongside her for the purpose. Helyar and some of his crew had

remained on board _North Star_ and passed the wires to _Phoebe_. The

_North Star_ was still being hit repeatedly by shell and commenced to

list over as a result of the damage. _Phoebe_ then persuaded Helyar to

leave his ship and took him on board after embarking the remainder of

the crew.

On going astern to avoid the searchlights, another man was seen on

board _North Star_. _Phoebe_ at once returned alongside and ordered

the man to jump across. During all this time _Phoebe_ herself had been

repeatedly hit, resulting in several casualties, but Gore-Langton

considered that he ought to sink _North Star_ before leaving her. His

ship then came in for increased fire from the German batteries, and as

a result of the smoke, was unable to locate _North Star_

again--probably she had sunk[1] already as she had certainly been in a

sinking condition when Lieutenant-Commander Helyar left her. For

forty-five minutes the struggle to save _North Star_ had been carried

out within point-blank range of the German batteries, which had kept up

an incessant fire almost throughout. _Phoebe_ herself had received

considerable damage and it seems almost a miracle that she survived the

[1] The wreck of _North Star_ was afterwards located on the bottom to

the northeastward of the lighthouse.

{224} ordeal. Anything finer than the conduct of the commanders of

these two vessels, and of their ships' companies, cannot be conceived.

Yet it was only typical of the destroyer service as a whole, this

latter observation being perhaps the best commendation of all. The

gallant crew of Submarine C3, previously transferred to _Phoebe_ from

the picket boat, had seen more than their share of the fighting.

The remaining destroyers, _Whirlwind, Myngs, Trident, Mansfield, Felox,

Morris, Moorsom, and Melpomene_, all carried out their patrolling

duties close to the northward of Zeebrugge without any incidents that

require special mention here.

Captain R. Collins, R.N., in charge of the motor launches, was on board

M.L. 558, commanded by Lieutenant-Commander Chappell, R.N.V.R. This

motor launch rendered useful work in assisting the blockships to find

the Mole before the latter vessels had penetrated the smoke screen, and

also directed the picket boat towards the viaduct _en route_ to rescue

the crew of the submarine. Considering the dangerous locality in which

M.L. 558 was operating, she was fortunate in being hit by only one

shell.

M.L. 424, commanded by Lieutenant O. Robinson, R.N.V.R., was less

fortunate. Soon after passing through the smoke screen she was badly

hit--her captain and two men being killed and another man wounded. The

second-in-command, Lieutenant J. W. Robinson, R.N.V.R., finding the

launch was completely disabled, decided to abandon her. Having got the

crew into the dinghey, he set fire to his boat and left her in flames;

the occupants of the dinghey were picked up by M.L. 128.

{225}

M.L. 110, commanded by Lieutenant-Commander Young, R.N.V.R., was also

unfortunate. She was struck and badly damaged by several shell, which

killed her commanding officer and a petty officer, another officer and

two men being wounded. The second-in-command, Lieutenant G. Bowen,

ordered the crew to abandon the vessel in the dinghey. This was done

after the launch had been sunk to prevent any possibility of its

capture by the enemy. The survivors were picked up by M.L. 308.

The motor launches detailed for smoke-screening did splendid work, as

did all the launches which took part in the operation. Some detailed

stories of the remaining launches will be given presently.

{226}

CHAPTER VII

THE WORK OF THE BLOCKSHIPS.

The blockships had eased down soon after passing through position G so

as to drop astern of _Vindictive_ sufficiently far to enable that

vessel and her consorts to create the necessary diversion. The conning

and steering positions in each ship were triplicated and fully manned

so that, in the event of one position being destroyed, the handling of

the ship could immediately be taken over by another party. Guns' crews

were standing by their guns ready to defend their vessels against

attacks by enemy craft or to retaliate against the batteries in the

hope of reducing the latter's fire.

At about midnight heavy firing was heard close at hand, but nothing

could be seen owing to the dense smoke screen which was then drifting

slowly to seaward. During the first quarter of an hour after midnight

the blockships passed through an area which was apparently being

barraged with shell fire. They were steaming in the order _Thetis_,

Commander Ralph S. Sneyd, _Intrepid_, Lieutenant Stuart S.

Bonham-Carter, and _Iphigenia_, Lieutenant Edward W. Billyard-Leake.

At twenty minutes past midnight the Mole was sighted right ahead in the

glare of the rockets fired from _Vindictive_; the blockships had just

been hailed by M.L. 558, who gave the direction of the lighthouse.

[Sidenote: Dash for the Canal]