(PLATES 19 TO 23.)

There would be no object in recapitulating here the story of the attack on Zeebrugge on St. George's Day of 1918. Every schoolboy for generations will, it is to be hoped, know it by heart.

Plate 19 shows the magnificent proportions of the canal which covers the eight miles from Bruges to Zeebrugge. It was used continuously during the war for the passage of submarines from their enormous concrete shelters at Bruges—which had resisted all the attacks of our bombers—to the sea. Bruges, in fact, is really the port; there is no port at Zeebrugge except a small dock and the open water under the shelter of the great curved mole. The gates of the lock at the seaward end of the canal are huge caissons (Plate 20) which slide into place from recesses on the western side of the lock, one of which can be seen in the photograph, in which the seaward gate is shown in its closed position. Between the two gates the lock is crossed by a girder bridge which can be swung to one side in the usual way to allow the passage of vessels. It is a matter of history that the lock gates of 1798 were blown up by a British naval party, but our bombers had not been successful in hitting the gates of 1915, so that they were intact at the time of our attack, and remained so till the end. By way of preparation for any possibilities, however, the Germans had got a spare caisson standing beside the canal ready to be put in place if either of the others should be destroyed.

It will be remembered that the great curved mole at Zeebrugge is a mile long, and about 175 feet in breadth over much of its length, carrying several lines of railway and huge warehouses. Many of the latter are at present destroyed, and a postcard purchased on the spot gives an illustration of some of these, with the quaint superscription: "Magazins des Allemands incendiÉs par les Tommies pour dÉtruire les innombrables puces!" which may or may not be a true statement. Towards the landward end of the mole a considerable length of it becomes a viaduct, and was carried on open steel piling, so as to leave a clear waterway for tidal purposes. The mole was defended by artillery (Plate 21) as well as by machine-guns, and the execution which these, especially the latter, did on our brave fellows in the attack is still fresh in our minds.

It was, of course, against the open part of the structure, the steel viaduct, that Lieutenant Sandford steered his old submarine, full of explosives, with the object of blowing up the viaduct, and so preventing any help from the landward side getting to the men who were resisting our landing farther on. The viaduct is said to have been covered with soldiers watching the approach of C 3, and unsuspecting their fate. The boat was rammed into the structure, the Lieutenant and his crew got away safely, the fuse did its duty, the viaduct disappeared with everyone on it, and communication with the land was cut off. Plate 22 shows the viaduct, seen from the bend of the mole on the inner side, looking shorewards. The two concrete blocks supporting the landward end of the viaduct were, of course, built by the Germans after the attack—they show exactly the place where C 3 did its work. Plate 23 was taken from the outer side of the mole, and shows the present temporary viaduct on its concrete piers, and in deep water beside it a flagstaff carrying a white ensign which has been placed on the spot, very charmingly, by the Belgians, as a memorial of the pluck of the men who, under that flag, carried out the great exploit.