The composition of the operating craft was of a truly diverse nature. Off the Goodwins came the old Vindictive, disguised almost out of knowledge. Her mainmast was down, the massive spar being fashioned into a huge "bumpkin" to fend her stem off the masonry of the Mole. On her foremast and above her conning-tower were box-like structures containing flame-projecting apparatus, Lewis-guns, and other devices conjured up by the Great War. Along her sides were large "brows" or gangways, together with a formidable array of hawsers and chains terminating in specially constructed grapnels.
Astern and in tow of her were Iris and Daffodil, two ferry-steamers well known to the inhabitants of Liverpool and Birkenhead, and now carrying passengers of a very different sort from those to which they were accustomed. Following were the block-ships Thetis, Intrepid, Iphigenia, Sirius, and Brilliant, the paddle mine-sweeper Lingfield, and five M.-L.'s.
The starboard column was composed of Warwick, flying the flag of Vice-admiral Keyes, Phoebe, North Star, Trident, and Mansfield, the two latter towing two obsolete submarines of the "C" class. In the port column were destroyers, every vessel towing one or more coastal motor-boats, while between the columns were about fifty or sixty M.-L.'s.
M.-L. No. 4452 was told off to operate with the artificial fog-producing craft. It was to be by no means an uninteresting task, for, not only was it fraught with danger, but it required great skill and sound judgment on the part of the small craft concerned to liberate the thick pall of smoke at the opportune moment and exactly in the required spot.
Both Farnborough and Branscombe had urgently requested permission to be allowed to take their M.-L. into the harbour to rescue the crews of the block-ships; but since practically every M.-L. skipper had made a similar submission it was obvious that there were to be many disappointed aspirants to the honour—amongst them the officer commanding M.-L. 4452.
Cautiously the strange medley of naval vessels proceeded. Several hours of daylight yet remained—a period during which the flotilla was in more danger of submarine attack than during the night. There was also the risk of running over an enemy mine-field, for the Huns, anticipating naval operations against their Belgian fortresses, had been known to make lavish use of their mine-laying submarines. Another factor, which subsequently proved to be a very vital one, was the position of the buoys. These had been carefully observed by British air-craft, and, as far as could be judged, were all in their positions on the morning of the 22nd.
Orders had been given to dispense with wireless signals, while the use of flags as a means of communication was reduced to a minimum. But one signal and its reply were fated to be recorded in the pages of history.
From the Admiral's ship came the stirring message, a clarion call to which Englishmen had oft-times rallied before: "St. George for England".
Promptly came the forcible and appropriate rejoinder, "And may we give the Dragon's Tail a jolly good twist".
Guarded by destroyers and M.-L.'s the Vindictive and the block-ships proceeded, arriving at a certain rendezvous just as darkness was setting in. Here the principal actors separated, the Sirius and Brilliant making towards Ostend, while the others held on for Zeebrugge.