In another moment the weight of water filling the ballast tanks was being thrown off under the force of the compressed air and the Monitor lifted off the bed of the harbor.  Striking a match, Binns leaned over the depth dial, watching the fluctuating hand that marked foot by foot the progress of the Monitor upward.  To lighten the load as much as possible and counterbalance the weight of water in the wrecked conning tower Ted released the torpedoes remaining in the tubes.  In a few minutes the indicator hand pointed to zero and the Monitor’s officers realized that now their craft was riding awash with her deck fully exposed.

Making his way forward through the gloom, Ted sprang to the hatch and raised the lid.  As the morning light streamed in through the opening a muffled cheer resounded from the interior of the sub.  Vaulting up the ladder, Ted leaped on deck and looked around him.  There to starboard, not more than five hundred feet away, loomed a giant cruiser.  From her stern tailrail trailed a familiar emblem.

“The Stars and Stripes!” exclaimed the youth as his comrades swarmed up about him from the hold of the prison ship.

A glorious victory had been won by the allied fleets.  All about the Monitor were warships of the American, English, and French nations.  Reducing the land fortifications after a terrific bombardment, the combined fleet had “rushed” the harbor in the wake of their mine-sweepers, engaged and overwhelmed the larger units of the German fleet there assembled, and driven some of the smaller craft into the Zeebrugge Canal.  Thousands of marines and blue-jackets, formed into landing parties, had been set upon shore and were now taking formal possession of the German stronghold.

“Hurrah for the Monitor!” the cry reverberated over the waters as the plucky American submarine was made fast alongside the U.S.S. Chicago and the story of her night’s exploits became heralded about.  Willing hands assisted in reclaiming the wounded and gas victims from the hold of the ship.  Jack and his captain, the latter still unconscious, suffering from a severe concussion of the brain, were lifted over the side and carried to the cruiser’s sick bay for their wounds to be dressed.  It was found upon examination that the ligaments and muscles in Jack’s limbs had been severely torn and the flesh lacerated, but that his injuries, while painful, were not serious.

Great jubilation reigned on all the ships.  A band on the forward deck of the Chicago was playing “Stars and Strips Forever,” while from a nearby British battleship came the strains of “Rule Britannia.”  Their last rendezvous on the Flemish coast wrested from them, the backbone of the German U-boat campaign was broken by the concerted land and sea attack.  Several of the allied warships had gone down in the spectacular engagement of the night, but a notable victory had been won, and the boys of the navy were in raptures over their successful engagement.