It's 6.30 p.m. on December 5, 1945, 60 miles off the coast of Florida.

As rain batters his Avenger torpedo bomber, U.S. Navy pilot Lieutenant Charles Taylor

stares at his navigation equipment in confusion.

The compass spins wildly.

The fuel gauge drops lower and lower, and he can't see anything familiar out the window.

Lieutenant Taylor is completely lost.

Just over three hours ago, Taylor took command of Flight 19, a five-plane

training mission out of Fort Lauderdale. It was supposed to be a routine three-hour flight in

mild weather, but it's turned out to be anything but. A clap of thunder shakes the aircraft.

Lieutenant Taylor peers out the window again. He could see the four other planes he's flying with, but little else.

He attempts to reach his base on radio again.

He last had contact 30 minutes ago.

But now all Lieutenant Taylor can pick up is high-pitched static.

While Lieutenant Taylor can't hear his base over the radio,

he can hear the voices of the other four pilots.

Art of him wishes he couldn't, though.

He knows they don't trust him.

But Lieutenant Taylor is sure he can guide them all back to base.

He's convinced that if they continue on their heading just a little longer, they're sure to see land.

But then the needle on his fuel gauge hit zero, and his torpedo bomber's engine begins to sputter.

Lieutenant Taylor tells his crew to brace for impact, before giving one last order over the radio to the other pilots.

When the first plane hits the water, the rest should ditch in the ocean with it.

...