After Taylor gave the order for his squadron to turn, the planes continued to be battered by the storm, and were starting to run rather short on fuel.
At about 6:55pm Florida time, Flight 19 reached the outskirts of the Triangle.
"Stay in formation!" Taylor warned. "If we lose anybody in here, they're most likely gone for good! And I DO NOT want to be the one to have to explain what happened if anyone dies here! Does everyone copy that?"
"Yes Sir!"
"Will do Lieutenant, we'll stay right with you!"
Taylor knew the extreme danger that they were now facing. Winter storms were nothing to sneeze at, and Taylor, as well as several of his wingmen from other squadrons had lost comrades to them before. And although the TBF Avenger was a stout plane, even it had it's limits. They simply weren't designed to be battered by a practical hurricane for extended periods of time. This was beginning to show on the other planes.
"Blue 1, this is Blue 3, how much farther is it to base?, over?"
"I'm not sure Blue 3. According to the map, it should only be about another 100 miles. I would give you an exact reading, but my compass is acting weird."
"Well, I certainly hope that we make landfall soon, this storm is really starting to take a toll on my plane."
Taylor knew this to be true, as while this conversation between him and Blue 3 was happening, Ensign James was reporting minor cracks beginning to form in the fuselage.
"It's not much better over here Blue 3. Ensign James is reporting minor cracks in the fuselage. We have to keep going though. Like I said before, We should only have about another 100 miles to go!"
"Sir, yes sir!"
At about 7:02pm, really weird things began to happen. It began with flashes of white light light in the sky. At first, Taylor thought that these were just lightning bolts, but soon after, these flashes evolved into patches of light, that revealed what appeared to be patches of green grass! Taylor was very confused.
"Patches of grass in the sky, how is that even possible?!" He radioed to the rest of his squadron. "Please tell me that I'm not the only one seeing the patches of green grass in the clouds!"
"Well Lieutenant, I can't say for sure if I'm seeing patches of grass, but I'm definitely seeing weird shapes. Any idea what that could be?"
"Negative Blue 3. But keep your eyes peeled."
"Sir, yes sir."
From where he was seated lower in the plane, Ensign James saw the patches as well. His paranoid fear did begin to give way to curiosity though.
"Any idea on what those patches could be Taylor?"
"I have no idea Ensign. It could just be our minds playing tricks on us with the lightning flashes, but who knows? This is the 'Bermuda Triangle' after all. Anything is possible, I suppose."
At the mention of, "Bermuda Triangle", James's fear returned. However, instead of staying where he was, he decided to move to a spot where he could see better. He climbed up into the gunner's compartment at the rear turret, where if me moved around, he would have an almost 180 degree view. However, all he could see was rain, clouds, lightning, and of course Blues 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7.
Taylor heard James moving around. "Hey! What are you doing back there?"
"I just moved into the gunner's seat so that I could get a better view."
"Well, please just pick a place and stay there! I really don't need you constantly moving around. Plus, when we hit turbulence, this plane really gets jerked around a lot. If you weren't strapped in your seat, you would probably get your skull cracked open if you were to fall down. Get the picture?"
James pictured himself in the situation that Taylor had just described, and it gave him the chills. "Yep, clear as window glass Lieutenant."
"OK, good. Also, try and keep a close eye on the rest of the squadron. I still have them on the radio, but if we lose that, I'll need you to spot for me. Do you think that you would be able to do that?"
"Sure thing Taylor."
And with that, Ensign James settled into his new role. However, as he sat there in the rear turret, looking all around him, his mind began to play on his paranoia again. He began to see things that weren't really there. He wanted to move back down, but Taylor had told him to stay put. He wanted to tell Taylor about what he was seeing, but he knew that most of it was just his imagination running wild.
"Why do I have to have these problems?" The ensign thought to himself. "If only I hadn't been sent to the pacific. Then maybe it wouldn't be so bad." James thought back to his time in the Pacific War. He had been involved with Iwo Jima, and Okinawa at the end of the war, and both of those encounters had left him scarred for life. He continued to watch like Taylor had asked him to, but his mind continued to take a downward spiral.
Flight 19 had continued to fly on, getting battered by the storm. Each passing minute caused their fuel gauges to drop ever so much lower. Each passing minute made their making it home less and less likely. All of them knew the dangers of running out of fuel in the middle of a storm like this, and the chances of being rescued were slim to none. However, they trusted Taylor's judgement. He had been their instructor since the beginning, and, (They hoped!) He knew what he was doing. However, their dropping fuel gauges, coupled with their possibly being lost, on top of the weird patches in the sky that they kept seeing, really began to mess with their heads as well.
What they didn't know though, was that those patches of grass were only the beginning. Things were about to get worse. Much, much worse. When it was all said and done, one of the crew of Flight 19 would soon find themselves in a whole new world.