"I caught a lone B-26 over Lae, and pursued the enemy plane over the sea, shooting up the fuselage and right wing. The Marauder burst into flames over the water, but before it crashed four men bailed out. Each landed safely in the sea, and, the next moment a small life raft popped up. As I circled the raft, I saw that the men clung to its sides. Since they were only about two miles from Lae Air Base, it was only a matter of time before a boat would pick them up and make them prisoner.
Suddenly one of the men thrust his hands high above his head and disappeared. The others were beating fiercely at the water, and trying to get into the raft. Sharks! It seemed that there were thirty or forty of them, the fins out of the water in erratic movements all about the raft. Then the second man disappeared. I circled lower and and lower and nearly gagged as I saw the flash of teeth which closed on the arm of the third man. The lone survivor, a big bald headed man, was clinging to the raft with one hand and swinging wildly with a knife in the other. Then, he too was gone.
When the men on the speedboat returned to Lae, they reported that they had found the raft empty and blood stained Not even a shred of the men was visible."