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1There were bodies all around, clear in the moonlight, some in life jackets, some not. Way beyond, the sea was on fire with burning oil, and as Martin Hare lifted on the crest of a wave he saw what was left of the destroyer, her prow already under the water. There was a dull explosion, her stern lifted, and she started to go. He skidded down the other side of the wave, buoyant in his life jacket, and choked, half fainting as he struggled for breath, aware of the intense pain from the shrapnel in his chest.The sea was running very fast in the slot between the islands, six or seven knots at least. It seemed to take hold of him, carrying him along at an incredible rate; the cries of the dying faded into the night behind. Again he was lifted higher on a wave, paused for a moment, half blind from the salt; then he was swept down very fast and cannoned towards a life raft.He grabbed at one of the rope handles and looked up. A man crouched there, a Japanese officer in uniform. His feet were bare. They stared at each other for a long moment, and then Hare tried to pull himself up. But he had no strength left.The Japanese crawled forward without a word, reached down, caught him by the life jacket and hauled him onto the raft. At the same moment the raft spun like a top, caught by an eddy, and the Japanese pitched headfirst into the sea.