Don't have many ghost stories, but this one actually happened to me.
Back in '89 or so, I was part of a team which would respond to
"situations".
This of course had nothing to do with my regular job fixing airplanes,
but was a secondary duty. So it was off with the coveralls, put away
the tools,
and on with the helmet, combat clothing and draw a rifle and head out
to the situation...in this case my job was to guard the site of a
downed
aircraft. Set up a little perimeter, just be the guy on the ground.
There were two of us.
In this relatively unremarkable case, a heavy dual chopper had an in
flight emergency, and set down in a field outside a little town only
about an hour
across the Quebec border. So Dave and I set out to find the place. Very
pretty...late in the year. Leaves were pretty much all down, and
blowing
in little drifts, and all the little roadside stands were closed for
the season. Jack o'lanterns were showing up on every doorstep, and it
was a beautiful sunny Saturday.
The day went more or less as we expected...the pilots officers had off
loaded the lobsters they were smuggling home from Halifax and then
vanished off to a function of some sort, the flight engineer did up his
paperwork and went back to the base to find more paperwork, and the
technicians from the unit which owned those choppers had showed up to
decide what equipment would be needed to get this bird home,
and then they too vanished. So it was just me, Dave, the pickup truck,
and some village kids. And then they eventually all went home as well.
So guarding a crash site. Not an exciting job, but it had to be done. I
had showed up at about noon, and expected a relief sometime
around 8. Well, 8 o'clock went by, and the sun was pretty much down,
and no relief. Then 9 o'clock. Then 10 o'clock went by. Clearly they
had
forgotten about us, and it wasn't as if our two way radios could reach
all the way back to base. Then a mountie drove up with a message from
the base telling us that the relief guys just could not find us, and
they had gone back to base. Ahh, well that explained it. Well, it WAS
dark
and maybe understandable that they missed us. Me and Dave were just
imagining how frustrated the poor guys were, driving all over a strange
part of the planet looking for us. Our radios were on, but we had not
picked up any plaintive messages...pretty much par for the course. You
know, in my entire military career, I NEVER had radios that worked! I
figure thats just another way that real life deviates from the movies!
But, I digress....
The mountie told us he could get a message back to base for us, and I
told him that we would wait for their truck in town under the street
light.
There was only one. Then after the Mountie drove off, the reality
settled back in...we couldn't leave our post, and so one of us would
have to hike
into town, and the other would sit in the nice warm pickup truck.
Dave's rock broke my scissors, and so, slinging my rifle, I hiked the
15 minutes
or so into town, wondering why it had never occured to me to ask the
mountie for a ride. Actually, it was a nice evening. A little frosty
maybe,
mostly a full moon, a few clouds, and every living soul in the place
was inside watching Hockey Night in Canada. And there in front of the
church
was the street light. Right at a curve in the road...anybody coming
down the road could not possibly miss me. So I stood under that light.
And waited. And waited.
So, gradually all the house lights went out as the hockey game ended.
And the traffic got less and less. And the time went on, and it was
getting
a little chilly. And my legs were getting a tired of standing so I
looked around, and there was the church steps. "Ah, I'll just sit there
and wait, and
come out into the street if any headlights show up on that road!" And
so I made myself as comfy as I could under a sign that proclaimed to
all
and sundry that Jean Luc and Margarite were being married that day. I
missed THAT too! Ah well.
And the imagination started going. Here it was approaching midnight, I
was tired from being on duty ALL DAY! And I'm sitting on frosty
concrete church steps and there are grave stones all around me. And
this little dialogue started going in my head. "Oh right...its the side
door of the church and there is a graveyard here. I'm sitting in a
bleepin graveyard waiting for some nitwits who can't read a bleepin
map!
And the wind is picking up a bit and the leaves are rustling like a
living thing. And there's one of the residents bony hands reaching
around
the gravestone just off to the left. Uh huh. Shake your head
Bill...naah, there is nothing there. " "I'm finally getting
comfortable. No lights on the
highway. Wind is rattling the few remaining leaves out of the trees.
Motion off to the left. There's that hand again. Clear as day, not more
than
20 feet away. Right there in the light, reaching around that
gravestone. Right. Its got to be one of those cardboard skeletons they
are
decorating the town with leading up to Halloween. Just blowing around
in the wind, like the leaves. So why don't cha go over and see.
Naah, I'm comfy right here thank you, and besides, its not there any
more. Just your imagination."
"No, there it is again. Right. Well, this is clearly a case where I
will just have to put my fears at rest. I'll just go over there, deeper
into that
graveyard and see for myself. Oh wait, is that a headlight? No. Blast.
Well, lets see. Lets fix that bayonette on this beat up old rifle and
see
whats in there. Why not go back and stand under the light? Well, if I
did THAT, I would NEVER get up the nerve to come back and sit down
on the steps would I? And I don't fancy standing there under that light
until dawn. Sort it out now, and get it over with."
So I looked around to make sure nobody could see me, fixed my
bayonette, and crept up on that grave stone, glad that there was nobody
there to see me! I could see that hand reach around, sweep sideways,
then go back out of sight. Plain as day. So I stepped softly, and then
suddenly jumped around the stone to surprise the resident.
And I flushed a pheasant.
Poor thing was just eating the rice scattered from the wedding earlier
in the day, and this big thing (me) scares the be-jazus out it. So it
beats the air "thump thump thump" and gobbles in fear as it launches
right up in my face. What I had seen in the half light was its long
white
tail feathers, which my overactive imagination had interpreted as a
skeleton hand. When you flush a pheasant it makes as much noise as
it can to scare the crap out of an attacker, and it nearly did that! I
thought my heart had stopped though!
Well, shortly after that, my relief guys arrived, found me standing out
under the light, calm and composed and way too happy to
see them to complain about their being late. And I have NEVER been back
to that town.