In the spirit of Halloween anyone have any good ones? Like any from Whiteman AFB. I have some good ones from Kadena AB. I was area supervisor one night and 2 guys called me on the radio to tell me to meet them by one of the gates that closed at night. When I got to the area they said they had seen someone in the gate shack. We went over to see if there was anyone there and you could see a shadow of someone bent over writing ( this was at about 3:00 am and no one was supposed to be there at night) I opened the door and no one was there. That morning I went to get the guard to man the gate, a Japanese civilian guard, and I asked him about it, he made me stop at the chow hall and get some salt to sprinkle around the gate shack. He told me another CG had shot himself there 2 weeks before and his ghost was haunting the gate.

This is one of those urban legends passed down from soldier to soldier for years.

A soldier falls asleep standing in the guardhouse of his post one night. He was new to this detail and the long hours had been taking their toll. As the required knowledge of this detail swirled through his head, he began to dream. Thoughts of a rice paddy in Vietnam with the UH-1's inbound, suddenly the skeleton of US GI appeared in front of him and fired an M16 in his direction. He swears that he could actually hear and feel the bullets hitting his body. He saw the nametag and it was the name of one of the persons from this detail who had volunteered to go to Vietnam and died. At this point, our sleepy soldier awakens with a jolt, just in time to see the outline of this soldier walking across the detail area, M14 in hand. The outline turned to him and in a soft voice said "Stay alert son" then disappeared.

Like I said, passed down from soldier to soldier.

Well this is a story and kind of spooky but see it actually happened to me. When I was in the Marines , I was stationed in Charleston S.C. ( Goose Creek to be exact). The base I was on was 5 miles to the nearest gate and everything in between was heavy forrest.Going the other direction , you could walk all day and not run into another road. The stream that ran down through one side of the Gov't. property had gators and deer. A lot of wild life to give you an idea of how remote this place was.  Anyway, we would conduct patrols to catch poachers. These were patrols w/live ammo and standerd use of force was authorized which could mean lethal if it came to it. It was dark about 10:00pm or so and we were on our patrol when we started to see a light off about 300 yds or so. All of us "snooped and pooped" our way  up till we were about 75 yds out . the light was a small fire and we thought it was a campfire. We continued getting closer and something came over all of us at the same time. It was the feeling of something wasn't right. We decided to scout the perimeter in case people didn't see us and we wanted to keep it that way using the fire to illuminate them and not us. Well, the thing was is that we didn't see ANYBODY. As we got closer tere was no movement . We posted LP's and OP's and went into the "campsite". What the campsite turned out to be was actually an EXTREMELY old cemetary. There were candles and a pentagram drawn in the dirt with what looked like blood. A dead cat lay between 2 candles and a bowl with blood and some kind of bones in it. After assessing the situation we decided what we had stumbled on was a ceromony of some kind. Voodoo was ( and still could be) still practiced by decendants of setlers that came from Haiti and other islands south of Florida. What really bothered me though was that something tipped these people off! We were moving with no sound the entire patrol. We took great care in prepping our gear to make it as quiet as possible. They could not have heard us coming! It was spooky and still get's the hair to stand up on my neck. Wierd!  

tagged

Quoted: Well this is a story and kind of spooky but see it actually happened to me....

This is a PRIME example of exactly what i like to read before going to bed...

Stainless

When I was in New Mexico, Kirtland AFB, I worked a post that was on th opposite side of Manzno Mt from the main base, this place was remote and we pulled 12 hr shifts out there alone. One night I was there and looked over at Manzano and saw lights moving along the side of the mountain so I called it in to see if security had something going on. I was informed that there was nothing going on in the area. This is a very secure area (electric fences the whole nine) and the security guys took their job VERY seriously! The only thing I can think is ghost lights. Later that night I heard a vehicle driving down the road right past my gate but there was nothing on the road. Other people talked about seeing an indian in a war bonnet riding a horse down the road. I'll tell you this much when 6:00 am would roll around it sure was nice to see vehicle lights down the mountain coming to pick you up.

Back at Lakenheath we had a little storage structure that was supposedly a morgue during WW2. I don't know if it is really true or not but you could see in the first room 4 spots where tables used to be attached to the floor, and the back 2 rooms were open each with 1 door in and out. Used to be sometimes you would go to open the front steel door and it would smoothly open up, other times you could jerk and pry and it wouldn't budge then after a few it would open up smooth. Any way the place is torn down now so who knows. But I tell you one thing England sure is a freaky place, never really believed in ghosts until living over there.

Forgot another one from Lakenheath. Was told there was a crewchief working an a 111 in a HAS, and ejected himself into the roof. Just so happens this HAS is the last one back in the woods. Go Figure.

What is a Militray base?????????????????

Tinker AFB,Okla has an alleged haunted hanger. Bldg 230 had a fire many years ago and some people lost their lives. Their screams can still be heard inside this dark and spooky hanger.


PS. I inadvertantly posted this as a new post titled Tinker AFB. My error.

Quoted: What is a Militray base?????????????????

Its a base for militray!  Next brain buster, please.

Here's one for you that happened to me 22 yrs ago.

I'll qualify this first by saying that I don't believe in ghosts but, what happened one night on a tank range WAS very weird and I STILL don't know what the hell was going on out there in the dark. I "think" this is a story about sleep-deprivation (It makes all sorts of fun stuff possible) but who knows.......(?)

Also, about three weeks before this happened a Staff Sargent who'd been very supportive of me when I first came to the unit had been killed in a motorcycle accident.

OK, here's MY "Ghost story".



We'd moved the tanks (M60A1's) to the range and they were lined-up by late afternoon to wait overnight for their crews to bore-sight them in the morning.  A private (ME) and an E-4 were picked to stay with the tanks overnight and we had all our snivel gear with us to try and pass the night as comfortably as possible.  I'd brought a copy of the local newspaper too to read during my shifts (The Specialist and I were going to switch-off every 4 hrs 'till dawn.).  One of us would sleep in the range shack while the other kept an eye on the vehicles.  The days leading-up to our gunnery had been extremely busy for me (My tank was short a crew member and the three of us in the crew had been working "OT" in the motor-pool to prep' it for gunnery).  BII layouts, PMCS, stealing stuff from other peoples BII layouts ()....the usual things a tank crew do in garrison but short one guy.  Lots of long days and not too much sleep.  By the time I found myself on the range that night I was probably more asleep than awake even though my eyes were open and I was walking around.

The Spec'-4 I was with told me he'd take the first shift and I headed-off to the range shack to crash.  As tired as I was I don't think I must've slept an hour in the four hours I had available (Ever been too tired to sleep?) and WAAY too soon the Specialist was shaking me awake to take my turn.  I got up and put my boots on and stepped outside to see what the night looked like.  It was pitch-black.  So dark in fact that the '60's, just 70 or 80 yards away from the shack were just large "Blobs" a little darker than the night itself.  The Spec'-4 passed me on his way into the shack and mentioned that "Every's cool out there" and then heading in to sleep.  I lit a smoke and continued to try and wake-up while my eyes adjusted to the blackness all around me.  A gentle, cool breeze was blowing across the range and getting sand in my eyes as I stood outside the shack and I eventually decided that being inside my tank would be better than being out here in the dark and besides, I could read the paper I'd brought to pass the time and do periodic checks on the vehicles during my shift.

So I headed back inside the shack and grabbed my paper and smokes and a bottle of pop I had (The Sp-4 was already fast asleep and snoring) and then I was out the door and headed for my tank.  MY '60 was at the far left of the row of Armor and I clambered up onto it and paused before opening the loaders hatch and looked down the line of dark shapes stretching away from me.  Everything was still.  Just a bunch of 50 ton steel monsters, the wind, and the dark.  I opened the hatch and climbed in.

Once inside I hand-cranked the turret to the right enough so I could reach into the drivers station and flip the Master-Battery switch to the "ON" position and then energized the turret (Is the accumulator firing-up the best sound ever? lol) and turned on the interior lights (So I could read) and bumped the TC over-ride back to the left.  We'd just switched from the red interior lights to the blue and the inside of the tank was bathed in that cold, blue glow reflecting off white paint.  I jumped around the turret turning the lights up and then settled myself in the TC's slot below the Cupola with my feet up on the back of the gunners seat and started to read my paper.  Cool, this wont be such a bad 4 hrs after-all.

So I'm sittin' there at 1am reading the paper in my tank.  I'm readin' ALL the articles to make it last and every once in awhile pop the TC's hatch and look down the line of dark shapes to make sure everythings OK.  About 1:15 I decide I should walk the line and do a physical check.  I climb-out through the hatch and head off on the grill side (The rear) 'till I get to the end and then come back on the front-slope side (The front) 'till I get back to my tank.  Everything's quiet.  The breeze is still blowing and rustling the tarps stowed in the bustleracks of the tanks but other than that it's pretty peaceful.  The stars are out and I can "just" make-out the shape of the range-shack to the rear.  The shack is dark and quiet too. I climbed back up on my tank and sat on the Cupola hatch with my legs dangling inside while I smoke a cigarette.  I thought about my friend the Staff Sargent who'd been killed in the accident (I remember thinking he was "Old" at 27.  At the time I was 19 and 27 WAS an 'Old guy".  At 41, I realize what a kid he was when he died).  I finished my smoke and slithered back down into the blue glow of the tanks interior and closed the hatch above me.

I started to worry a little about running the batteries down so I climbed into the drivers position and fired her up.  I sat there for about 15 minutes running the tank and getting the heater (Ours worked!) to warm-up the inside and then shut her down and returned to my perch on the TC's seat with my paper.  It's almost 2 am by now.  

Here's where the weird shit starts.  Old (Diesel-engined) Tankers and truckers know there's only ONE sound like an engine firing up.  It's a sound you can't confuse with anything else.  Crank an M60' series tank (Or a Peterbuilt) and the sound you hear is like nothin' else in the world.  SOOO.....................I'm sittin' there in my tank at 2 am readin' the paper when the tank "Next-Door" (Just to my right) fires-up.............!  WTF?!  I'm sittin' there readin' and I hear that mother' turn over and reach idle.  What?!  Did the Spec'-4 get cold out there in the shack and find his way to HIS tank and crank it up to get some heat???  I'm sittin' there with the paper on my lap listening to the tank next to me run.  "what a dumbass!" (I thought)  "He should've been able to see the blue light through the vision blocks in MY tank and popped-in here to get warm".  Anyway, ain't no reason to be running TWO tanks tonight.  I'll just pop the hatch and go go over and get him and see if he wants to BS with me over here.  I can hear the tank next to me idling pretty strong and can even feel the vibration of it's engine in MY '60.  

I reach-up over my head and pull the TC's hatch lock and stick my head and shoulders out through the hatch facing the direction of the noise.

Nothing.  Total silence except for the wind and the dark and the stars.  The second I cracked the hatch the noise stopped and I was standing there looking down a row of empty and dark M60's.  Hm.....OK, he shut-down just as I opened the hatch.  I stood there for a couple of minutes peering over at the other tank trying to see if I could catch a faint blue glow around the Cupolas vision blocks but they were as dark as the rest of the tank.  I looked over at the range shack but couldn't see anything there either.  I HATE "Mysteries" so I clambered down the front of my ride and walked over to the shack to see what the hell was up with the Spec'-4.  I can hear him snoring the second I walk through the door.  He's OUT.  No way HE was just over there runnin' the tank.  GREAT!  Someone ELSE (Probably a GD'd NCO!) is out here goofing off or doing some last minute BS in prep' for gunnery tomorrow.  I better go and see who the hell it is.

I walk over to the tank next to mine and climb-up.  I open the loaders hatch and it's pitch black in there.....anybody home....?  OK........I know I didn't just IMAGINE this thing running so I clinb back off of the tank and walk to it's rear.  I put my hand (Slowly) up to the grill on the rear to feel for heat and it's ice cold.  No way this thing's been run for a long time.  I glanced back over at MY tank and can see the dull blue light from the hatch against the darkness.  Hmmmm....weird.  Oh well, the mind (and ears) play funny tricks on you at night I figure and head back over to my '60.  I climb back up and into the TC's hatch and stare again down the line of dark Armor for a moment trying to figure out just what the hell it was I'd just heard.  "You're stoned dude" "Get back inside and get warm jerk".  Back down through the hatch I go and then lock it above me.  I sorta shrugged and retrieved my paper and found an interesting article to read.  I'm just into the second or third paragraph of the story I'm reading when the tank next-door cranks again!  NO DOUBT this time!  I'm listening CLOSE!  I hear the whole thing.  The initial skipping of the exhaust stacks as the engine tries to catch and then the smoothing out as the motor settles into an idle.  I'm NOT imagining this (I tell myself), that SOB tank next to me is RUNNING!  SOMEBODY 30 ft away from here is sitting in that tank with the engine turning over.  I can HEAR the damn thing.  I sat there for a couple of minutes just listening to it run.  I turned down the lights inside and tried peering through the cupola's vision blocks to see if I could make anything out but all I saw was my own reflection looking back at me against the dark glass.

F*CK this!  What the hell's going on?  I pop the hatch again and am JUST pushing it upward as I hear the engine die with a couple of coughs.  I'm standing again with most of my upper body out of the hatch and looking toward the other tank.  It's dark and silent.  Just like it was a few minutes before when I'd checked it and HERE is where I 'Think" I started to "Get" what was going on.  As I was standing there looking over the right-side of my tank at the one next to me a "funny" thought came to me.................("It got you outside again.............") I've never tried too hard to consider just what the "IT" was but the thought hit me pretty hard and I became a believer in "IT'S" on the spot.  I also KNEW (I just KNEW!) that there was "something" squating on the loaders hatch of my own tank just a few feet behind me that REALLY wanted me to turn around and say "hi".  The thought that "It" could've reached over and tapped me on the shoulder to get my attention hit me about a nano-second after I sensed it was there.  Even today I'm not sure what 'IT" was but, I wasn't about to turn around for shit lol.

The next few seconds were the creepiest.  With an ABSOLUTE certainty that there was someone AWFUL watching me from behind I S-L-O-W-L-Y decended back into the tank and gently pulled the TC's hatch down on top of me as I went convinced that a hand was going to appear on the hatch to stop me from closing it (At which point I would've blasted through the turret side armor like the worlds biggest sabot round!).

Once I got the hatch down and locked I looked up at the vision blocks.  They were black against the blue light of the interior lights.  "It's going to look in on you now...."  The vision of something hideous pushing it's face against the vision blocks from the outside and peering in suddenly seemed like a real possibility so I crumpled-up some newspaper and stuffed it around the 'blocks (Take THAT you creepy whatever! lol)

I'd just finished THAT little act of irrationality when the tank next door started-up again.  F....U.....Mo'Fo'!  I ain't comin' out fer NOTHIN'! lol  THIS time though, "IT", "HE".."WHATEVER"....was revving the engine.  Letting it idle for a few seconds and then flooring it 'till I thought it (The engine) would blow and then letting it idle back down again only to repeat the cycle every 20 seconds or so.  This went on for maybe 15 minutes and then it got quiet again.  I waited a few minutes more and there was nothing else.  Just the wind outside.  finally, I settled back down and started to read my paper again.  I wasn't reading as much as I was going over the last hour in my head trying to make some sense of it.  At some point I started to think of my buddy who'd been killed recently and thought "Jay, is that YOU man?"  "Are you just F'ng with me fer funsies ?" (I'd been worried about my first "REAL" gunnery and Jay had assured me he'd make sure I did OK. He told me that he'd be around on the range to answer any questions I might have.  Only problem was, a car full of drunk college kids killed him before he could show me the ropes).

Anyway, I ended-up sitting in that sucker 'till I could see the beginnings of a Texas sunrise through the vision blocks (I pulled the paper away and checked every once and awhile).  Around 5 am I opened the hatch again went and woke the SP-4.  He really appreciated me letting him sleep all night lol  "No prob' man, I wasn't doin' anything else"

Like I said. Sleep deprivation.  I don't know 22 yrs later WHAT it was I heard or "sensed" that night but I've always wondered what would've happened if I'd turned around that second time I came out of the hatch to see if there WAS something sitting behind me on the loaders hatch with a big, shit-eatin' grin on it's face.  I'm glad I didn't

I've heard many... experienced one.

I was a Marine MP at MCAS El Toro and was walking my post, "Bravo 10."  I was guarding CH-46's, and these were old-timers dating back from the Viet Nam War.  It was 1987, and we had lots of troops, so the post right next to mine was also manned by another Marine.  He was "Bravo 11."  At about 3:30 a.m. or so, he calls me on the radio and asks if I see anything near the hangar.  I look, and I did in fact see what appeared to be a small child, probably around 10-12 years old.  I told him that I did, and we both made our way carefully and quietly towards the suspect on the flightline.  There was no way that this kid could escape from us, because we had him/her surrounded.  As we got closer (probably within 75 yards), the kid turned around, smiled, and "melted" into the wall behind him/her.  The kid looked asian to the two of us.  The guy on Bravo 11 just happened to have gotten back from a psych eval, and him being about 6'5" and me being 5'7", he told me not to mention this to anyone on shift or he'd pummel me in the barracks.  I thought it was a good idea to not mention it at the time, since I also thought he was crazy (hence his psych eval).  I've not written this story or mentioned it to anyone since... I'm guessing that "Bravo 11" isn't too worried about the story getting out now.  I don't know if what I saw was real or not, or just some sort of hysteria brought about by boredom, being very tired, or just our minds playing the same tricks on us at the same time... I'm not sure.

My favorite story of ghosts on base happened out at what we called "Bravo 6 and 7."  A LCpl was guarding the A-4M's that were there at the time, and he fell asleep.  When he woke up, he saw that one of the planes was being worked on by what appeared to be a Marine in his green coveralls.  For MP's, this was always a good thing, because if a unit came in to work at night, they would sign our logbook and take responsibility for the flightline, and then we could go on to patrol in a nice, comfortable patrol car.  Anyway, the LCpl approaches the "mechanic" and challenges him (as per SOP).  The mechanic looks at the LCpl, says "SSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" and continues working.  The LCpl wasn't having any of this, so he points his M16 at him and tells him to get off the plane and to identify himself.  Once again, the mechanic looks him in the eye and says "SSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"  A third challenge is issued, this time with a bolt being charged, and the mechanic, clearly annoyed, stands up on the wing and jumps off... except he continues through the ground and disappears.  Here's where I enter the story.  I was on Bravo 3 that night, about a mile or so away.  It was night-time, so I know sound travels well in the cool night air, but I heard a scream; a blood-curling scream.  I then hear him come on the radio calling the Watch Commander out to see him ASAP.  When shift was over, I come to find out that he had to be relieved of duties, and he refused to go back out on the flightline ever again.  He said the mechanic had longish hair cut short around the ears and neck, and wore black BCD eyeglasses.  He was kind of pale looking, and his eyes were black.  The MP was eventually was taken off the watch, sent to the "Head Shed" where he did paperwork until he was discharged (on his normal ETD).  

you should of looked........then you'll know that there's more to this world than just nuts/bolts

Tread, was that story from Hood?

Quoted: Tread, was that story from Hood?

Yeah, my good ol' 1/7 days.  

Quoted: What is a Militray base?????????????????

It is like a port on land and there are no boats.  

Quoted: My favorite story of ghosts on base happened out at what we called "Bravo 6 and 7."  A LCpl was guarding the A-4M's that were there at the time, and he fell asleep.

That one and the tank one by Treadhead weirded me out for the day.

Tagged

There are hundreds of ghost stories surrounding the Tomb of the Unknowns. Everything from the "Lady in White" who mystically floats across the plaza from time to time. To a small child that stands on the mall below the amphitheatre and stares at the sentinel walking post.

I wish I had something interesting to tell you guys, but unfortunately, my ghosts turned out to be older sentinels f'ing with me and drunken bums wandering through the cemetary.

From another board...

I am an ex-serviceman and whilst serving I heard this from a friend of mine who was not bullshitting...you KNOW when you're being told the truth...It concerns a "favorite" service past time "exercises" or war games to the uninitiated. A pain the fucking arse they are. To the story...

My mate's unit was on a training area in Germany in the mid-80s: Bergen-Belsen. Part of the concentration camp area. They were NOT allowed to dig in to make trenches on account of the dead bodies lying there. They were told to build sangars (above ground fortifications, in this case made of sandbags) and look for intruders...Quiet day during the day, nothing happened. At night at about 2am my mate and his oppo saw what they thought were flames about 100 yds away and the "flames" were moving around back and forth, but nothing was being burned (no buildings or flammable materials there) They also said they thought they could hear screaming, but it was pitched so high and came and went that they weren't sure...They shat themselves and it took all that they had not to call it in or RUN LIKE FUCK.

They reported it when they were relieved next morning and were told that the area they had seen the flames used to be where they conducted medical experiments on kids, and that the flames and screaming were their ghosts...

I tell you this, my mate was not making this up; he still looked shocked and scared when he told it...

From another board

In 1980 I was working as a crusher operator at Homestake Uranium Mill in New Mexico. The Mill was the oldest mill in the area and of course had several fatal accidents over it's history. There were several places in the mill that were rumored to be haunted, such as a ghostly maintenance man in the filter building who occasionally fixed things, or allegedly the settling tanks were twice drained when two different people swore they saw someone thrashing in the water where a cleaning man had drowned years earlier. But (lucky me) I worked in Crusher building which had the most actually FEARED spot in the mill. The room was called "12 belt". It was an underground bare concrete room, about 20' by 30 ft long, whose only feature was a conveyer belt that ran along one of the 30 foot walls, about five feet from the wall. It had a chute that dumped ore from the crusher, which sat directly above the room on the main floor. The chute extended from the ceiling to the belt and ran the length of the belt, effectively creating a wall that seperated about five feet of the room from the rest. You had to walk around the head of the belt to get to the area between the conveyer belt and the wall. The strange thing is that there is no definate story as to who or what lurked in 12 Belt but unlike the joking and/or teasing that accompanied the other "hot spots" of the mill, people really didn't like 12 Belt. My first clue about that was the fact the room was so brightly lit. In the rest of the mill, about one quarter to one third of the lights were burnt out and people only got around to replacing them when it got to dim to work, but never in 12 Belt. As soon as a light burnt out, it was replaced.
When I got transferred to crusher building from the labor pool (called Bull Gang) I naturally started at the bottom of the pecking order. And naturally I was assigned 12 Belt as one of the areas I had to clean. At first impression the only thing of interest was the sound, the crusher on the floor above made this incredibly deep hum that was very loud but so deep pitched that you could barely hear it. Other than that it was a bare, well lit concrete room. I was only in there 5 minutes though before I got the most powerful sensation I wasn't alone. If you have ever had the sensation that someone was watching you, imagine magnifying that to the sensation that someone was almost standing directly behind you staring right down your neck. It was that powerful. After spending several minutes constantly looking over my shoulder, my internal radar seemed to locate the "presence". I "felt" that it was on the other side of the belt in that five foot "alleyway" that was cut off from my vision and the rest of the room. I could also "feel" it begin to slowly move up the belt towards the head pulley where it could come around and be in the room with me. Again, the sensation was so powerful, that even though I was telling myself I was being silly, I was pacing down the belt with my shovel cocked like a baseball bat. When I reached the head pulley, I screwed up my courage and quickly stepped around the pulley and looked down the "alley". There was nothing there. I quickly finished sweeping up, and left. This happened almost every third or fourth night for the next month and a half and I almost considered quitting. Then the crusher operator quit and I applied for his position and got it. So no more 12 belt.
While I was operator, they decided to just have different people from Bull Gang come work for us to take my place. One of them, a Navajo, quit on the same night he started for us. He just came up to the control room, visibly upset about something, and told me he was going home. That was all. I later found his shovel and broom where he left them, in 12 Belt.
And then came the worst night. (God, I have goosebumps on my arms just typing this) The Bull Gang was short handed so each of the rest of the crusher crew had to divvy up jobs that the laborer was supposed to do. I got 12 belt. There was a big storm going on outside, but since we were inside I barely noted it. When it came time to clean 12 belt, I just gritted my teeth and resolved to be in and out of there in fifteen minutes time, so I went down there and started sweeping. I was somewhere in the middle of the room, when lightning must have hit a transformer and the power went out. Remember, this room is underground, so suddenly I was in absolute blackness, and had no idea which way I had been facing. Worse, I suddenly felt the "presence" even stronger than it had ever been before.
All I could do was feel around with my broom until it struck something solid. When it did, I followed it until I felt that I was up against the chute and the belt. The bad part was that I could feel "it" was on the other side of the chute and starting to walk up the belt again towards the head pulley. I paced it about what I felt was half way up the belt and then blindly took an angle across the room to where I thought the stairs should be. When I bumped into the corner of the room, I was momentarily confused, and for a second had the unnerving thought that the stairs were gone. But then I realized I must have walked under them. The problem was that for the first time, I felt "it" finally reach the end of the belt and come around the head pulley for the very first time. It was now in the room with me. Naturally, I was telling myself the whole time to stop letting my imagination make things worse, and to just step forward a couple of paces take 5 paces to my left to where the stairs had to be. I was about halfway through this process, when something "clapped" onto my shoulder.
The only way to describe that kind of fear is to say it felt like my spine had disentigrated in an electric explosion. I don't even remember how I found the stairs and got to the main floor. I don't remember if I screamed. My coworker Louis will never forget though, how I ran his ass completely over when he stepped into the door of the building to yell for me and find out where I was. Even when I finally stopped, it took me several minutes to collect my mind enough to talk coherently.

In the end, it was noticed that there was a huge dust smear on my shoulder, and theorized that what probably happened was that dust had caked up on the damp ceiling caused by the rain, and part had fallen off and hit me in the darkness. It is a plausible theory because I had swept up several dust cakes earlier. But I never set foot in 12 belt again. About 2 months later, the mill had a big layoff which I was part of so it never became an issue.

I never saw any ghosts there but Camp Pendleton CA gets really wierd at night. We used to frequently here platoons running and singing cadances at night, even though nobody out there runs at night. The first building I worked in was the 1st FSSG GPAC, and had been a barracks in the 1940's. You would constantly hear people walking around, and occasionally talking at night after everyone was gone.

tagged!

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tagged

Tag. I got creeped out in broad daylight reading this.

There is allegedly a headless Major who haunts one of the remote aircraft parking areas at Andersen AFB, Guam.  

I've never been there, but heard the same stories from several people I met during my career.

One guy said he was sitting in the cockpit of a B-52 one night and saw someone walking toward the airplane in the darkness.  He then heard someone board the airplane and come up the stairs behind him.  When he turned, no one was there.

It's also rumored that they'd find airplanes with electrical power turned on, but nobody around.

Most of my time was as a Crew Chief on C-141s.  Back in the early/mid-70s there was an incident that resulted in the death of an Airman.  He was lubricating the pitch trim jackscrew up in the tail.  At the time you had to crawl over the top of the jackscrew to get at the grease fittings on the gymbal nut, then a coworker in the cockpit would run the pitch trim while you lubed it.  This jackscrew is roughly in diameter and about 5 feet long.  This guy was in the process of crawling over the jackscrew when the guy downstairs started running the system.  The man in the tail was impaled and died.  Afterward, the crew would right up things like, "Screaming sound heard over intercom system."

Then there was the Pod Monster.

On a C-141, the engine covers are stowed in compartments in the aft sections of the main landing gear pods, with access doors on top of the pods.  When we had an airplane parked on a remote spot we'd drop off a new guy to put engine covers on and drive away.  What he didn't know was that we had dropped off another guy earlier, who hid inside the pod compartment.

We did this to one newbie, who pulled a stand over to the compartment and reached in to get an engine cover in the dark.  Matt (the pod monster) handed him a cover.  The newbie then reached in for a second cover, which again was handed to him.  The third time he reached in Matt grabbed both of his arms and roared.

We were parked a couple hundred yards away, watching.  This guy set a record for running that distance and started screaming hysterically about a gorilla on the airplane!  We were dying!!!!

Although this isn't a bona fide ghost story, our victim would have argued the point!

I was stationed at MCRD San Diego at 1st RTBN and lived in older squad bays above the S-1 (second floor).  There were stories of the place being haunted that were quickly spread after I moved in.  One night I was in my rack (bottom) and dozing off w/ my headphones/radio on.  I was just about to sleep and my rack started shaking.  People are known to fuck with you while sleeping so I just blew it off.  Then it happened again and I sat up and looked around.....nothing.   It happened again and I got outta my rack and quickly ran around trying to locate the fuck that was shaking my rack.   Everyone else was asleep.  The next day I learned it was an earth quake.  Sorry not ghost here but I was freakin at the time that it happened.

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Quoted: I'm sittin' there in my tank at 2 am readin' the paper when the tank "Next-Door" (Just to my right) fires-up.............!  WTF?!  I'm sittin' there readin' and I hear that mother' turn over and reach idle.  What?!

16th Engineers, Furth, Germany, ‘88-91.  I was on guard duty when a call came in from the motor pool guard that an 88 (tank recovery vehicle) was running, but all locked up.  We woke up the mechanics that crewed it and told them to come down to the motor pool with the keys to the hatch lock.  Sure enough, locked up tight and just idling along.  Latter that year the tank stared up while the mechanics were sleeping in it during field exercise.  IIRC the 88 recovery vehicle is build on the M-60 chassis.  

Shortly after returning to garrison “Christine” was stenciled on the side.  

This particular vehicle had a serial number of 00018 or something there about.  I’d guess it was built sometime in the 60’s.  

Fitzsimons Army Medical Center, Aurora, CO

I worked as a medic in the ER in 1995 - 1996. At night we would have to occasionally have to go to the medical records building at night to retrieve records for an ER patient. The medical records building used to be the old Fitzsimons TB ward where a lot of soldiers died. We would have to enter the closed building in the dark (the light switch was not near our enterance) with a flashlight. We would hear things like blowing window blinds (no A/C in this building), foot steps, and talking. It was always a quick trip to the medical records building. If the record wasn't in the exact location it should be filed in then we didn't stay around to look elsewhere.


Another "ghost story" involved our ambulance. One of our own ER staff was severely injured in a motorcycle accident. While transporting him to the ER the crew tried to save his life but he died in the truck. Occasionally when we would do our morning checks on the ambulance the suction machine would turn on by itself. This was the same machine that was used to suction the medic that died in the ambulance. In the same ambulance, the engine would rev by itself. Once the idle switch was activated the engine normally would rev up to a certain point and maintain that intensity. Once in a while the engine would continue to rev and would cause the engine to red line (not normal). It could have been an engine problem, but no matter how many times it was reported a reason was never found. The concencus among the ER staff was that this ambulance was haunted by the medic that died in it.

Seems to be alot of .mil legends/ghost stories.  I'll add one.

In the early 90's I was staioned at Zweibrucken AB in Germany.  It was located smack-dab on a hilltop that was part of the WWII German Zeigfreid Line.  There were bunkers and old gun positions everywhere in the town and both on and off base.

The legend was when the US secured the area after the war a group of local farmers had become tired of a particulalrly nasty local nazi officer who was trying to blend in the small community to avoid detection.   The legend goes on to say that the farmers had been subject to his tyranny for years prior to the end of the war.  After a week or so of begging them to shelter him, a group of the farmers finally took him to a glen and hung him.   The portly officer begged for his life but refused to take responsibility for his actions.

Our munitions storage bunker area was built on this glen years later.  The NCOs told us youngsters the place was home to the officer, who still wandered through the glen (MSA) looking for a place to hide.  His nickname was "Old red eyes" and you could see his shadow on top of the bunkers on quiet nights.  Some civilian old guys had sworn they had seen him peeking in the antiquated guard shack windows, his evil eyes glowing red.  

I had worked the MSA for the first time on the night shift and the place was pretty creepy even all lit.  It was on the far end of the base and was a 5 min CUC-V ride just to get there.  You could hear a mouse fart out there at night.  We had to do hourly physical checks of the bunkers.  The area itself was about 4 acres or more. I was pretty creeped out so I would do mine locked and loaded with my 16 unslung and ready.  As I was rounding the corner of a bunker, the perimeter lights all went off.  I froze in place and then the CONX and bunker lights all went off around me.  All I could see were two glowing red dots about 70 yards in front of me by the fenceline.  I went numb but regained my wits just before the asshole Sgt and my LT flipped the lights back on.  The "eyes" were a junction box with two red lights for the emergency power supply.

@$$holes.  Luckily they were watching through NVGs BEHIND me.  The next 10 times we did this to the noobs, we made sure their weapons were secured in the gatehouse.  Funny as shit, though.  

I have heard locals say the story itself is true(minus the red-eyes part) , but I still call BS.

NorCal      

Quoted: The "eyes" were a junction box with two red lights for the emergency power supply.

Bwahahahaha, the sonsabitches! dude that is SUCH a classic.

Quoted: From another board I felt "it" finally reach the end of the belt and come around the head pulley for the very first time. It was now in the room with me. Naturally, I was telling myself the whole time to stop letting my imagination make things worse, and to just step forward a couple of paces take 5 paces to my left to where the stairs had to be. I was about halfway through this process, when something "clapped" onto my shoulder.

Now how am I supposed to sleep tonight?

Keep' em coming guys!

Ft Polk, Lousiana. In December  1979.  

Out in the field,  colder than anything I want to remember.  Wind blowing like crazy and a little sleet from time to time.

We're shooting an azimuth back to the trucks, having been out all night, when we see red lights.  A pair,  looking EXACTLY like tail lights.  Even flash together from time to time  like you would expect if someone  stepped on the brakes.  No headlights though.  

Now, keep in mind this is in a training area. No roads,  not even enough room between the trees for a vehicle. Nevertheless we figure it to be a bunch of locals up to no good.  (They liked to pick metal and steal anything they could off the base.  There were hundreds of ways in thru the woods)

So,  what the heck,  let's intercept them.  It was pretty easy, they were going at an angle to our base course.  Slow as anything.  Couldn't be more than a hundred yards or so.   (No one thought  at the time that if they were tail lights,  why could we see them coming TOWARDS us?  We had them under observation for better than 20 minutes)

We came to a cleared area, old sand pit. Watched the lights go across.  We were within 40 feet.  Could see the glow shine on trees as they went past.  Heck,  we could see each other.  They put out as much light as a 40 watt bulb.

It occured to all 7 of us at the same time.

No engine noise.  No kind of noise at all.
Those lights aren't following the terrain but maintaining a constant altitude.  Even over the drop off  Against a steady 25 mph or better wind.
They're the size of basketballs,     Certainly no vehicle attached.
One of the guys,  muttered the first word anyone had said, a very low "f##k!
The lights stopped, then went out.   Not faded,  but as if a switch was thrown.  

Oh HELL no!  EVERYONE'S flashlight came out at that point,  screw light discipline.  We went right to the edge of the pit,  slushy mud up to our ankles.
No tracks. Nothing at all but the little dimples sleet makes in mud.

That's it, reshoot the azimuth,  get the hell out. Found the trucks 700 yards later.  Made VERY good time.

My buddy and I went out two days later on a Saturday,  Intending to check it out in daylight.  We walked the entire route,  (Made very easy by the footprints in the mud)

Not a thing.  No vehicle or motorcycle tracks,  nothing disturbed at all.  Just 7 pairs of GI boot footprints.  The sand pit  was a  7 or 8 foot drop and nearly 200 yards across. It could not have gotten OUT either,  all the sides were nearly vertical.  the only thing  manmade in the pit was an old caterpillar tractor,  the kind where the blade was raised by a pulley.  Obviously abandoned years ago.

What did we see? I have no idea. Do I want to see it again?  NO WAY!    

Minot AFB ND. 1977 Fighter Alert Area. The story goes that a pilot crashed and burned after two fighters collided in midair. One plane returned. The pilots ghost haunts the alert fighter area and appears to personnel in the area. I never saw the ghost. But I know for a fact that we found a sentry cowering in shock on the floor of his gateshack. And I know I hated pulling that post. Gives me the creeps typing this now.

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Everyone knows the Batman and the LT story right?  Really Scary but not in a Halloween way.

Quoted: Everyone knows the Batman and the LT story right?  Really Scary but not in a Halloween way.

No. Do tell.

Quoted: Everyone knows the Batman and the LT story right?  Really Scary but not in a Halloween way.

How about the ether bunny story?

My first post in Germany was at Ayers Kaserne out in the middle of BFE, between Frankfurt & Giessen,
called Kirch-Göns.

During WW2, it had been a Luftwaffe fighter recovery field, where damaged fighters could land for
repairs after intercepting the bombers heading for Frankfurt. After the war, we'd taken the post over
and built barracks, motorpools, etc. for an armor brigade. Most evidence of it's wartime usage was
leveled or bulldozed over except for a few shelter bunkers within the perimeter fence, and the old
ammo bunkers in the woods outside of the fence. (At some point in the past, in an attempt to
demolish the bunker, but as thick as the walls were, blowing their doors off was all that was
accomplished.)

The locals insisted that the ammo bunkers were haunted (never did hear the story about who/what
was supposed to be haunting them), and I don't ever recall the local farmer working the area at that
end of the field. Anyway, when our unit had guard duty for the post's ammo-point (just on the other
side of the fence from the old bunkers), the guards would occasionally report seeing lights in/around
the old bunkers. We'd send a patrol over to check it out, but I never heard of anybody finding anything.

The general belief amongst us was that it was the potheads from post going over there, in search of
a private place to blaze up, and not Casper the Ghost's buddies.

a brand new LT graduates (Insert School here) and goes downtown.  Decides to get a hooker to celibrate.  Hooker gets a little kinky with said LT, handcuffs him face down to the bed and a guy dressed like Batman jumps out of the closet and has his way with the LT's 4th point of contact.  The Hooker and Batman then leave with the LTs wallet and such leaving him to be found by housekeeping the next day.

I heard it at Ft Benning, but a bud in the Arty said it was a Ft Sill Urban ledgend also.

Morestories!

I was stationed in Goose Creek also called pomflant. I have seen the cematery that coondog talked about. It was an old plantation grave yard. What happens in the pomflant will freak anybody out. We had a post in the far north east part of the base that was a tower style post. At night you could see a glow floating around the drainage ditch it looked like a civil war solider with no arms and legs. The scary part is you could here what sounded like screaming in the intercom system. If the driving post came around you could have the driver get out and direct him to were the glow was and the area would feel about 20 degrees colder. There is also the sgt of the guard that died while on post. He was never relieved of his post so he would still roam the area. It would look like truck lights on another road but when we would go investigate no truck. We had buildings that had been sealed for a couple years and the alarms would go off inside them. We could not get inside them to see what set the alarms off. They did open one because the alarms were going off as soon as we would reset them. The guys that went in said it sounded like people running around and mud water foot prints on the floor by the sclio in the building. The story is a civilian contractor was in the scilo pit when a weapon was lowered in and was crushed to death.

Like coondog said the patrols around the area at night were freakey. Some of the things you see and hear are just not right. My understanding is that the whole Charlston S.C. area is goast centeral.

I didn't know that the GC Naval Weapons Station had spooks.  

Hey- MDC85- how about going out into the boonies and checking these stories out for us!!!

Quoted: Quoted: What is a Militray base????????????????? It is like a port on land and there are no boats.

That would be a military base.  I still want to know what a militray base is.

I work at a headquarters building in St Augustine, FL, which is full of haunted houses and ghost stories, being the oldest city in North America.  About 18 months ago, one of the guys on night shift heard children playing across the street, in the courtyard of the oldest house in America (its real, and is a big tourist stop, only about 50 yards from where I work).

Anyway, he didn't see any kids when he went to investigate, and he passed it on in his report during shift change.  We found out the next day that that is one of the legends of the house - that you can sometimes here children playing at night in the courtyard.  This poor guy was a devout Catholic Puerto Rican, and needless to say he was scared shitless when he found out he had been sneaking around some ghosts.