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Thunderclap · Guest

This afternoon, David Newham, the author of Winter of Spies, and a few other books telephoned me to tell me that he was writing an article for my site about his sighting of a ghost. He is going to email it to me sometime next week and I will post it to empig.

If it is of interest, I expect that Manda will post it here for members to read.

David has lived in many areas of the world whilst serving in the Royal Air Force as a photographer and will have come across many strange phenomena during that time. Due to the emotionally charged state of these locations during the years of conflict, most RAF stations have the reputation of being haunted. Maybe I can persuade him to write more articles for us. I can but try. I would recommend his book, available at Amazon. It is a big book and in the end.........well I'd better not say.

Thunderclap · Guest

David has sent me the report he promised and it appears to be a recurring haunting. Very interesting, especially the way it was covered up. (To prevent frightening the members of the WRAF.)

alan · Posted: Fri Feb 24, 2006 10:26 pm Post subject:

Do keep us posted please, sounds a intresting story.
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Mandatas · Posted: Sat Feb 25, 2006 4:21 pm Post subject:

Thanks TC, I sure will if thats ok.

Sounds fantastic!!!

manda
x
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Mandatas · Posted: Sat Feb 25, 2006 5:44 pm Post subject:

Here it is - thanks TC!!

This report was sent in by David Newham

AN UNEXPECTED VISTOR

In 1965 I was serving as a photographer in the RAF and based at RAF Upavon in Wiltshire. It was a very isolated unit with little in the way of entertainment and so visits to the pub in the village, two miles away down the hill, was the only diversion. Ah, you may be thinking, this story already has an element of doubt and I certainly had been to the pub on the evening in question. Was what happened to me drink related? Hardly! I was a lowly airman in those days and that evening, through lack of funds, I was limited to two half pints of beer.

At around 22.00 I arrived back at my room in the barracks I shared with three other airmen. There was an Irishman called ‘Albert the Calvert’, a guy from Sherborne (whose name escapes me) and another called, Jack. Two beds were across each end of the room and I slept head-to-head under the window with the guy from Sherborne. A street light was immediately outside the window and so the room was never really dark and the importance of this to the story will soon be apparent.

We’d gone to bed and dropped off to sleep but I awoke at around 01.30 and had the sensation of somebody sitting on my bed. I could feel the pressure against my right thigh. As I opened my eyes I could see the distinct shape of a human form and it was indeed sitting on the side of my bed. At first I though it was one of my room mates who’d been out to the loo and, still half asleep, got the wrong bed. Then I noticed something strange. Although the room was well lit by the streetlamp outside the window, I could see no detail in the form itself – even the face, which was in perfect profile, was just a silhouette. The mental alarm bells had still not begun their clamour and I reached out a hand to thump the guy and tell him to get back to his own bed.
As I stretched out my arm I saw the profile of the face change as the figure turned its head to look at me – still in black silhouette. Before my hand reached its target, the figure leapt to its feet and darted away towards the end of the room, behind my head, where Jack slept. I jumped up in bed and twisted round to follow the figure, now thinking Jack was the culprit. But, to my discomfort, I could see Jack was still in bed and sound asleep. The figure, still just a black human form, dived under the bed. I switched on my bedside light and leapt from my bed – but the only thing under Jack’s bed was the usual dust and no sign of the fleeing figure. All three of my friends were fast asleep.

For some inexplicable reason I suddenly began to feel really very ill. Not nausea or anything so easily accepted, but a dreadful feeling I had never before experience. I didn’t sleep for the rest of the night and next morning reported to the Station Medical Centre. I eventually got to see one of the RAF medical officers and tried to explain what had happened and how I felt. He listened without making any comment and then rose from his chair, telling me he had to consult a colleague. After around 15 minutes he returned with a Squadron Leader who, if I remember correctly, was the Station Commander. Upavon was a small unit and did not warrant a boss of higher rank. The MO asked me to repeat the story and, when I’d finished, the squadron leader paused and thought for a while and then told me I’d obviously had a nasty experience and he sympathised, but I was not to repeat the story outside that room. He said it was to prevent copycat stories and panic in the WRAF block!

The dreadful feeling stayed with me for a couple of days but then disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. Then the shock…I was suddenly, with only a couple of days warning and right out of the blue, posted to Singapore. Once out there, the incident soon faded into the recesses of my mind and would have probably stayed there if it hadn’t been for an incident at RAF Laarbruck in 1978.

It was a miserable wet Sunday and I was Orderly Sergeant. That afternoon, bored out of my head, I’d gone into the mess anteroom. I was sat in a chair reading the paper, idly listening to a group of four NCOs (the only other occupants of the room) putting the world to rights. Then their conversation turned to ghosts. They were laughing at a film they’d seen on TV the previous evening but one of the group was looking rather uncomfortable. He finally interrupted the laughter to say he’d actually seen a ghost. The others hooted at the very thought but asked him to explain. He did explain and told of a strange experience he’d had at RAF Upavon in the late sixties. His story was almost word for word of the story I have just related. The others finally left having expressed their disbelief, leaving the storyteller still sitting in his chair and looking very embarrassed.

I couldn’t let the opportunity slip away so I walked over and asked him which barrack block had been his quarters. It was the same block in which I’d had my unfortunate experience. The room? The same one. He too had become ill and after visiting the Medical Centre the next morning, he was told he’d had a bad dream. He was also told to keep the experience to himself so as not to frighten the WRAFs. Just two weeks later he was posted overseas.

Ends

Manda
x
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Your angels and guides are there to help you - listen and you will find!

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karmicallyclose · Posted: Sun Feb 26, 2006 1:04 pm Post subject:

oh what a superb story!

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