I was talking to a friend, and she told me her great uncle had a really strange story from during the war. I guess his wife passed away while he was away during the war, so when he came back he married his brother's wife (his brother also passed in the war) to give his children a mother and her children a father... So he is kind of like a combination great uncle and grandfather.
I asked him about it, and here is the story pretty much as I remember it. I will call him H.
H enlisted in the army along with a bunch of his friends from their small town. There wasn't enough work to go around, and the army was supposed to pay well. They were all younger sons, so it seemed like a good idea. When he first went off, he was sent to be stationed in China. They didn't see any fighting - they were all together in one unit that was stationed well inside their lines, far away from the fighting. It was pretty deep in the woods, so they were fairly isolated. The thinking was that if the enemy was going to try to sneak behind their lines, they would do it by creeping through those kinds of places. They were basically just a lookout post in the middle of nowhere.
One night, it was H's turn to be up in one of the watch towers. There were four of them around the edges of the post, just out of view of the barracks in the middle. In the middle of the night, they were bombed. He spotted the planes and sounded the alarm. After the planes were out of view, he climbed down and went to check the damage and safety of those back in the barracks. He could see the light of flames in that direction and even though he wasn't supposed to leave the tower unless they called for him, he was worried about the guys he had grown up with.
It looked like they were worried about him too - they were already waiting at the edge of the tower clearing. They were very seriously talking to each other, and one of them was visibly upset... He could hear that they were really upset about one of the guys being hit directly. H knew it was bad. Scared to hear who it was, he called out to them. They turned around and raised a hand to wave to him, then stopped. They all stared in H's direction with utter horror on their faces.
Something was behind H, and it was not good by their looks. In a panic, H turned around to see his tower completely destroyed and in flames. It hadn't been just moments before when he climbed down from it. He turned back to ask them what was going on, he hadn't heard another bomb, but if they were continuing they needed to take cover now.
They were gone, already running down the path. H turned back one more time to look at his tower - and it was fine. No flames, not falling down, just the same as he had left it. Spooked, he ran to the barracks.
The building his friends had been in had taken a direct hit, one of the first bombs to come down. They had all been killed pretty much instantly. It was a wooden building, not designed to protect as much as it was to house people.
He told me that he doesn't believe in ghosts because his friends were most definitely real. His friends had looked at *him* as if they saw a ghost, and he had seen his own tower completely destroyed. He had overheard them distressed about how to handle the body, and upset that they would have to send word home... Wherever they were, he had been the one to take the hit. They were still very much alive.
He had nightmares for weeks afterward following them having his funeral, telling his family, etc. He said he often had a feeling of being in the wrong place - and was sure that some little bit of him was mixed up in worlds... And in another, his wife was still alive, as was his brother. He said it brought him comfort to know this.
Ghosts, according to him, are just glimpses into a different world where they were still alive. He had been the ghost in his friends' world.
I asked him about it, and here is the story pretty much as I remember it. I will call him H.
H enlisted in the army along with a bunch of his friends from their small town. There wasn't enough work to go around, and the army was supposed to pay well. They were all younger sons, so it seemed like a good idea. When he first went off, he was sent to be stationed in China. They didn't see any fighting - they were all together in one unit that was stationed well inside their lines, far away from the fighting. It was pretty deep in the woods, so they were fairly isolated. The thinking was that if the enemy was going to try to sneak behind their lines, they would do it by creeping through those kinds of places. They were basically just a lookout post in the middle of nowhere.
One night, it was H's turn to be up in one of the watch towers. There were four of them around the edges of the post, just out of view of the barracks in the middle. In the middle of the night, they were bombed. He spotted the planes and sounded the alarm. After the planes were out of view, he climbed down and went to check the damage and safety of those back in the barracks. He could see the light of flames in that direction and even though he wasn't supposed to leave the tower unless they called for him, he was worried about the guys he had grown up with.
It looked like they were worried about him too - they were already waiting at the edge of the tower clearing. They were very seriously talking to each other, and one of them was visibly upset... He could hear that they were really upset about one of the guys being hit directly. H knew it was bad. Scared to hear who it was, he called out to them. They turned around and raised a hand to wave to him, then stopped. They all stared in H's direction with utter horror on their faces.
Something was behind H, and it was not good by their looks. In a panic, H turned around to see his tower completely destroyed and in flames. It hadn't been just moments before when he climbed down from it. He turned back to ask them what was going on, he hadn't heard another bomb, but if they were continuing they needed to take cover now.
They were gone, already running down the path. H turned back one more time to look at his tower - and it was fine. No flames, not falling down, just the same as he had left it. Spooked, he ran to the barracks.
The building his friends had been in had taken a direct hit, one of the first bombs to come down. They had all been killed pretty much instantly. It was a wooden building, not designed to protect as much as it was to house people.
He told me that he doesn't believe in ghosts because his friends were most definitely real. His friends had looked at *him* as if they saw a ghost, and he had seen his own tower completely destroyed. He had overheard them distressed about how to handle the body, and upset that they would have to send word home... Wherever they were, he had been the one to take the hit. They were still very much alive.
He had nightmares for weeks afterward following them having his funeral, telling his family, etc. He said he often had a feeling of being in the wrong place - and was sure that some little bit of him was mixed up in worlds... And in another, his wife was still alive, as was his brother. He said it brought him comfort to know this.
Ghosts, according to him, are just glimpses into a different world where they were still alive. He had been the ghost in his friends' world.
