The Soldier in my Attic

This story is about what happened to my brother in the attic of my old house.

When I was 8 years old I lived in a long row of red brick terraced houses in the city of Manchester, UK. These houses were built during World War 2 and were one army barracks and home to soldiers and their families.

If you’ve ever watched the TV soap ‘Coronation Street’ you’ll know what type of houses I mean. The whole street looked like an L.S. Lowry painting.

The house was set over three floors, the living room, kitchen and bathroom on the first floor, my bedroom and my parents bedroom on the second, and the attic had been separated into two bedrooms for my brothers.

On the night this happened my eldest brother, who was 19 at the time, was staying at a friends house, my parents were at my nana’s house who lived next door but one, so my brother who was 17 was left looking after me.

It was around 9pm that I was sent to bed as I had school the next morning. About twenty minutes later, I was already asleep by then, my brother told me he went to be after checking on me.

He sat in his room playing on his PlayStation 1 until he fell asleep around 11pm. By then my parents were already home.

Sometime in the early hours of the morning, something woke me up. Groggy and tired I sat up in my bed and looked towards my door.

I should mention that I used to dream vividly as a child and had gotten used to seeing things when I was in that world of between consciousness and dreamland. So much so that I used to have full blown conversations with someone in my dreams while I was half awake, and my parents would come in my room to find me muttering to myself.

So something woke me up, I peered around my room for a second which was lit up dimly by my night light, before I looked at my door which was half open.

I saw a man. A soldier. He was wearing a khaki uniform, I’m not sure whether it was one of the camouflage ones as he was covered in mud. It was all over his clothes drying and cracking, all over his hands, on his face and under his chin.

He looked at my and asked me a question.

“Do you know where my mam is?”

I replied saying that I was sorry but I hadn’t seen his mother. He just looked and me and nodded and then walked away, I heard our attic stairs squeaking as weight was put on them.

I lay back down, falling back to sleep when I heard a scream and then rapid footsteps down both sets of stairs. By the time I had gotten out of bed the front door slammed and my dad was halfway down the stairs shouting after my brother. My mum had ran up the stairs to the attic but found nothing, just my brother duvet balled up in the corner of the room.

That night my brother went to his girlfriends and begged his girlfriends parents to let him stay. He stayed on their sofa for 4 days before my parents convinced him to come home.

In those 4 days I had told my mother countless times that the soldier went up the stairs to the attic but she just shook it off as one of my dreams.

When my brother came home he finally told everyone what happened.

He said he had been asleep when he was awakened by his duvet falling off him. Without opening his eyes he grabbed his duvet and pulled it up to his chin. Seconds later the duvet was roughly dragged off him and my brother shot up only to come face to face with the soldier.

My brother immediately thought it was one of our older brothers friends just fucking with him, so he went through shove the soldier away while cursing out our older brother. Except when he pushed the soldier he said his hands went straight through his chest.

For a minute he was shocked and looked up at the soldier, he said the soldier was looking down at my brothers arms through his torso with a look of horror on his face. This in when my brother started screaming and ran down the stairs.

No one believed either me or my brother.

The weird thing is that wasn’t the only strange thing that happened in that house. I guess there was multiple ghosts or spirits in that house because although many things happened after that, I never saw the soldier again.

Tolly

So, before I start I want to say that this is a story from two perspectives composed of me and my friend who’s like my brother, but lets catch up first. I wasn’t born in mexico but me, my mom and my friend Kale went to Mexico when I was around 3. so lets start.

I’m not sure how I remember this but I do. So me, my mom and my friend Kale who was 10 at the time went to mexico. Kale was very close to my family and when my mom needed to go down there she offered to take Kale seeing that me and him were like siblings. When we got there we checked into a hotel. Kale told me it was a very pretty house, It was like a Hawaii house but in mexico, right next to the beach he told me.

Now heres where Kale will provide a bit of information.

Monni was a very curious child, When her mother was busy I would take her down to the beach and show her the shoreline, sometimes we even went for a swim. I was 10 at the time so I was ok to look after her, now 24 she’s still like my sister. Anyway, even though its a pretty place there will always be people that would want to hurt such a innocent girl like she is. I caught her several times talking with older men… men trying to hurt her, She was only 3 so I couldn’t blame her but I would always rush in to save her. Besides that I would constantly find Monni running to the ocean anytime she could as we left the door open so it wouldn’t get so musty in the house.

When I asked her why all she said was.

“Because Tolly is doing it too! She’s calling me to join her.” She would giggle and smile.

“Who’s Tolly?” I would ask and every time she said.

“Tolly is my friend!” She would throw her hands up and hug me. “She’s waiting in the water!” She would point, but there’d be no one there. I would always look around for any small child but..nothing.

As our week came to an end and it was a day or two before we were to back he told me that he couldn’t find me in the house and rushed outside fearing I was drowning somewhere.

Johnny the Ghost

My family and I lived at a haunted property called ‘Gladstone villa’,  in the former mining town of Bargoed, originally a village that became a market town that grew vibrantly after the opening of the towns colliery in 1903.

It became part of the Caerphilly county borough of the South Wales valleys, with many of the buildings and stores dating back to over one hundred years.

My maternal grandfather was William George Higgs, known as Bill to his family and friends and he was born in the nearby village of Markham in 1925 when his parents  George and Edith moved there with the possibility of finding work.

He came from a working class family but his parents separated some time in 1930 and he had to move to his mothers home,  that of North road in Bargoed, he found a job as miner at Bargoed colliery some time in the 1940’s.

It was in the back garden of his mothers home that he met his future wife,  my grandmother Rita Cook who lived close by.

She was visiting relatives just next door when they started talking, and they dated for a while before they married in Cardiff in 1949.

They found a house together in Frances street but they had a rent a room down the bottom from the land lady.

My mother Caroline was their only daughter, she was born in May 1950, and it could not have been easy bringing up a baby in one small pokey little room.

Frances street was a rough environment and certainly not the place to bring up a child.

There were often fights in the street from the local drunks on the Friday and Saturday nights and the street certainly lived up to its nick name that it quickly earned,  that of ‘Jug and bottle street’ as guaranteed there would be broken bottles and smashed glasses on the doorsteps.

My mother Caroline attended the local school that was just a two minute walk for her, the school was called, ”Bargoed North”.

My family finally got to move away from Frances street in 1960, to a much larger three story property called ‘Gladstone villa, in Cardiff road, my mother was just ten years old and had to walk further to school.

My mother Caroline left school in 1965 and soon got a job at the local bakery in Baldwin street, Bargoed, she was regular day shift.

It was here that she met my father William Douglas Dexter, he came from the local bordering village of Aberbargoed, where he lived with his parents Doris and Roland Dexter and his three younger brothers.

He didn’t like the name of William, much preferring to be called by his middle name Douglas.

He was very much a quiet man, and reserved, he was also a heavy smoker, he worrked regular night shift at the bakery but would often stay behind a little longer to talk with my mother and make her a cup of tea, but he was quite attracted to my mother and he finally plucked up the courage to ask her out for a date.

They dated for three years when they got engaged and they married in Cardiff on the 1st of April, out of all the dates they could have had, they got married on April fools day !,  The Beatles were number one in the UK charts with, ”Lady Madonna”,  very apt.

They did not get a place of their own, they stayed with my grandparents Rita and Bill at Gladstone villa in Cardiff road.

I was born in the August of 1969 and the youngsters of that time would have been swinging to the latest number one, ”Honky tonk woman”, the rolling stones.

I was soon after I was born that my mother Caroline said that the strange phenomena started.

She said it started off quietly at first with little taps here and there, then it gradually increased.

She told me that the family heard a noise, what sounded like somebody had jumped from the attic and onto the landing floor,  naturally thinking that someone was trying to break in, they went to look what was going on, but they found that nobody was there, but the hatch to the attic was open!

What ever it was eventually occupied itself in the main bedroom, which incidentally was my grandparents room,  and it soon made its presence felt.

There was footsteps in the bedroom that would regularly occur in the evening when the family would be down stairs watching television, one of them would turn the television down to hear the footsteps more clearly.

There was also some minor poltergeist activity,  lights going off and on, electrical cables being pulled.

One day my mother said that she checked my cot only to find that the pillow had been torn right in half, it was good that I was not in the cot at the time.

Another time,  my family came back to Gladstone villa from a day out, they saw that the furniture had been turned upside down, there was no break in, no forced entries and nothing was missing, typical poltergeist activity !

There was another example of poltergeist activity when my mother went to get my father up ready for the night shift, when she saw that his bedroom slippers were thrown out onto the landing, a shear sign that he was not welcome in the room, but more was to come.

When she got to the bedroom, she found that the ironing board had been neatly placed over his torso as he slept and when she finally woke him he was astonished to see his situation.

My father was quite suspicious of my grandfather, blaming him for some of the things that were going on, but as time progressed he realized that my grandfather was not responsible for it.

The local police were called to Gladstone villa, two young male offers,  they checked around but barely went into the attic, just popped his head through the hatch and shone his torch.

They suggested that it was my father Douglas playing pranks on the family and that it’s not a job for them anyway, but a job for the local vicars.

My parents separated sometime in 1972 when he left Gladstone villa to move back with his parents, but it wasn’t because of what was going on at Gladstone villa, it was just a break down in the marriage, they finally divorced on April 25th 1975,  Ironically the Bay City Rollers were number one in the UK charts with ”Bye Bye Baby”,   again,  very apt.

I was barely three years old when he left and I have no memory of him living there with us, but I was happy that he came to see me every Saturday to take me places like the cinema in Bargoed.

As I got older, I experienced the phenomena for myself,  I too witnessed the poltergeist activity, I still remember the electrical cables being pulled by the television,   and my grandfather getting angry with it in case there was any damage caused, it would also annoy my grandfather when he played his records on the Sunday and the spirit would sometimes turn it off !

I also heard the footsteps that would walk around the main bedroom every evening, we would look up to the ceiling and my grandfather Bill would point up and say,  ”He’s by here,  he’s by there now”,  trying to make out just exactly where we could hear it.

Mrs Ivy France was a family friend,  more of a friend to my grandmother Rita, she was well into her 50’s by the 1970’s and she enjoyed a playing bingo at the local old age hall in Cardiff road, she also liked reading the tea leaves in the cup,  but wouldn’t believe my grandmother when she was told that Gladstone villa was haunted.

I can still recall Ivy going into the main bedroom, checking things out, by the window and saying it was vibration from the traffic outside causing it, but her opinion was soon to change when it actually happened when she was there and experienced it for herself.

It was then Ivy France suggested the local press but my grandmother declined for fear of ridicule but when Ivy said she know of a local medium my grandmother accepted.

When the medium John Matthews arrived, he asked the family questions,  then he began to challenge the spirit to perform by knocking on the ceiling, and the spirit immediately knocked back at him !

At some point, the medium went into a trance to try and make contact,  he failed to get a name but he later told the family that there is indeed a presence there,  and it was an earthbound spirit,  it had stayed to finish what it hadn’t accomplished it life !

Before the medium left, he went up stairs to put some white powder on the floor, and sealed the bedroom door until the following day, nobody could get in.

When John Matthews the medium returned the next day, he and the family checked that bedroom and found footprints on the floor !

There were some unexplained signs on the wall, in the bedroom,  like it was trying to make contact, but nothing came of this.

A priest by the name of Graham Jones also came to Gladstone villa, he blessed the property and after a few prayers and duly left, but not before telling the family to watch over and protect me.

It was quiet for a few short months after that,  but in time it did return,   with a vengeance,  and this time,  it decided to show itself !

There was an evening when my mother, my grandfather and I were watching television,  my grandmother Rita was reading a book on the sofa, when my mother just so happened to look to her left towards my grandmother, and she saw the full figure of a monk, standing completely still behind the sofa that my grandmother was on,  the rest of us didn’t see this sight as we were other wise preoccupied.

She later described to us what she saw in detail, a figure in typical monks garb, a brown habit with hood over the head, so she didn’t see his face, she said it was there for only a moment as when she looked again it was gone,  my mother said she was amazed she didn’t react in fear !,  my grandmother could only say that she didn’t tell us when it was actually there, it would’ve most certainly frightened us.

Another sighting took place during the day time, as with the footsteps on occasion.

My mother went over to the sofa to get something, she just looked to her left to the hallway, the door was wide open so she had a good view, and I saw the look of confusion on her face,  she later told me she saw the face of an elderly man with a shock of white curly hair looking into the front room, from the hallway that lead up to the stairs, I didn’t see this as I was behind the door that obscured the hallway.

The activity was so bad that we slept down stairs on sofa’s,  with the lights on all night,  it was only my grandfather Bill who was supposedly brave enough to sleep in that room.

There was a night he claimed he was in that room, lying on the bed , he heard a creaking of the floorboard by the door and he was paralyzed, he couldn’t  even call  out to us to help him,  this must have been a frightening experience for him.

I also had a scary experience of my own in there of my own one night.

I was alone in that very bedroom,  the light was on, I was lying on the bed facing the window that overlooked Cardiff road, to the South of Bargoed town centre, it was very quiet apart from some cars that passed by, when all of a sudden,  I felt something jump at on the bottom of the bed, like an animal pouncing on it, I heard the spring going,  I was too scared to look straight away but when I did, I saw nothing there !

I went down stairs to tell my mother Caroline and my grandparents Bill and Rita what had happened,  we went back up stairs, when we got to the room, we saw three distinctive paw marks on the bed, we didn’t see the fourth one.

Fred Davies was a friend of my grandfather, he was quite a slim man who like to make his own cigarettes that he kept in his mouth as he spoke, he liked wearing a flat cap and he wore glasses.

He worked at Bargoed colliery with my grandfather Bill and he would visit most evenings and he would sit in his usual place, on the chair by the open fire.

There was an incident that happened during the day, Fred came to see us that day and I was playing quite happily by the side board, it was quiet but then all of a sudden there was one loud bang,   like somebody had a big trunk and had dropped it on the floor, it was so loud that Fred ducked his head and I just ran to my mother so she could console me.

Later Fred told us he ducked his head as he thought it was going to come right through the ceiling.

When it was all quiet, and we thought it was safe to go upstairs,   we went up to see what had happened,  my grandfather Bill would always be first to go up, and I would be last, when we got there we could find nothing that could account for that loud bang.

Fred Davies told us of another experience he had.

My grandfather Bill always liked looking out the landing window and this time Fred joined him, and he said he felt something brush pass him,  when he looked, there was nothing there.

We had the ghost for so long that it became part of the furniture, my grandmother Rita even gave it a pet name, she called him Johnny as an amusement, my grandfather Bill would shout that name out the provoke a reaction, but nothing happened.

Another time,  my grandfather Bill came down stairs with a broken bottle,  he said it was thrown across the room towards him,  just missing him,  I didn’t witness this but I’m inclined to believe him !

Both my mother Caroline and my grandfather Bill claimed that they heard a baby crying in that particular room,  but as I didn’t hear anything I took very little notice of them at that time !

We left Gladstone villa in the Summer of 1978,  when two local business men John and Aldo Ricci bought the property, and in time Gladstone villa was converted into a hotel during the early 1980’s.

The night before we moved, all our belongings were packed in black plastic bags and boxes , my mother helped my grandfather Bill with a box,  they struggled to get it out of the bedroom and downstairs,  when my mother asked him what was in the box, he said it was his dog Tovy !  a black Labrador that died before I was born,  he just simply couldn’t bare to bury his remains, just kept him in the box under the bed.

This explains the experience I had alone in the bedroom, when I felt a pounce on the bottom of the bed.

Gladstone villa’s name was changed to Redz Parc hotel, under the management of the McBurney family.

I had my 40th birthday there in August 1969, and it was the staff who told me of their own experiences, the footsteps, the odd sighting, though this was very rare indeed , and the lights going off and on, people who have stayed there have also said they heard things, particularly in room five.

I did some research into the history of my childhood home and Cardiff road, and I was surprised by what I discovered from local newspaper archives and maps at Bargoed library.

I found out that Gladstone villa dates back to the 1900’s, and it was named after the former liberal prime minister William Gladstone.

In 1924,  the newly married Kimmiett family lived there, their baby son Elvin Rowland Kimmiett died there at just four months, according to South Wales echo archives of that year,  this explains the baby my mother and grandfather said they heard.

Directly opposite Gladstone villa is a building called ”The RAFA club”,  one of the oldest buildings in Bargoed,  dating back to the 17th century, some of the original beams are still there.

Its been said that a priest hide is on the premises, and tunnels are there that lead up to two local villages, where there is well known welsh manor and a Roman fort.

It is also said that there are the remains of an old monastery in Baldwin street , where my parents met and worked,  this explains the monk my mother saw.

What I have said here is the truth, I wouldn’t gain anything by lying, I would only loose my credibility and my integrity and the trust of my personal friends, I wouldn’t share this if I couldn’t possibly back this up.

I challenge any skeptic to stay there for a while,  they will indeed experience some thing that will make them question their belief system, of that I have no shadow of doubt.

 

 

 

Grandma is not happy

Let me start this story off by saying I grew up in the military. My dad was in the air force and my family moved around a lot. I have lived in many haunted homes before, and have experience a lot of paranormal activiti in my life. This story however is about the time my grandma was not happy with my dad being deployed.

Back in the Spring of 2008 my dad got orders for Iraq, and by the summer he had deployed. The night my dad left was a hard one for me. I wanted to stay up all night because I didn’t want to dream about my dad dying, but I had school in the morning so around 10 I forced myself to go to bed. This is where it gets weird.

That night my room was very cold mind you this was still summer in Missouri, and the nights do not get very cold. At first I thought the AC was just on full blast, but when I checked the thermostat it read 75. I brushed the cold off as it just being all in my head and put more blankets on my bed. Even with the extra blankets my room still fealt like a freezer. Around midnight things got out of hand.

It all started with me getting this feeling that I was being watched. I would wake up to see a black shadow standing at the foot of my bed looking at me. I also fealt my body being lifted off the bed and fall back down a couple of times. I heard a voice in my ear whispering something i could not make out. Again I brushed it all off as being in my head, but I turned my light back on anyways. Even with the light the activity did not stop.

Around 1 I turned the light back off as it was preventing me from sleeping even more then the feeling of being watched or the voice. I eventually fell asleep at 1:30, but was not asleep for long.

At 2 in the morning the smoke detectors went off. I jumped out of my bed and was about to jump out the window when they stopped ringing. Thinking I had dreamed the whole thing I went back to bed. Not 10 minutes later the alarms went back off. This time I ran upstairs to see what was up.

I found my mom in the upstairs hallway staring up at one of the detectors. I asked her where the fire was and she had no clue. We were just staring at the detector when the one in my room went off, setting the other ones off in the process.

I had, had it by this point and told my mom I was sleeping on the couch. Even on the couch the thing would not leave me alone. It came upstairs around 3, and for the rest of the night kept poking me with long bony fingers.

I endured three months of this kind of torment such as levitation, voice, objects being moved, cold spots, and even physical attacks before my mom told me who was behind all this.

When desert storm was happing my dad would get phone calls from his mom everyday telling him he was not going to war, and if he did she would write her congress man to bring him back home. My gradma had died back in 2004, and since she couldn’t writ her congress man to complain about her son going to war she bugged me instead. My mom said it was because I was more open minded then my sister, and my grandma never liked my mom.

My gradma would continue to haunt me until the day my dad retired from the air force, I can still feel her presence every once in awhile, but my cat keeps her at bay now.

Haunted Okinawa

I am a U.S. Marine and this is my story on the experiences iv had during my deployment in Okinawa, Japan from September 2016 to March 2017.

Now here’s a small history of the island itself : during the 2nd world war there was a VERY bloody battle between the U.S. And Japan on the island that lasted well over 80 days. During the battle there was an estimated 82,000 deaths on American and Japanese armed forces combined.  And an estimate 150,000-300,000 Okinawan civilians were either killed, committed suicided or went missing due to hiding in the caves and underground passageways that run for miles hiding from the horrors of war.

Now I was staying at camp Schwab  during the deployment. it’s located further up north of the island away from the rest of the bases down south where most of the battle sites are at.

So there’s two parts of this story at different locations. One was at camp Schwab and the other was at camp Hansen which is about a 20 minute drive south of Schwab. The first story happened to a friend of mine who was on the deployment with me but was sent to PMO to be a gaurd or whatever those guys do.

So my buddy, let’s name him Alex, was doing his usual roving during his post around the base. It was around 3am. When he suddenly caught site of a person on top of a hill just wondering aimlessly. He told me that this guy, who he thought was just another drunk marine, was just pacing back and forth looking at the ground on the ridge line of the hill. He couldn’t see futures because of how dark it was but he can obviously see a siluet or outline of a person. He didn’t want to be an asshole and blind this guy so before he reached out for his flashlight togeth a better look he called out to him saying “Hey,  devil dog. Everything alright?” Just then the siluet stopped walking and just stood there for a good 5 seconds and then just slowly started walking away from Alex. He then tried calling out to him again this time following him and letting the rest of the guards know on his radio about the situation. But the closer Alex got the further the siluet went. Pretty soon Alex was literally chasing this guy at a full sprint but he or it just kept going faster and faster until the figure went around a ammunition building. Now Alex knew that he had him trapped because behind that building is nothing but a tall fence with barbed wire so pretty much a dead end. To make a better discription: the building was siting parallel to the corner of the fence line of that makes sense. At this time two more guards came in a vehicle  to help Alex weed the guy out. One gaurd stayed by the car while Alex and the second went separate ways around the building to find the runner. But as they went around and went between the fence and building they only found each other on the other side. At first they figured he went inside the building through a window or unlocked door but as they opened the building once they got the keys the only this they discovered was that every door and window was locked. What freaked them out the most was that there were no foot prints anywhere on the muddy ground around the building. Only their own. It was like he vanished.

I later found out from previous marines I talked to online that were stationed here that there is a ghost on this base they called “the shadowman”. Apparently if you are to catch site if this dark figure and it notices you, it will then turn away to avoid you and there have been more incidents of this happening through the years mostly by the guards and the staff NCOs who are roving around the base.

This next incident happened to not only me but two more buddies of mine during a field operation at a combat town in or near camp Hansen.

This was during the 2nd and 3rd night at different locations of the area that was in the middle of the jungle inside the camp.

The first night my platoon was sleeping about 150 yards in the jungle from the road. There was a LPOP the was set up on a small elevation point on the side of the road. Now an LPOP for those who don’t know is an observation point where a marine or soldier is on watch. I had watch at midnight so as I made my way there I made sure I had my NVGs (night vision Goggles) with me because although it was a full moon there were some clouds that made it a little difficult to see at night. So as I was there I couldn’t help this feeling of being watched. And this feeling felt as if it was coming from the other side of the road. Further on the night around 1:30am I heard what sounded like a footsteps or a type of dragging noise along the grass below me. To be honest it sounded like it was coming from everywhere and I started getting freaked out. I then heard this clicking noise. I first I brushed it off as maybe a bird but as I listened closer it sounded more distinct, like the clicking a person makes with their Tongue. And this was coming from the tree line across the road from me. Freaked out I grabbed the NVGs and started scanning the tree line. Nothing. I couldn’t find anything not a person or a critter. I finally got relieved and power walked my ass straight to my sleeping bag. Let’s just say I didn’t get much sleep that night.

My buddy, Philip was the one who took my post at 2am and his experience was much more terifying.

While he was up there he heard the same footsteps as I did only this time they were closer than where I pointed them out. Being freaked out as well he stood up scanning the area. About 30 minutes later he heard what sounded like sobbing and mumbled words.  Like a woman faintly sobbing and saying something in a language he didn’t understand. This sobbing was coming from below him. He nervously poked his head out said, “ma’am? Are you there? You ok?” All of a sudden in a split second the woman’s voice suddenly became louder. By that I mean literally right  by his left ear, she was speaking to him what he said was Japanese. This scared him so fucking bad he was frozen in his tracks almost like a trans.  he didn’t even turn his head to look at her that’s how scared he was. Once he snapped out of this trans he sprinted towards the platoon not even looking back once. This is when I heard him running pass me which scared the shit out of me being freaked out as it is. I then overheard him saying to the sergeants about how there’s no way he’s going back there. I mean this guy was TERRIFIED. I could hear it in his shaking voice. After that incident there were a lot of marines that where on a high sense of alert the rest of the operation.

The next night we spent the night in the combat town inside the buildings since it was pouring a little bit here and there. During the night we had two posts with 240 machine guns one each one. The posts were on top of the highest buildings of the small empty town. Once again were surrounded by jungle and tree lines that boardered the town. Once I finished my post I went to my sleeping system to get some shut eye when I was awoken 20 minutes later by the marine who relived me. “There’s someone out there, man. I saw them with my NVGs walk out of the jungle to cross the road and then a shorter  person followed” he whispered to me. I told him it’s probably range control guys and to go back on post. 30 minutes later he woke me and a sergeant up saying ” I see them again, dude this time who ever it is  keeps poking their head in and out of the tree line”. After that the sergeant and I grabbed two more marines a total of 4 of us to gear up and investigate. As we went along the outside of the combat town between the tree line of the jungle and the buildings  I was told to go to the second post to let the marine who’s on watch know that my fire team will be walking by to investigate. As I walked  along the tree line I had this feeling of dread, and a feeling of being watched again. I shook it off until I then heard in the distance of the jungle  what sounded like a child talking and playing. Now it was around 2 in the morning so I figure what the fuck is a kid doing out in the middle of nowhere. I brushed it off as my mind playing tricks on me and went up the stairs of the building  to let the marine on watch know about the situation. The marine on watch happened to be my friend, Jerry and as I was explaining to him what was going on there was a distinct child’s laughter coming from the tree line behind us. This laughter was so loud that the sergeant sleeping a few feet from us scrambled to his feet and was like “what fuck was that? Did you guys just hear that??” He was as startled as we were. Jerry then said to me “it’s probably your guys playing with us”. I grabbed my NVGs and scanned the town in front of us. To my horror there was my fire team of marines still scanning the tree line in the road. All 3 of them. If they were there in my sight then who the fuck was laughing? We then got our flashlights and scanned the tree line. Nothing. Nothing but the thick jungle. Not even the sound of insects or animals were heard…. Once my fire team assembled they too found nothing during the small patrol, no footprints or indications of someone or something walking around the area where the huminoid figures where spotted.

Iv come to realize how haunted Okinawa really is. As beautiful as it is here it is VERY eire. there are  Two things iv learned from these experiences. One is to respect the dead and their land. 2 is to never walk alone in Okinawa at night. So of you ever come down to Okinawa, keep a good eye out because chances are you might run into a ghost.