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From: firstname.lastname@example.org (Bob Hearn)
Subject: Military Ghosts
Date: Tue, 14 Jun 1994 18:15:00 GMT
Well, first off, let me say that this story does not represent the opinion of the United States Military in anyway, nor does it reflect on any official military history. It is personal experience, along with some recollections from some folks that served in the same maintenance shop I was in. That disclaimer having been made, let’s go…
I’m a Staff Sergeant in the Air Force, serving at Nellis AFB, Las Vegas, Nevada. I’ve been here nearly 10 years, having arrived on station in on 1 Nov 84. I was initially assigned to the Jet Engine Intermediate Mainten- ance Facility, Bld 858. I’m a jet engine mechanic.
Building 858 is a mutt of a building, initially being built in the mid 1960s as a single hangar. Later, they added a larger hangar behind the original and yet another hangar later. I don’t know the full history of the building, of things that may have happened in it, or of the site that it is built upon. I do know from personal experience that there were some strange things happening in it.
My first experience with “the ghost of 858” was back in 1987. I was working swingshift, acting as the NCOIC of the newly formed -220 maintenance section. The other squadron we shared the building with had gone home, as had the other maintenance sections. I was alone in the building, waiting for the last F-15 and F-16 sorties to come down for the night. I can’t recall the exact times, but it was between 0000 and 0100. I was sitting at a desk in the office, in front of an open doorway that faced out into our maintenance bay. The bay is approximately 40 feet wide, 100 feet deep, and about 2.5 stories tall at the top of the peaked roof. From my desk, I could look out the door and see almost wall to wall along the width of the building, and as the office was against the end wall of the bay, I could see the entire length of the bay.
I was reading a book, and suddenly I could hear footsteps. I was expecting the CRS Expediter to come in, so I immediately thought it was him entering the bay, but I didn’t hear the fire doors open. I looked up, and could see no one in the bay. Leaving my office, I stepped out in the bay, called out, and got no response. Shrugging off the incident, I returned to my desk and my book. Then, through the peripheral vision above the book (hard to explain what I mean… you’re reading and see stuff above the top of the book) I saw someone walking across the width of the bay. I looked up, and saw no one. Now I start to get the chills. Reading again, I hear the footsteps again, and also see the person walking the bay once more. Looking up, though, there is no one there. I get up, walk a security check around the bay, find no doors unsecure, and no one is there. I get that spooky feel- ing though that I am being watched.
Shortly after this, CRS Expediter comes in, the fire doors banging (as usual) when he enters the building. These doors are the only entrance to the bay after hours. I convince him to walk a security check with me through the facility. We find no doors open, no one else in the facility.
I mention this to a friend of mine the next day, and he replies that it isn’t unusual to hear footsteps in the bay. He had the same experience, numerous times, as well as seeing the figure in the bay. I’ll continue in the next message.
From: email@example.com (Bob Hearn)
Subject: More Military Ghosts
Date: Tue, 14 Jun 1994 18:47:00 GMT
Next to the 220 bay was the J-85 bay. This bay ran the same length and width as the 220 bay, with a ceiling to floor wall dividing them. At the south end of the J-85 bay was a roll up fire door that led into a warren of offices. The hallway that fed these offices was wood paneled, about 30 feet long, and the walls were about 7 feet high, leaving the tops of the offices open to the roof of the building, approximately 7 or 8 feet over head. The J-85 bay and the 220 bay were joined by a double fire door, at the middle of their length. On security check one evening, prior to shut- ting down for the night, I stepped through the double door to make sure the 85 bay was secure.
I moved towards the hallway at the south end of the bay. All bay lighting was off, except for the emergency overheads (always on in case of power failures, or for entering the building) As I prepared to move down the hallway, I could see that “something” appeared to be on the southern wall where the hall “L”d to the east to join the break room. It appeared to be just a gray mass of dim light, floating approximately 5 feet off the ground, at the far end of the hall. Looking at it, it appeared to be slowly roiling upon itself. It was dim, and to the best of my memory, was casting no light upon the ground. The hallway and office warren had no lights on in it, no emergency lighting was active in that section.
I stepped about 2 paces into the hall to investigate when all the hair on the back of my neck stood up, I got goosebumps, and something inside of me said that going down there could be a major mistake. Rather than stay and investigate or have it approach and investigate me, I turned and made a hasty retreat (read: ran like hell) back to the full lighting of the 220 bay.
I brought up this experience later on with a coworker from the other squad- ron, and he told me of an experience he had in the breakroom that the “L” in the hallway led too. He had stepped in there a month prior to my experience, to get a soda. The double fire doors between the breakroom and the hallway were closed and latched. The lighting in the breakroom was off, the only illumination being from the soda machine and the candy machine. As he stepped into the room to go to the machines, he noticed a light in the cracks of the fire doors. Unlike mine, his was a bright light, as bright as a jetlight being held to the cracks (note, a jetlight is a worklight, made from an automobile headlight, and powered by wall current running through a transformer, this gives you an idea of how bright this light was). The light was at the crack at the middle of the doors, halfway off the floor. It moved up to the crack at the top, moved slowly right and left, then back down. It moved to the crack at the floor and again moved left and right before returning to the middle crack, halfway off the floor. Brad said that the movement took approximately a minute and a half. He reached for the door, expecting to expose a co-worker in a prank, but as he touched the door, the light dimmed, and stopped moving. Jet lights don’t dim, they go out completely, and like me, he got an immediate reaction from the hair on the back of his neck, and the goose bumps. He turned, as I did, and beat a hasty retreat back to his maintenance crew.
Several of us have had various experiences in the building, and were sit- ting around one night relating them to one another. People have seen lights floating in the dark and tried to explain them away as brake lights from a passing car, despite the fact that the only window in the bay was 1 foot by 1 foot, and 15 feet below where the lights were seen. People have seen figures walking the bays, footsteps when they were all alone. Doors slam in the maintenance bays at odd hours, equipment gets moved around, 2 ton cable hoists are seen swinging, when there is no one to be moving them.
Brad and I were teased by our supervisor regarding this. We were working in the 85 bay one evening, and she came down the hallway going “Whoooo… whooo….. hey guys, I’m talking to the ghosts!” We told her not to joke around… no telling who might be listening. We then closed our tool box, and left through the doors in the common wall.
As we were turning in our equipment, she came running up another hallway that joined two of the hangars. She was yelling at us, demanding to know how we did what we did, indignant that we tried to scare her. Seems that after we left, she went to shut off the overhead lights in the bay. As she hit the switches on the east side of the bay, she looked up at a light that hadn’t gone out, but was quite dim. She then realized that it wasn’t one of the overhead lights, but “something”, assuming it was a prank Brad and I were pulling. As she took a few steps towards this light, which was approximately 20 feet off the ground, it suddenly dropped, and began moving towards her. She then panicked (as I had done) and ran down the southern hallway, through the breakroom, down another maintenance bay, through the adjoining hallway and up to where Brad and I were inventorying our tools. She was attempting to hide her fear with indignation, but failed miserably. When she asked us to go investigate what it was, we refused. She then (jokingly) ordered us to do it. Again, we refused, explaining that if she was going to order us to do something, she’d have to be willing to do it herself, at which point she refused. When we later explained what happened to the Master Sergeant in charge of the shift, he also refused to go to the 85 bay to take a look, saying he’d rather do it in daylight. It seems (from talking one on one with him later) that he’d had several experiences in the bays as well, but vehemently refused to talk about them.
I have a few more stories to post, not all about Bld 858. I look forward to replies. I’m glad I found y’all.