Thread: Haunted Barracks

Nobody knew.

Rumour has it that theres a ghost at the slop jockey school in he shot.
Apparently a crow was put in his locker and then chucked into the canal, only thing is it landed door down and he drowned. Reports of wet foot prints being found heading from the canel to the block are rife.

Complete bollcoks of course

The room's just used for storing a few odds and ends, Gunny.
If my memory serves, I was getting some replacement bags for the hoover.
Happy now?

Of course he's not happy,......

....he'll need to know the make and model number of the hoover, the exact time of day this happened...... and if it was you who was gonna clean up once you'd got the replacement bags from said room!

Go on Gunny,....... tell him!!!

When I was a lad, at Mons Bks in the Shot part of our duties were to check the old deserted Connaught Hospital near north Camp, like the CMH but a bit smaller. The horror was to check the long corridor- always the job for the new Tom!

Same as the CMH, no end of sighting of 'things' in there after dark. (Might have been a QA!)

I explored (with friends) the old underground Ammunition Factory built just pior to WW2, miles and miles of underground gallery's and tunnels, abandoned by the RASC in the 60's and quietly mouldering away under the countryside above Bath. Now I dint see floating apparitions or hear ghostly footsteps, but it is enough to scare the fcuk out of you nonetheless.

I was OSM in the CMH in the early 90`s, checking the RAO on the top corridoor near the area where the famous "Grey Lady" is meant to be seen. All of the wards on the top coridoor were closed, so there was nobody else up there. I was near the Chief Clerks office looking at some paperwork when I heard somthing rustling at the other end of the corridoor. Thinking it was some paperwork moving in the wind caused by an open window I went down the other end to close it. When I got there there was nothing that could have made the noise I just heard. As this fact was registering, I heard the sound again from where I had just come from! Needless to say I got out of there PDQ.............

Originally Posted by Macks

The room's just used for storing a few odds and ends, Gunny.
If my memory serves, I was getting some replacement bags for the hoover.
Happy now?

Yeap mate. Wasn't a dig. I just think all this ghost, spirits and goulies is a load of bolllocks. I've had a few close friends and family die over the last five years, and every time I've stood and held their hands in the coffin and waiting for 'something', anything to show there's an afterlife. My best buddy who I grew up with died four years ago, and if anyone was gonna appear or do something to show they were ‘there’, it would have been him. Felt nothing in the Chapel of Rest and felt nothing at his funeral. I even, er (I know it sounds odd, but I suppose it's all part of the grieving process) asked him in his coffin to come and visit me at home, or try and communicate with me. Nothing. I’ve held the hand of the dead, but the dead said nothing back. So I think it's all total buttocks. No ghosties, no goolies, nothing in the dark that wasn't there in the light.

To many sceptics who can't prove it's all crap if you ask me.... which, I know, you didn't...

After a close relation died in '96 I found it strange to be anywhere near her husband who would finish sentences for her the way he did when she was alive. He didn't seem to be able to let go and it was hard when the pain was still real to be sucked back into the reality he lived in where she was still very much part of his day to day living. He died in '00, still missing her.
His funeral was held in a large mission hall in Scotland, in which a picture of him in his naval days in Port Glasgow docks hung.
After the service and burial we all went back there, the curator of the hall approached a few of his immediate family members and took them to one side.
In all the years he'd worked there he'd looked at the picture every day, but hadn't noticed until the morning of the funeral that in the background off in the distance stood his wife, arms folded, barely visible, watching, just waiting.
Now that was spooky.......

And I'm not a believer, I can justify that the curator, although there every day, had perhaps until that day not really looked at the picture closely and spotted the woman in the distance.

But I'm not going to argue. She was there.

BOO!!!!!!!!!

OK this is not related to a barracks or the Army but I swear I saw something hovering over my sister when I was aged about 5, maybe less. It was the cliched white robed glowing apparition, floating in mid air above her - being young we shared a bedroom. I woke up, looked at it: it looked at me and floated *through* the window. Being a Nipper I thought I had seen an angel, which is what I told my mum the next day.

No Duff.

Obviously Hohne has its fair share (it is next to Bergen-Belsen Camp). I had a flat that was used as a hospital for the vicims after we liberated the camp and my celler was used as a morgue (Went down twice - to take over and to hand back!). I had no ghosts or anything strange at all in my block but next one down was hauted.

Electrical stuff would go all funny, break down or be wierd. Once my mate came home to an empty house and the water in the kettle was boiling. Many thimes he'd come home and a plate they kept on the wall would have turned upside down. The kids would be in the loft and talk of a young man in a uniform with a funny bird on the chest!

The worst thing was once they went to bed and there was a hot water bottle warming the sack. Both assumed the other had put it in there. The next night my mate asked Mrs Mate if she wanted the HWB again - when she replied that he'd put it in and to stop pi5sing about they nearly shat themselves!

As a young Craftsman in Celle I would often have to go into the 'B Shop' at night.

The 'B Shop was originally built as the stables for the German 77th Regiment around the turn of the 18th /19th Century.

Despite its long history and proximity to Belson nothing spooky ever happened to me or any one else I knew.

Until one night - at about 11pm it was very, very quiet and all of a sudden I heard a BANG and a loud hissing noise from the other end of the shop.

As I walked up the deserted shop to find out what the commotion was , the air compressor started up of its own accord !!!!!.

I turned the compressor off and in the morning fixed the airline. But one was ever able to explain how that air line had popped and why the compressor had started up.

Now that is Spooooooooooooooooky .

Apparently (I have 2 Spiritualist Mediums in the family, although I remain sceptical) children are the most 'in tune' with being able to see ghosts or spirits and a lot of their so called 'imaginary friends' may not be all that imaginary, just that grown ups minds are a little more closed to this sort of thing.

i do believe in ghost sort of , these things cannot be quantified by conventional science methinks

Round the back of Gamecock Barracks in Bramcote Nuneaton there was an old concrete building, near the pads quarters.

When the camp was an RAF station in WW2, the building was used as a makeshift morgue for anyone who copped it. Stories were rife, that people, usually on prowler had heard lots of weird sounds coming from the building, but nobody had ever bothered to check it out, due to being sh*t scared.

One night, after a big night on the beer, someone in our group suggested breaking in and having a look round. Beered up on brave pills, three of us were up for it. The door was only secured by a padlock which was easily opened by Taff ***** size 10 master key. As soon as we got in the door, I nearly shat myself on the spot. A geezer in full WW2 pilots uniform was stood in the corner, just pointing at us. He had a horrible look on his face. I'll never forget it for as long as I leave.

It was horrific. I could feel my heart about to jump out of my mouth, when Taff shouted,

"It's Stinky Smythe, the storeman from 256."

And it was too. Seemed like he'd had a blanket thieving scam going for a couple of years. He'd kept everyone away from his stash with tales of the ghosts of dead aviators.

And he'd have got away with it too, if it wasn't for us meddling, pissed up arrseholes.