Despite the fact that we tend to scoff at stories of curses and misfortunes, the enormous capabilities of our minds have not yet been fully explored, which allow us to set in motion powerful enough energy flows to manipulate the ghost mechanism of a fully formed phantom.
This story tells of the distant days of the First World War, which gave rise to many more ghosts than the Second World War. It was published in 1930 when Mr. Edwin T. Woodhall (formerly of Scotland Yard and the Secret Intelligence Service) wrote his memoir.
A ghostly phantom, dubbed the "Ghost of the Hun," was seen far behind the British lines - northeast of Bethune, in the area between Laventi and Hoplins. 1916 was the year of this phantom, and the place of events - a peasant house - was wiped off the face of the earth when, two years later, the Germans tried to win for the last time.
German soldiers of the First World War in characteristic horned helmets
Throughout 1916, in numerous isolated areas of the terrain, field depots were equipped for explosives that could be useful in case of emergency. Such storage facilities were usually located in abandoned village houses, far enough from enemy artillery, and were guarded by one or two sentries, who were replaced after a week. For the sentries, this service was almost a holiday, despite the fact that the abandoned ruins were very often depressing.
One such warehouse was located between the settlements of Laventi and Hoplins, and the explosives themselves were hidden in the basement of a collapsed peasant house near an abandoned village. Sentinels received provisions for the week, sufficient firewood, cooking utensils, books and magazines, and sometimes a dartboard.
The soldiers usually said that during the day the warehouse was not so bad, but at night they were often overcome with fear. From somewhere in the distance came the rumble of a cannon, the lights of signal flares were visible, from time to time an airplane hummed. And although they were in the very center of the war - in a ruined peasant house near Laventi - the war seemed strangely distant.
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Later, various rumors spread about the lonely vault. According to reports, strange noises were heard there during the full moon, and the sentries were not the only residents of the peasant house, where the shuffling of someone's feet was often heard.
The inexplicable sounds of footsteps were heard on the paved road that passed the warehouse; and one serviceman reported that during the full moon he saw a figure of a man about 20-25 meters away from him. The sentry called out to him and, receiving no answer, fired his rifle. However, to his surprise, the unknown disappeared.
The suspicion arose that an enemy agent was working, so the incident was reported to the intelligence service and Officer Edwin T. Woodhall, along with a French policeman, went to the warehouse at the earliest opportunity to reinforce him. The gendarme was brought in in case it became necessary to arrest any civilians.
The first evening passed without much incident. The Frenchman had a good camp stove, plenty of candles and provisions, and two decks of cards; Having a little amusement, the visitors decided to take turns to stand at the clock.
But on the second night of the guard service, strange phenomena began to occur. Mr. Woodhall guarded the warehouse during the first two-hour shift, while the gendarme and soldiers rested during this time. They quickly settled down for the night and fell fast asleep, but after about an hour they felt Woodhall stirring them up so that they would listen to something.
The men listened and silently reached for their weapons. Above the ceiling of the cellar, there was the distinct sound of boots with horseshoe-shaped metal heels: apparently someone was walking along the road just a few meters from the warehouse.
- Flip!.. Flip!.. Flip!..
The tread was so heavy, and the steps so sharp and sharp, that the vibration caused plaster and clay to fall from the ceiling.
The men, led by Woodhall, climbed the stairs, illuminated by the bright light of the full moon. Woodhall noticed that a silhouette was moving rapidly along the wall, gradually disappearing into its gloomy shadow.
For an hour or more, they combed the entire area, but they found nothing - not even a lost animal, disturbed by such an eerie silence that enveloped the ruins bathed in moonlight.
When day dawned, Woodhall, the gendarme and the soldier examined everything once more - this time more thoroughly - but again they found no signs of illegal entry into the facility or into the neighboring village.
The next night, sentries were again posted, but the resting shift did not sleep. Everyone was in anticipation and tension. At 02:25, a little later than the previous night, the characteristic sound was again heard:
- Flip!.. Flip!.. Flip!..
The men silently climbed the stairs and, without leaving the shadows, began to gaze intently towards the wall, lit by the moon.
A few meters from where they stood, near the wall, with weapons at the ready, a German soldier was crawling on his knees and sorting through the scattered bricks.
The sentries looked at him as if bewitched. They did not have the slightest doubt that before them was the same earthly person as themselves. His helmet with a horn gleamed in the moonlight, but there was something strange in his clothes: the German's uniform was completely stained with clay, as if he had just come out of the trench in which he was digging.
For more than a minute the sentries watched the German fingering the bricks, and then they called out to him.
In response, he raised himself a little and turned to them - it was at this moment that all three observers realized that in front of them was not living flesh, but … a skeleton. From under the horned helmet, the empty eye sockets of the skull looked at them, and the bricks he was holding fell from the hands-bones.
Three rifle shots rang out at the same time, and the apparition immediately disappeared. The sentries continued to watch until dawn, but the ghostly Hun no longer appeared.
It must be said that later British intelligence investigated this case very carefully, but after the liquidation of the warehouse - the very next day after the corresponding report was received.
The British, acting together with the French authorities, have restored the entire history of this village, as it was preserved in the people's memory at the time of the declaration of war in August 1914. Despite the fact that many local residents died, they managed to find and interview several surviving peasants and, based on their reports, compose the following story.
At the end of the summer of 1914, a large German army under the command of General Von Kluck1 was confidently advancing towards Paris and towards the ports on the English Channel. The German infantry entered the village and began to plunder everything that came in their way, taking the essentials; nevertheless, punitive measures were not applied to the local population until they themselves began to resist.
This large peasant house was occupied by a German non-commissioned officer and his detachment of 20 people. The farmer himself - the owner of the house - disappeared somewhere, leaving his wife with a small child, who, like her neighbors, decided not to leave the village.
The basement, which later served as British sentries, was used by the farmer as a wine cellar. The German soldiers immediately found a worthy use of the guilt: they organized night feasts, at which the non-commissioned officer tried to show the farmer's young wife unambiguous signs of attention.
The situation became too serious, and the woman, in despair, turned to an elderly priest for advice and protection, who remained behind the Germans along with his parishioners. The Holy Father promised to stay with her in her house until the departure of the Germans, which was expected the next day.
Soon, Allied artillery began shelling the village, forcing the Germans to hastily retreat. Everything was confused: the screams of the soldiers, the neighing of horses and the rumble of exploding shells turned the village into hell. The non-commissioned officer, according to witnesses, was very angry with the owner of the farm for bringing her to the priest's house, and declared her a spy. In a drunken stupor, he shot the child, then the mother, and then the holy father.
The woman and child died immediately, and the priest lived for a few more minutes. Pointing to the German, he said:
- Evil man, your soul will live here! You will come back here when your hour strikes, and you will look for her in this place until God decides to forgive and release your soul!
And the holy father died.
Staggering, the drunken non-commissioned officer set off to catch up with his company, but he was hit by a fragment of an exploding shell, and the German died right on the paved road.
After the Germans were driven out, several peasants buried a woman, a child and a priest in one grave, and an officer in another. Both graves were located not far from the wall - in the very place where the ghost was seen.
Obviously, the old priest's curse came true: the skeleton that the British sentries saw was a non-commissioned officer who returned at his appointed hour.
Brad Steiger, from Evil Monsters and Mystical Creatures