Grandpa’s War – Part 29 – Ghost Story

I was born and raised in the San Luis Valley, Colorado. Now that doesn’t sound like a big deal. But if you’re into UFOs or Ghosts, welcome to a place that sports both.

MY DISCLAIMER: I am fascinated by the stories and lore of the area but let me say right now. I DO NOT BELIEVE IN FLYING SAUCERS. I DO NOT BELIEVE IN GHOSTS. I’ve spent much of my life under those star filled skies and old places. Only once did I see something I couldn’t explain right away.

I was a sophomore in college and working as an Asst. Astronomer at the college observatory. I had an observing program to run almost every night. But once I was done, I could do most anything I wanted. Since we had a nice large telescope, I probed distant parts of the universe nightly.

I’d ran into one of my high school teachers, and I’d invited him over for a night of stargazing. He showed up with his girlfriend. She’d graduated with me and taken a course from him way back when (we won’t pursue that one).

Anyway, it was past midnight, and I lined up the telescope on another object when she shouted, “Look at that. Look at that!”

Flying overhead in a “V” formation were four objects. I only had a second or two to view them, but to me, they looked postage stamp in shape. They were a beautiful white color, fast, and absolutely silent.

For years, I had no idea what it was.

Almost twenty years after the fact, I saw the same thing. But now, I knew what I was looking at. I saw the same thing overhead in Saudi Arabia shortly after the air war had kicked off. I was looking at the exhaust pattern of a flight of F-117 stealth fighter.

It was identical to what I’d seen before.

That one was easy to sort out once I had better information.

This next one, well, I’m still looking for a logical explanation. I’ve told this story before and will probably do so again in the future. But no telling of my Gulf War story would be complete without telling it one more time.

The Cease Fire was in effect. We were camped right outside an abandoned Iraqi airbase. The place had a huge ammo dump that we’d blow up within a few days, and we guarded it closely.

One night, my buddy Greg and I decided we’d keep watch. All the other MPs were dog tired and since there’d be other teams out, we’d give someone a break. So we took the HUMVEE out. We checked our weapons, communications, NVGs, and then sat watching, chatting and quietly passing the night.

We were sitting in a good position to see the whole dump. We were parked about a dozen meters back from a road that bordered the dump. We had excellent fields of visibility and fire in all directions if needed. There was no moon, though we had a nice star filled sky.

Couldn’t have asked for a more peaceful night.

Along about 1:30 in the morning, we heard someone walking along the roadway. Thinking it was some local or a soldier hunting for souvenirs we turned on our NVGs and started looking around. The NVGs made the pitch-dark Iraqi night as bright as day. I looked in the direction of the sound, but couldn’t see anybody. The footsteps receded. My first thought was, “Crap, somebody slipped past us,” but then I heard them stop, turn, and start back.

I slipped behind the 60 and pointed it in that direction. Greg already had his weapon ready, He jumped down from the HUMVEE and whispered, “Cover me!” He quickly ran to a position where he could surprise whoever it was walking along the road.

The steps got closer and walked past where Greg crouched. They kept going for about a 100 meters or so. I heard them stop, turn, and come back, once again passing our position.

Problem was, there was no one there making the footsteps. They went down again about hundred meters, turned, and came back, and repeated exactly what they’d done before,

Greg ran back and looked up in bewilderment. “There’s no one there. It went right by me and there was no one there.”

He relieved me from the 60, and I went out. I looked up and down the road. If anyone had been walking along it, I’d have clearly seen them.

The footsteps were walking away.  They got about a hundred meters down, and again, they stopped, turned and walked towards me. They got closer and walked right past me. I’d made no effort to hide myself. I was standing straight with my 16 pointed at the sound of the steps. They got closer, were right in front of me, and then walked away.

Had someone actually been there, I wouldn’t have needed the rifle. I could have punched their lights out. But there was nothing there to shoot or punch. Whatever it was totally ignored me and just kept on walking.

All things considered, being ignored in a situation like that isn’t a bad thing, I thought. So there I was, standing in an empty road with a loaded weapon. that I was aiming at nothing made me feel a little silly. I lowered the weapon and slung it over my shoulder and looked towards the sound of footsteps. They turned, and started coming back.

Maybe I should ask “How you doing”:” when it walks past, I thought. I decided that was almost as stupid as pointing a gun at a ghost and nixed the question.

I walked back to the Hummer and got on top with Greg.

“What do you think?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Whatever it is, it isn’t interested in us.”

By this time we were both totally mystified. We didn’t say anything for several minutes as the pattern continued to repeat itself over and over.

We must have had the same idea at about the same time.

“You know what it sounds like?” I asked.

“Someone walking guard duty,” Greg said.

That’s exactly what it sounded like. This went on for an hour.

Then footsteps stopped, and the rest of the night was spent peacefully.

When the sun came up, we examined the area and the only footprints we found were ours.

When we were relieved and got back to the tents, Cpl. Mac (who’d run the team the night before our outing) came up and asked if we’d heard anything odd.

I answered, “You mean like someone walking back and forth like they were walking a guard post.”

“Only no one was there?”

“Exactly,” he said.

“Of course not,” Greg and I answered at the same time.

I know someplace, somewhere, there’s a logical answer to this riddle.

I just haven’t found it yet!

Authors Note: Years later I’d write it up as part of a chapter called “The Last Supper” in the novel Event Horizon