THE LONG DEAD SOLDIER
* full physical materialisations
* Exaggeration & embellishment
* pardon long overdue
A row of cottages in Summit Rd, in East London, had been the focus for many years of psychic activity. When a call comes in to any psychic centre on a haunting, stories are often embellished or exaggerated because people suspect you will not believe what they say, but this haunting did not ring true, at times especially when you become well known you get the hoaxers and flannellers and sceptics just out to laugh at you. A property landlord was first to come and paint a rather frightening picture of one of his little cottages which could not keep its tenants, Cross correlation is vital and we always would need to speak to some of the other people who had witnessed this frightening apparition. As is often in these cases all stories did not match at all well, so it was not easy to reach a proper diagnoses on exactly what they had. One extremely overweight lady was hysterical and went red in the face as she screamed about the devil to us, and another man, a previous tenant in his forties who chain smoked, said it had caused arguments in the house and his daughter had left in great fear. An unstable chap working as a vegetable delivery man made absurd claims about blood dripping from ceilings, apports and aliens. The only thing all were agreed on was that a man in an old fashioned uniform just appeared mainly at the top of the stairs or in the living room, and occasionally at family get togethers when they sang round the piano, and he radiated sadness and had a very depressed feel to him. After several years you get a feel for what is coming in these situations, but here I was quite wrong. We duly brought in several members of our rescue circle, for what is now called deliverance, this was in the days before EMF electro-magnetic field sensors, Or temperature guns, all we had was 2 pairs of night vision goggles a thermometer for cold spots and a primitive tape recorder, and after using this equipment which seems funny now, we settled on where to hold our s�ance. The evening went without any signs other than a couple of cold draughts, and we were about to pack up when David Tyndall in his comic way said quietly; �Houston we have contact� and there by the door where he was often seen was a figure of a young soldier, and the feeling of deep sadness was tangible. As we all held hands and said �you are welcome among us stranger� The half light shone on his hair which was parted down the middle, he stood upright as if to attention, he had a small moustache and wore a black button up to the neck military uniform, with a cap under his armpit. Although we had been asked to exorcise the spirit, it seemed to want to stay there for some important reason, this is called �transfixation� and is common in these situations and this we granted. A growing realisation from the public that exorcism is often only a last resort, This man did not want to move on, and we agreed no spiritual eviction was necessary I am pretty good at historical time periods but I could not tell much more except some traumatic event had impeded his progress, he had become emotionally paralysed in time for whatever reason, and could only communicate his sadness. This was frustrating, and we asked the landlord again about the previous tenants, he then said long before his time as owner, an old lady lived here and was now in a local retirement home. Samnan one of our circle members was a gifted artist and drew a convincing likeness of the soldier, which I then took to the old folks home. The sight of a frail old lady propped up in an armchair greeted me when a nurse showed me to where she sat, with strict instructions not to tire her. She showed no interest in what I had to say at all until I showed her the drawing. She gasped �that�s herbie� and an awful story poured out of how these young men were pressured to enlist under age for W.W.1 Her brother Herbie had enlisted at age 15 when officially the age was 18, He had fought through the war until after the horrific battle of the Somme, When suffering from shell shock he had run away. Many young men some just schoolboys, were sent out prepared to kill and maim foreigners, not realising that their own government and people would kill them. Desertion from duty was called cowardice, and a firing squad shot this schoolboy soldier next day, and his next of kin denied his back pay. Herbie had appeared regularly at the family home declaring he was innocent of any charges of cowardice. The stigma at that time of having a family member shot for desertion was dreadful, For many years the family denied they knew the identity of the young soldier who appeared in the home and stood close to them. Now we understand about post traumatic shock, but it was not recognised back then. All other E.E.C member countries have given posthumous pardons to those murdered by their own government- except Britain. Herbies soul cannot rest until the injustice done to him and his family is put right. The first world war ended in 1918 surely now we can give these men rest. * Herbies sister asked his name to be changed to protect the families reputation Scotland has just announced a posthumous pardon for all those burnt at the stake for witchcraft 400 years ago.
T Stokes paranormalist
THE HAUNTED AIRFIELD
The world war two airfield known as R.A.F. Bircham Newton in rural England, has long been a Mecca for both students of the paranormal, and spiritualist mediums arriving on a mission to help and heal. The part of the airfield where even sceptics hear voices, and old aircraft noises on a regular basis, is actually on what are now the tennis courts, and it is here most paranormal activity occurres. So it was here that we focused our main attentions. Such things as the setting up of machinery and the gadgetry of the paranormal, inevitably attracts attention, and soon we had the obligatory bunch of ?Mickey takers?, with the usual jokes that was probably older than they were. The words of Horace Walpole came to mind:?The world is a comedy for those that think, and a tragedy for those who feel ?. And it was into the world of feelings that we were to trespass. Ghosts fall roughly into two categories, there were those who were just the emotions of long ago impressed into the ether, and like mindless recordings doing the same round time after time, year after year, and those that were alive to their surroundings but trapped in time, and it was these that we wished to communicate with, to see why they would accept no mediums help to pass to their correct sphere. In order to gain a verifiable record for posterity, we had with us the paraphernalia of the E.V.P. specialist. Plus some M.O.D scanning devices not normally available to investigators. Electronic Voice Phenomena, is the means with tape recorders, and some small metallic amplifiers, and sound plates, to regain sounds lost in the past, on a recording, The government consistently denies using mediums and psychics during world war two, But due to the negligence of Winston Churchill, whole intelligence departments were run by soviet agents and a lot of their material on the contributions made by British psychics has been available from Soviet files, thanks to people like Vasili Mitrikhin. In fact the British agent Peter Wright of ? Spy catcher? fame, spoke of the possibilities of E.V.P. during the troubles in Cyprus, and experimented from his home in Essex, this man a great British patriot, was cheated out of his pension by the very government he served, while the soviet defector Anatole Vrinisky has described him as an electronics genius and one greatly feared in Moscow. However, we stood about for quite some time on the windy tennis courts, and the shouts and comments of the airmen, both amazed us, and gave explanation of why these men would not go to gods allotted place for them, until they had their say. One airman acted as spokes man for the others all gave their names and rank, He said there were many airmen gathered here, which really shook me, and I wondered the reasons why this could be so. Steve an old hand in these areas, who held the sound plates began to weep and was shaking visibly. With an emotional voice the airman told us that these bomber crews had been targeting not enemy soldiers but, dormitory towns, where German soldiers families lived, these towns were largely undefended against attack, for surely there would be no need to defend them, and Winston Churchill ordered not the German army, but the families of German soldiers to be mass fire bombed. Again, it was Churchill who refused to allow Germany offers to surrender since 1942, he and ?Bomber? Harris wanted only complete destruction, they called this many times, ?total war?. This airman?s spirit then said one cold, lonely and noisy bombing run, he suddenly found himself with other British airmen, in a pushing throng of women and children, making for a large staircase that arose up to quite where he could not see, but saw a mother trying to carry two injured children, and on offering to carry one was shocked to see and smell, the child?s burned flesh, it was at this point that he realised that although he spoke no German, he could understand every word spoken, and on turning to his air colleagues, he suddenly knew they were all dead. Gone was any feeling of enemies for all helped each other to reach the stair But almost all the British airmen decided to remain behind. These men are both trapped and guilt ridden, they plead for their voices to be heard, they see themselves as war criminals, they signed up to fight soldiers, not the wives and children of soldiers, and need some degree of closure, their anger after all these years is still palpable. Asked if they wish for help to progress on, almost to a man they do not, one man with a Scots accent, said it is justice for the dead for which they wait. And please to tell their families they were all O. K. We read together for them the address of Canon Henry Scott ?Holland, once dean of St. Paul?s: ?Death is nothing at all, I have only slipped away into the next room, I am I and you are you. Whatever we were to each other that we are still. Call me by my old familiar name; speak to me in the easy way you always used. Put no difference into your tone; wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow? What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near just around the corner, All is well.? Further reading; Falsehoods in wartime by A. Ponsonby and From admiral to cabin boy by Barry Domville
T.Stokes lecturer in paranormal studies.
THE SKELETON IN THE CUPBOARD
( taken from an exorcists chronicles) A book in preparation.
Lea Bridge Rd. in Leyton, east London, was the venue of a bizarre incident which ranks as a text book case of a most macabre haunting, in the early 1970s. Just past the rail station on the bridge itself stood a batch of early Victorian houses, These houses had been empty for some time having been purchased by the council in a road widening scheme. The end house was the ?Jailhouse ?, rock and roll club, and was a magnet for motorbike lads from a wide area, and it was these lads that informed me that a house next door had a peculiar and scary feel to it. On entering this house like a lot of houses of this age the smell of must and damp tickled the nostrils, this can be attractive to certain types of spirit, but walking the house I made the assessment that if it was haunted it was of a very minor category say a 2 or a 3.. Stopping outside to look back at this large old house which must have been an impressive building in its day, I noticed that like the others it was a 3 storey building, and for some reason I had seen over only 2. Going back and searching upstairs I could find no sign of a third storey, so I then began tapping round the walls and came across a hollow sounding panel, which felt like it was plaster boarded over with a flowery wallpaper on top. The houses were due to be demolished anyway so I put my foot through the hollow sounding false wall to be amazed by a small upper staircase standing behind. After mounting the stairs and assessing the wallpaper as perhaps pre-war, which gave an indication of age, I felt it would soon give up its secrets as to why someone would block off a whole top storey. Standing at the top of the house and taking in the fact that I was the only person to be here for decades and looking at newspapers strewn over the floor for the dates on them, they were all discoloured wartime papers, and I listened to what I thought were the increasingly noisy pigeons in the loft. It was then that I realised that this room also was smaller than it should have been and obviously there was a false wall here too. Very suddenly the atmosphere in the room changed my hackles on the back of my neck felt as if there was a cold hair dryer blowing up and down my back, my legs went weak, and I almost lost control of my bowels, my aura quickly drew in very close as in situations of great danger, the feeling that there was a wild animal threatening was quite similar, the knowledge that hate filled eyes were watching me from a walled off room overtook my curiosity, the noise from the so called pidgeons in the roof rose to a crescendo, my only feeling was of utter terror. As I ran down the newly discovered stairs and did not stop until I reached the street to analyse my feelings, the thought dawned on me with deep humiliation that here was I who was regarded as an expert in these matters , who gave talks the length and breadth of the country, brought in to placate and understand things such as this and I ran away in great fear, and cowardice. The correct procedure is to re-enter the haunted property say the lords prayer, while burning certain herbs and grasses, throw holy water and get out quick, while arranging a rescue circle to come in later to clear up any infestation. But on no account as I threw up my dinner in the street outside was I prepared to go inside again. It was actually several weeks later when a couple of demolition workers who had been knocking down the houses for the road widening scheme, told me excitedly that up in the sealed off top of the house, had been found a skeleton of a man sealed into the wall, and I was presented with the ancient handcuffs that held his wrists together, which I have to this day, and as my own children remind me when they were small and naughty they would have to spend one whole minute in the handcuffs, which now adorn my fireplace. Funnily enough visitors to my home are instantly drawn to them, yet all say they still have a sinister feel to them. I heard a story going round some time later that during world war two, Winston Churchill emptied the prisons to serve on the Russian convoys, because the British had broken the German intelligence codes, we knew which of our ships would be sunk, so Churchill in his wisdom bought at great cost an out of date first world war fleet of battle ships from America, solely to act as decoys for the German U. boats, thus keeping them off the ships he wanted kept safe. Anyway the upshot was that it was believed that several of these criminals had escaped, not wanting this appointed fate, and one had come to find his mother who lived locally, made demands for her savings to get away, and ended up in the wall. For the spirit of a man to remain with the body, shows that usually fear of having to pay for ones sins prevents the soul from passing through what the bible refers to as ?the second death?. I do feel in this case that the attendant sense of solid evil, which is not that normal in matters such as this, is telling inasmuch as this soul refused to go on perhaps because it needed a Christian burial, some times people who have led crime ridden lives, on realising that even at death they must face their actions, which can be spiritually indigestible, and can strike cold fear into the hardest heart , so exorcism should be primarily a healing experience. Souls such as this need closure, to progress, how they sustain themselves in this twilight zone, between worlds for sometimes many years, is one of the secrets of vampirism. But the tale of the hunt for the Waltham Cross vampire is another story. What skeletons do you have in your cupboards?
copyright T.Stokes 2001
THE HAUNTED BEDROOM ( taken from an exorcists chronicles ) a book in preparation word count 548 This was indeed a strange case, a large house in Goodwins Rd. in the town of Kings Lynn, which is known to locals as the ?armpit of England?, which is how it looks on the map. It was the home of third generation medium Shirley Pearce, and on occasion her mother would speak of her friend, the famous Helen Duncan who was imprisoned during W.W.II for accurately predicting the truth on British shipping losses. When our own government was lying to us about it. Shirley the present householder, would often tell of the houses previous occupant now long dead, a certain Mrs. Ambrose, who would walk the house and move things about, and be a general spirit nuisance. So accepted was this ghostly Mrs Ambrose that Shirley would chat away to her on a regular basis, while doing her housework. The house was a regular drop in point for all the local spiritualists for a chat, cup of tea and if you were lucky, a slice of her home made ?ucky cake? made from an old Scottish family recipe, whose secret formula she would never divulge. One day a knock on her door had brought several large policemen, who asked if they could use her small back bedroom to watch from the window, which overlooked a house frequented by the usual crowd of strange odd-bodds, the general unwashed socialist brigade, football obsessives, small time drug traffickers, and an estate agent type. When she exclaimed that this was the room of the dead Mrs. Ambrose, the policemen stifled back a laugh, however she agreed that one could stop over on a ?nightwatch.? All went well until a large new policeman arrived at her door and was a little dismissive when she told him it was the dead Mrs. Ambrose?s bedroom, and not to upset her. Some time into the night a large shaken, upset and very white looking policeman emerged quickly from the room and blurted out that he had been watching in the dark from behind the curtains when he became aware of a deep rasping breathing just behind him in the dark, and was frightened he had angered the ghost of Mrs. Ambrose, so with his knees shaking and white in the face, he had rushed to ask about the scary breathing he heard in the room. Shirley the medium tried to pacify him without success, until finally she took him back into the room and showed him ?spot? Spot was her large tabby cat who was often to be found sneaking in to any open bedroom to sleep on the bed, and he tended to have a loud snore. On learning that he had in fact been haunted by ?spot the tabby cat? The large shaken policeman was not amused, and expressly forbad her to tell any of the other policemen, lest he would never live it down. But after some tea and ?ucky cake? he said he saw the funny side of things, but the moral of the story is always first to look for a rational explanation first, The good news was that ?spot the cat? became the hero of both the local spiritualist church, and the police station. T.Stokes copyright 2001 paranormal studies lecturer
First off I am the editor of this site and yes I too have strange dreams etc. About three or more years ago I had a dream, I know what you're thinking, how could I remember a dream after three years, well the only reason I did is because from time to time I like to use my dreams as inspiration for paintings. Anyway In my dream I was looking from New Jersy towards New York from accross the water at all the buildings etc. and in front of the view still on the New Jersy side was a huge cage full of people and surrounding the cage were some crocodiles with WINGS, on top of the cage was either myself or somebody else "not sure" and that person was trying to unlatch the gate of the cage to set the people free. Under any other circumstances this dream may not seem so signifigant but since Sept.11,2001 it really made me think........ Have a good look at it and tell me what you think.