Strange happening on the pan. A true tale of the supernatural By Charles Roberts

  If you go to any Air Force station, both in use and not, in the country of Great Britain you will find tales of strange happenings.  In a very few cases these can be explained, but the majority cannot.  Like the one at an old wartime airfield near Doncaster.  They flew Liberators from there during the war, this one night the squadron were setting off for a raid on Cologne or Essen.  One aircraft managed to take off but one of his engines failed and he came down into a marsh, his bomb load exploding on impact, all they could do was fill the hole in.  In the 70’s a friend told me this tale.  It was well known that, on occasions, a man dressed in full flying kit with his parachute over his shoulder could be seen standing at the side of the road opposite the end of the runway.  A friend of mine was riding his motorcycle in to work one day and saw him, as have quite a few other travellers along that stretch of road.

The story I am about to tell is, again, real.  It happened in the sixties at an airfield somewhere in Yorkshire.  They had stopped using the airfield for flying and converted it as a missile base, using the old aircraft dispersals for the missile launchers. 

Imagine, if you can, the tarmac perimeter track running round the runway, connecting the technical site, where all the hangers and workshops are with the dispersals. (Hard standings, for the aircraft, which are scattered around the acres of field surrounding the runways.)  The dispersals are in sets of three, like a clover leaf.  A control room is situated about a hundred yards from each set of three dispersals.  Concrete trunking, (a trough about a yard wide and two feet high) runs from the control room to each dispersal, these contain the electrical wiring.  A store room and small workshop is situated next to the perimeter track in the middle of the three dispersals.  On the dispersals themselves, are the missile launchers, a liquid oxygen trolley and the missile itself.  These areas were maned twenty four hours a day three hundred and sixty five days a year, they were patrolled by the RAF police with dogs twenty four hours a day.

The mind can play tricks in the middle of the night, we can see things which don’t exist, or don’t they?

One autumn night, about two twenty in the morning, there was no moon, but the stars were shining brightly.  In the control room the Sergeant sat looking at dials and instruments on the array in front of him.  A Corporal sits reading a novel and an Airman is stood making tea for the three of them.

“Eddie!” the Sergeant called, nip up to thirty two will you?  Have a look at the liquid oxygen, make sure it’s all right.”

“Right Sarg.  What appears to be the problem?”

“Not sure!  Either it is running low or this gauge is faulty.”

“Okay!” Eddie said putting the Corporal’s tea down on a table in front of him and carrying the Sergeant’s through to the control room and placing it down in front of the Sergeant.  Eddie glanced at the dial and gave it a gentle tap.

“Done that!” the Sergeant said looking up from writing in the log book.

“Just checking Sarg.” 

Eddie left the control room, now he had a choice.  He could either walk along the trunking to the dispersal, or he could walk up the perimeter track, which would mean passing the small workshop.  I might need some tools, he thought as he set off up the perimeter track.  He was about halfway between the control room and the workshop when he noticed that the lights in the workshop were on.  There was a window either side of the door.  Then he saw a shadow pass one of the windows.  Must be Rod and Sheba in there, he thought as he continued towards the workshop. 

“Hello Sheba old girl!” Eddie called as he opened the door.  The workshop was empty.  Eddie went across to the work bench where the ‘phone was and rang the control room.

“Sarg!  You’re not going to believe this, but when I was walking up to the workshop I saw that the lights were on.”

“So!  They often get left on.”

“I know that Sarg!  But I saw a shadow walk past one of the windows.  I thought it might be Rod and Sheba, but when I got in here the place is empty.”

“Are you sure you saw a shadow, lad?”

“Positive!”

“Stay there Eddie.  I’ll get on the radio and find out where Rod is.  Are you all right?”

“Yeah!  No problem.”

“Right!”  The Sergeant put the ‘phone down and picked up his radio.

“Rod!  Rod!  This is the control room, do you read?  Over!”

“Hello Sarg,” Rod said, “reading you loud and clear, over.”

“Hello Rod.  What’s your location?  Over.”

“Hello Sarg!  I’m on pan thirty one, over.”

“Hello Rod.  Young Eddie has just ‘phoned to say that he saw someone walk passed a window in the workshops.  He’s gone in thinking it was you, but the place is empty.  Over.”

“All right Sarg!  I’ll go and check pans thirty two and three, then go have a word with him.  Is he still in the workshop?  Over.”

“Hello Rod!  Yes, he’s waiting for you there, over.”

Rod lead Sheba, his highly trained police dog, to pan thirty two, but as Rod stepped onto the pan Sheba sat down and wouldn’t move.

“Come on girl!” he said, “what’s wrong girl?  Come on,” but no matter what Rod did Sheba would not set foot on the tarmac.

“All right!” Rod said, “let’s go check pan thirty three.”  Rod set off round pan thirty two with Sheba dutifully at his side, but wouldn’t set foot on the tarmac of pan thirty two.  They reached pan thirty three and checked everything, Sheba walking at her handler’s side.  Rod then led her to the workshop, the door was open with Eddie waiting inside.  As Rod and Sheba arrived at the door to the workshop, Sheba sat down and wouldn’t go in.

“Come on Sheba!” Rod called.

“Hello Sheba old girl,” Eddie called encouragingly from inside the building.

“Sheba!” Rod said, “Come!”  But no matter what Rod or Eddie did or said Sheba refused to enter the building.  “Sheba!  Stay!”  Rod ordered and went into the workshop.  “Has anything been touched Eddie?”

“No!  I saw the lights on and then I saw a shadow pass by that window,” he said pointing to the window to the right of the door.

“And nothing is missing.”

“When I opened the door the place was empty.”

“Empty?”

“Yeah!  I thought that it was you in here, but there was no one.”

“All right,” Rod said taking his radio.  “Hello base this is one, one, zero.  Do you read, over?”

“Hello one, one, zero, this is base send your message, over.”

“Hello base this is one, one, zero.  I am in the workshop at dispersal thirty two.  We have a situation.  Over,” he looked at Eddie and, then at Sheba sitting outside the door.  Very soon they could hear the sound of an approaching Land Rover.  It came to a stop on the perimeter track near the workshop and four armed policemen got out.

“What’s the problem Rod?  Hello Sheba!  Why aren’t you inside with your dad girl?”

“She won’t come in.” Rod said looking at the newcomers.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.  Eddie here was on his way to the pan when he noticed the lights in here.”

“Is that unusual?”

“Not very, but I saw a shadow go past that window,” Eddie told them, “when I came in, there was no one in here.”

The newcomers looked at each other.

“And when the Sarg in the control room radioed me about it,” Rod started, “I was on pan thirty one, I made my way to pan thirty two but Sheba wouldn’t go on it.  She just sat down and wouldn’t budge.”  The four all looked at Sheba who was still sat outside the building.  “I walked her across to pan thirty three and we checked that without a problem, but when we got here she wouldn’t come in.  Again she simply sat down and won’t budge.”

“What is it girl?” one of the four asked the dog, “what’s in here that you don’t like?”

“All right lads,” the senior military policeman said, “I want a thorough check of the area.  Check each pan and building.  You Rod take Sheba along the trunking to see if there’s anyone hiding between here and the control room.  You lad,” he said to Eddie, “you’d better get on with what it is you came up here for.  One of my men will go with you, just in case.”

The police spread out and did as they had been told.  One walked with Eddie as he checked the liquid oxygen unit.

“Okay!  That’s me done.”

“What now?” the policeman asked.

“Back to the control room.”

“All right lad, you carry on.  I’ll wait here for the rest to finish.”

A thorough check was made of the area but nothing was found.  Much later an officer, who served on the station when there was flying there, heard about this story and came forward.  He told of an aircraft which crashed near pan thirty two, the pilot managed to get out of the aircraft and walk down the perimeter track for a bit when he collapsed and died.  He was found on the tarmac near where the workshop and storeroom were built.