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Old 29-12-2018, 10:50 PM
weareunity weareunity is offline
Join Date: Jan 2017
Posts: 321
The ghost car.

This story was told to me years ago by a retired member of the British Air Force. I was never sure if it was a true tale or a tall tale.--but no matter, for I am not now sure if I have remembered all the details correctly in any case.

During the second World War--as it has come to be known-- some military personnel were sent away from Britain to other Commonwealth countries to continue their training away from "hostilities". Some were sent to Canada, others to South Africa, and others perhaps elsewhere. This story is set somewhere in South Africa of the early 1940s.

A training camp was established a few miles from a town and connected to it by a completely straight road which ran across a flat and featureless landscape.
Those at the camp were allowed to travel into the town for recreation etc. The officer ranks had no restriction on their time of return, but junior ranks were required to be back inside the camp by midnight. Returning after that time meant having names taken at the guard house at the entrance to the camp, and facing disciplinary action thereafter. The military ran a bus service back to the camp from the town which left the town at 11.30pm.

One unfortunate character in our story missed the bus by reason of a somewhat fuddled head after a night out. Our friend decided to begin the walk back to camp making rather erratic progress, when looking back toward the town saw some dim lights which seemed to be on the road leaving the town.

Ah, thought our friend, resourceful even though fuddled, I shall try to get a lift.

So stopped walking and waited for what seemed to be an approaching vehicle.--and waited and waited, and waited, for the lights got closer painfully slowly.

Eventually however, a car became visible, moving at snails pace and silently. Our friend was bemused but not deterred. Surprised though, for only the side lights were lit and as far as was possible to see, nobody was driving. Still undeterred our friend decided to approach alongside the car in a crouched manner, quietly opened a rear door, and slid onto the rear seat, ducking down behind the front seats to avoid being seen.

There was no sound, no shout of alarm or query, the car just continued to move slowly onward.

Our friend had by now begun to find access to normal senses and was perturbed by this strange experience but sat tight, crouched, for want of any better course of action.

The car stopped, and quickly looking out of the side window our friend saw that it had stopped very conveniently directly outside the guardhouse to the camp. Silently, but quick as a flash, our friend slipped out of the car and into the shadow of the guard house, ducked down below the guards window and proceeded safely back to his billet without being spotted.

The next morning sees our friend and fellows assembled inside the camp near the guardhouse, awaiting the arrival of their sergeant with orders for the day. Looking beyond the guard house our friend sees a car parked on the side of the road with the bonnet( hood) up and someone tinkering with the engine.

Our friend, being actually a helpful sort of person, decides to leave his mates and go over to the car with what seems like important information for the person tinkering.

Excuse me, excuse me--- the tinkerer appears from under the bonnet(hood), a young officer. Yes, what is it man?

It's this car sir. --Why, what about it? --There's something wrong with it Sir.

I bl--dy well know that man! I had to push the damned thing here all the way from the town last night!!

Thanks for the story. RIP Jock. pete
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