GHOSTS, I personally do not believe in, but this is perfectly true.
During the war, I was stationed for a short period at an empty
convalescent camp, bordering the sea on the French coast. Our duty
was to guard this, and, at night, we were a double guard—one held the
main entrance, the other paraded the whole camp—a most desolate and
wild affair amongst sand dunes and fir trees. My duty fell for this
roving commission, and, wandering around, I felt compelled to enter
the wood, and gaze at the camp from outside. The night was fair, with
a moon casting long shadows, and, imagine my astonishment to behold
a most weird apparition gliding effortless before me. I was struck
dumb with surprise mingled with fear, but, remembering my loaded
rifle and bayonet, I pulled myself together and investigated. It
appeared to vanish, and, to my great surprise, straight through one
of the hospitals. I searched, but in vain, and saw nothing more.
Whether I was wrong, whether I saw something, I know not to this day.