Winter on an August Night( A Ghost Story)

This Story takes place in 1944, so obviously i was not there, but the story was told to me by one of the participants and i have no reason to doubt his story. It was told to me on an unusually cold August night in 1984, 40 years after the events that i am about to tell you. It was told to me by my Uncle Alexander and takes place on the battlefields of World War Two. And again you can believe it or not.
It was August 14th 1944 and my Uncle Alex was sitting in a foxhole in France waiting out a German bombing along with many others that night. The air was cold and he swore you could see the spirits of those that had sacrificed their lives,on both sides, rising from the bodies and ascending into heaven. “It felt like winter on that August night” is what he said as he remembered that eerie feeling, like he was watching Angels overhead. As Dawn was approaching and the wounded were getting the help they needed, the order came to rush the German line and end this battle once and for all, damn the consequences. Stepping out of the foxhole and avoiding the falling comrades in the open field my Uncle felt the chill of death around himself and the others that were still with him as they fought their way through the field of “lost souls” as he called it. A group of soldiers including my uncle were told to move to the left and try to draw fire away from the main group and “God bless you all boy’s” was called out to the group as they set out on what would be an eventful run. As the group made their way cautiously the Germans began firing at them and that is when Alex saw something that made him shiver and saved the 8 men that were with him. Yelling at him to take cover in a small cove to his left was his Older Brother Bruce who was supposed to be in a different area of France defending his country. Unsure of what he saw he did as he heard and the group ran for cover in the cove, and made it with little time to spare as a bomb that would have killed them all hit the area they had just vacated. His brother gave him a smile and waved goodbye and just vanished into the cold mist that was around and none of the group really knew what happened, but were glad that the stranger in the Canadian army Fatigues had saved their lives. The battle lasted for about another 2 hours until the Germans retreated from their stronghold and the Canadian Forces took what amounted to 150 yards of useless swamp land in France.
Upon returning to command central, my Uncle Alex was still unsure of what he saw that early morning but quickly forgot about it when he was called into the field commanders tent and saw a Priest in the tent and an official looking Sergeant that he did not know. The priest then informed him that during the night his older brother Bruce was killed in action and he was being given some time off to help arrange burial for him. Alex turned white and started laughing, causing some to think he had cracked up, but all he could say was “that S.O.B. always had to one up me, and damn he did it again”.   To his dying day Alex always believed that Bruce did indeed save him on what he called WINTER ON AN AUGUST NIGHT

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One thought on “Winter on an August Night( A Ghost Story)

  1. If you knew the men involved in this story it would be a chilling night.But 2 things that i did not know first i did not know that bruce was the older brother, and i always thought that uncle and bruce were in the same unit.So according to this story then Uncle would have been at the burial site in france when uncle bruce died, was uncle alone then or were there other Hespeler boys with him.

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