A Scouting Spirit

In my last post, I spoke of what happens when you mess with a ghost. At the end of that writing, I promised that I would share a story that happened with both a ghost and my scout troop while stationed in the United Kingdom. One might have thought after my first story that I would have learned my lesson that pranks and spirits don’t always mix. I am happy to report that this one has a different ending.

I believe that this happened in the summer of ’94 possibly ’95. I had become involved with the Boy Scouts since the Air Force actually used your community involvement as part of your annual evaluation. My first summer, I and other leaders took a den of Webelos up to camp. Once my scouts promoted, I moved with them to the troop. My second trip to camp was as an Assistant Scout Master. I decided on this trip to have some fun.

Up until recently, the American Scouts used to camp at a British Scout Center near Sheffield. If you have never heard of this city, think of the movie Full Monty. It takes place in the same area. The cool thing about the UK is that every part of it has history. I decided to add a little bit of history for our camp.

At the end of our first day, the boys were zipped up into their tents. The travel, setting up camp, and go through the first day’s activities has pretty much worn them out. For leaders, this was great. It gave us some time to unwind and sort out all of the schedules for the coming week. Once we had completed as much as we could, I headed down the hill to the shower area.

I came back from the showers refreshed and ready for some fun. I noticed the Scout Master and other assistant had headed for their tents. The timing was perfect for what popped into my head. I positioned myself between the tents and called out to the kitchen area. “Can I help you?” That is all I needed to get the two other leaders to pop their heads out. They looked in the direction that I faced.

“Who are you talking to?”

“Um,” I paused.

“What?” The Scout Master asked.

“There was a person standing there a second ago. I looked down when I heard the zipper on your tent. When I looked up……he….vanished.” Both men exited their tents and were now standing next to me – staring.

“There’s nobody there,” the assistant spoke.

“I swear that there was somebody there a minute ago. I thought it was Ian. He was wearing an old British Scout uniform.” I let that sink in. “It was as if he was checking over things to make sure it was all good. Then…just…disappeared.”

Both of them walked over to the kitchen area looking. I had them.

The next morning when the boys were lingering over breakfast especially those with KP, I thought I would see if I could get them going. I quietly, or made it look like I was doing as such, I asked the assistant if he thought I should share about our “visitor.” That was enough to get the boys asking what I meant. I hesitated. I stated that I probably shouldn’t share. This ramped it up. The boys begged to know who had come to our camp the night before.

I explained to them what I had seen. Just as I had expected, the boys scoffed at the story. The laughed and told me that I was just trying to scare them. “Really?” I asked. “What time is it?”

The boys told me that it was 7, but they now seemed puzzled.

“If I was trying to scare you would I be telling you about this in the morning, or would I wait until it was dark?” I knew that this question would get them. I stopped at this point and let it sink in. The boys wanted to know more, but I told them I didn’t want them afraid. The visitor appeared to be friendly. We sent them off on their day and into their classes. I didn’t think anymore of the prank until lunch.

The first year boys came running back to camp. The young scouts did a program called ACE. Part of the program included an extensive tour of the entire center. The boys were excited to tell me that while on their tour, they had found a single grave. For some reason the name, Benjamin comes to mind. They did not know this person’s history, but they decided since he was buried at a scout center – he must be an old scout. I let them tell the rest of the troop. Our spirit had a name. He now took on a life of his own.

Later that second day, one of the boys came to report that he had lost his scout knife the night before. He told us that he had been sharpening it at the fire the night before, but now the knife was nowhere to be found. We asked where he put it after sharpening, his reply was “On the stones surrounding the fire.” We raked the ash but found nothing.

Benjamin was quiet the rest of the day, but he popped up again the next day. The boys came asking if we had picked up their football. We told them we hadn’t – we really hadn’t. They informed us that they had left the ball out between the tents when they left that morning – right in a walk way. We suggested everyone look in their tents. The owner of the ball produced it within a few minutes. He had an odd look on his face. When questioned by the boys, he told them that the ball had been placed back in his bag where it belonged. They decided that Benjamin must have put it away for them.

News started to spread to the other troops that we had a spirit watching over our camp. A couple of other scouts and leaders actually stopped by to hear the stories. The boys seemed to take pride in having their own ghost. They even started having their own sightings.

The next evening our older boys asked if they could stay up a bit past curfew. You see not only did we have a ghost, we had pets – a number of them. The camp had hedgehogs. Each evening after the boys quieted down, they would come up over a hill that formed the border of the scout center. The little critters would come through our camp down to the road where troops would place their bags of trash for pickup. They would feast and then head back through our camp on the way back home. The older scouts wanted to see the march.

We sat there at the fence waiting for them. We could hear them rustling through the weeds. Shortly, we saw a group of them come under the fence on their way to dinner. One of the boys, grinning from ear to ear, turned to say something about the hedgehogs. His words stopped before exiting his mouth. His eyes widened and his color drained. Everyone stopped and looked at him. We inquired what happened.

“I saw him.” He stated.

“Who,” I asked.

“Benjamin. He was standing there when I turned and then disappeared.” The scout’s face showed no sign of this being a joke. You could tell he meant it. I glanced around and saw one of our leaders moving to a tent. As best I could tell, it was his shadow being thrown over the kitchen from a lantern. I could never prove this.

We had parents come up for the final night’s campfire. They heard all about our friend. We went down to the campfire and had a great time. As we were marching back up the tiny hill to camp, the scouts were laughing, singing, joking, and just having fun. The next thing I knew, I was walking by myself. The scouts had gone quiet. I turned around to see them all standing still. The first told me they had seen a set of eyes glowing in the camp. I looked up at camp and saw what I believe they saw. One of the patrol flags had reflecting tape on it. The boys disagreed. The one thing they all agreed on was that they had all had the privilege to see Benjamin. Not one was afraid since he had been kind the entire week. I thought about telling them the truth on the ride home the next day.

The final morning came. I loved to get up before the rest of the campers, make a cup of coffee and sit in silence. It was the only time of the day when I could hear my thoughts. I rose as usual and started the coffee. I sat down to ponder the week that had just passed. That is when I saw a sign that maybe Benjamin wasn’t really my imagination.

Not only was I the first to rise, but I was also the last to bed. I believe that as a leader it was my job to ensure that everything was secure for the night. I loved to sit under the stars. Part of my nightly ritual was to check that the scouts hadn’t left anything lying about. Everything had been put away the night before. All was clean.

Yet, on this final morning, I sat down at the table to find it was not empty. There in the center of the table say a scout knife. It was clean, shiny, and sharp. It also bore the name of the scout who had reported a missing knife at the beginning of the week. It now sat on a table that had been empty when I went to bed the night before – the last person to go to bed.

I decided not to tell the boys that I had started the prank. I was no longer sure that it was a prank.

So once again, I learned not to mess with spirits. How about you?

Thank you for meandering with me tonight.

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