Batteries in the Hanger

A few days into 2024, after receiving a coded message from the boss of GHT asking if I was free for a chat, I was offered the opportunity to sit somewhere between crew member and guest on their investigations. The only condition was that I write about my experiences. I, of course, jumped at the chance and now found the excitement building as I turned off the Thanet Way following the signs to Manston, a just over full moon visible between the clouds. This was to be a night of firsts; my first visit to RAF Manston History Museum in about 18 years, my first opportunity to investigate this location and my first as the personal blogger for Ghost Hunter Tours (GHT).

Credit: SJP

RAF Manston’s birth came in 1915, when the open farmlands allowed for emergency landings for the early planes of the RFC. The site has weathered two world wars, a cold war, an influx of American air force personnel, followed by their British counterparts again, before its transfer to civilian use. It boasts one of the longest runways in the UK and has been an emergency landing site for aircraft of all kinds, even the Space Shuttle could have plugged the postcode in their emergency sat-nav if it felt the need.

With this long history, it comes as no surprise that reports of the paranormal have been associated with the runways, pathways and buildings of the site. Some of which now house the museum. It is also not a shock that death probably had his own bunk, as many a brave man left in their metal flying machines but returned in a wooden box, if they were return at all. If reports are to believed, some certainly remain. One of the earliest sightings comes from a MOD firefighter in January 1970/1971 where a figure wearing flying helmet, Irvin Jacket and Mae West was seen, this would not be unusual attire but what was unusual was that the figure was semi-translucent.

With equipment unloaded with the crew for the night, we were warmly greeted by the museum’s in house paranormal team. With coffees made, we followed Alex on a pre-tour, where she highlighted key areas of interest within the hangers and a warning to watch your head since planes don’t move. During our tour, Alex explained some of the phenomena that had previously been experienced, including the capture of footage where a cat ball rolled up a slope. The hangers seemed to be cool in temperature but charged with a sense of anticipation. Were the spirits gathering? Were they interested in a fresh set of investigators? Or gearing up to just have a bit of fun with the newbies?

Credit: SJP

Part of my new blogging opportunity, I was also able to set up a special experiment that would run unattended throughout the evening. The plan was to lock off a set up of dominos in the shape of SJP and track them with a trail cam, just in case any ethereal entity fancied a game. Or maybe just shift them about a bit. Locking them off meant I could make sure there was no earth bound interference. I had chosen the area, known as Area 51, firstly because there was a fenced off area providing a physical barrier from the guests and the experiment, and secondly because during the tour this was the location where my breath became visible.

Credit: SJP

Museums generally try to keep the air temperature consistent around delicate exhibits, this is obviously a challenge in a large aircraft hangar – but checks conducted with a thermometer showed that the large space was generally between 12 and 13 degrees – even in Area 51 – so not cold enough for breath vapour to crystalise as it had. Also of note, when I raised it to my fellow crew members only my breath was visible.

Credit: https://rafmanston.co.uk/our-aircraft-and-cockpit-displays/

The investigation started as all good investigations should, muster, roll call and group assignments. I followed the group heading into the hanger, where I soon found myself sat in the rear of a Wessex Helicopter providing a brief explanation of what an Estes Session was.

The throbbing sound of white noise pumping out of the headphones into the blindfolded sitters ears was just audible in the silence as we got ourselves comfortable. Our group lead suddenly announcing that her torch, which had been on charge all day, had just died as the sitter spoke “Hello.” Questions soon began to flow; Is there anyone there? Did you fly the plans? Were you in the Air Force? All met with silence. “Can you tell us your name please?” the sitter responded that she was getting something but can’t tell what it was. A definite ‘Help’ came from the headphones, “I’m getting a lot of voices” came from the sitter. We established through this method that there were 4 or 5 invisible persons that were wanting to say their piece and identified the names Adrian, Steve, Eric, Frank and Emily.

It appeared that they had identified our sitter, who reported that she had heard her own name appear out of the static. As well as the spirit box through the headphones a Spirit Talker App and my trusty Chattergeist Touch were also running to provide additional sources of communication. The sitter repeated that there were too many voices coming through so taking a little authority I said “Spirits, we understand that you are excited to communicate with us, but you are going to need to form an orderly queue,” “Do what he says” came from the headphones. The cacophony of voices continued but were reported to be talking to each other, as if listening in to a conversation between a group of people.

Suddenly everyone started reporting feeling cold. Deploying my thermometer it read as 12.5 degrees, breath became visible again and so I asked if anyone could drop the temperature by a degree to show their presence.

Credit: SJP

A change of sitter, this time a male, and as the equipment was transferred the group leader reported feeling as if someone (or something) had sat on her lap). Next to the thermometer, in a convenient eye-ring hole a cat ball was placed. As I had requested the temperature had slowly dropped to 11.5 degrees, and as we started to talk amongst ourselves over the temperature anomaly “Are you listening?” came from the sitter, and the Spirit Talker App informed us there was more to the history. Here we were introduced to a male called Jack, who gave the surname of Joshua and that he had previously worked at Manston, we believed in a position with some authority. Jack stated that he was hiding here and our questions were linked to the yellow Wessex we were sat in and an indication from the sitter who thought he heard something about missing someone; Did a mission go wrong? Was it your orders? Did your call leave someone abandoned? Did you make a decision to save your crew rather than save the one? Was there a storm?

Credit: SJP

But looks can be deceiving as the Wessex that surrounded us was a repainted Westland Wessex HU.5 that originally served as an anti-submarine warfare and utility helicopter with the 700 and 848 Naval Air Squadrons of the Fleet Air Arm from 1963 to 1968 with the tail number XS482. From Fleet it was transferred to Farnborough and used in de-icing trials until its withdrawal from service in 1985 where it became an instructional airframe before its arrival and transformation at Manston in 1999.

The yellow repainting to represent the instantly recognisable search and rescue Wessex HC.2 of 22 Squadron may have influenced the direction of the Estes Session that was being conducted. A subconscious priming that initially led the group (and me) to understand that the communication received was in connection to a lost mission, a death caused by the pilots utilitarian decision that continues to haunt him. As the helicopter had no record of any such usage it raises several questions. Are spirits attracted to locations and the objects within because they remind them of their past? Do spirits use the perceived connection investigators have to objects to convey their messages? Or is that ghost hunters want to form a story out of the bits and pieces they call evidence and so add 2 and 2 together to make 13?

It has become customary for me to not research locations before I attend. Since I attend many local investigations, I might have a bit of knowledge of where (or sometimes not) a place may be or a potted history, but I was certainly not aware of the vast history of RAF Manston. I do tend to do a bit of research after the fact, if anything to add gravitas to the information uncovered during the events. My search for Jack Joshua with any links to the helicopter or air base gave no results. To add to our body of evidence the sitter informed us that he ‘was shot’ and when asked whether he was shot by his own or by the enemy “or something” came from the headphones. Making a presumptive leap I asked “Jack, did you shoot yourself?” to which I was informed to ‘keep it secret.’ Throughout the questioning the cat ball was illuminating to signify responses that coincided with the words through the sitter.

My research may have not uncovered an individual with this name, but it certainly did provide an interesting story associated with the site. On 24th August 1955, Manston was under the control of the United States Air Force and was the day that Napoleon Green, an airman from Chicago, was due to be questioned the theft of $120 or the equivalent of £40 (how times have changed) from a wallet he was also involved in the enquiries of a girl’s throat being slashed by an airman. The night before Green had announced to his colleagues that he would die tomorrow and would come to the mess hall at 1200 hours and mow them all down. His peers did not take him seriously and laughed about his antics.

Green was indeed correct he would die tomorrow, after starting his duty he armed himself with .30 Carbine and .45 pistol and set off on what the press later described as a rampage. Between the airfield and the beach at Broadstairs he had killed three people, Airman 2nd Class Nelson Gresham, RAF Policeman Corporal Raymond Grayer and Master Sergeant Lawrence Velasquez, by shooting them. A further 9 victims were shot including Airman 2nd Class Quannah Parker, Former RAF Warrant Officer Aubrey Easto, Airman 2nd Class Lester Hunt, Technical Sergeant John Gouveia, Wendy Welton, Ian Yeomans and Anne or Margaret Cockburn.

According to the official records Green had walked into the sea and was located deceased through a self-inflicted gunshot wound at Stone Gap Beach, Broadstairs. Many stories have circulated since suggesting he was shot by the American Military much to the disgust of the British Constabulary – but Green’s final resting place which would include his gravestone has no known location. Maybe Jack was right, there is more to this history.

Concluding the Estes Session, and after gracefully disembarking the aircraft, it was time to explore the hanger in the dark. I recovered my K2 meter from my bag and clicking the button was met with darkness. Doing the only thing I knew how to I kept clicking it in the hope of seeing the flash of illuminating LEDs but was left disappointed. I announced the death of the meter and heard the sound of falling plastic coming from Area 51 – the sound falling dominos make. Feeling hopeful I clicked on my trusty red torch to find that had also died. Reverting to the backup white light I went to give a cursory check of my experiment – but found it appearing as I had left it at the beginning of the night.

There was a distinct feeling of being played with, with first the torch dying in the Wessex and then the demise of the K2 and the red light torch. The sound of falling dominos had drawn me away from the group with nothing noticeable observed when I went to check. On my return I noticed a Rem-Pod had been placed on the table and it was flashing:

. . . . / - -. / - - . - / - - . / - / . - - - / - - / . / . .

The pulsation of the lights appeared to be Morse Code (the above translates to HGQGTJMEI), now I am no expert in this type of communication (or in anything really) so I tried to jot it down. Time was pressing and the end of the first session had been called. As I am noting down the dots and dashes a hand appears over my shoulder to collect the Rem-pod. Due to my grunted protestation the hand quickly retracted but rather than the original single LED flashing now 2 were illuminating. I grabbed my phone and recorded the following video:

In my evidence review I have tried slowing this video down, looking at each individual frame and just watching it to identify the message that the blinking lights contains. I believe the message reads:

. /. ./ - / - - - / . - - / - . / - / . - / - . .

Which translates as EITOWNOEAD. I have run this through codebreaking software which has shone no more light on what the communication is trying to say. More interestingly the use of EI is a USAF anacronym for Engineering & Installation of which an E&I squadron would have been heavily involved in the Cold Warification of the site during American residency. There is a high possibility that this is a coded message requiring a code book to translate, but it is equally probable that a spirit is just toying with this paranormal investigator as it had been with my equipment.

As the groups changed over I remained in the hanger as I wanted to see if a change people resulted in a change in the communication received. This group started with a human pendulum experiment. Three guests stood in the middle of the circle, one as the conduit, the other 2 to make sure she did not fall over the movement for ‘yes’ and ‘no’ locked in. Our conduit was blindfolded and wearing headphones to reduce the environmental influence. It was now time for the group to ask questions.

Silence does not create energy, it absorbs it, consumes it. A hanger is a big space to fill. This group found a spirit identified as Jenny, single and sad. She purported to be linked with RAF Ash, a table from the base originally situated in a subterranean bunker in Marshborough Road, Ash is sat in the corner of the hanger.

This raises the question of attachments, do spirits attach themselves to things, objects over location? Or do they use them like portkeys to apparate to where they want to be, where they can be heard. Is this why museums or locations with collections of objects have more reports of spooky goings on? This will be something we explore in a later blog.

Credit:SJP

With no volunteers I took my place between my two sentries who were to stop me faceplanting the hanger floor. I closed my eyes and tried to block out all of my surroundings. I could hear the mumblings of those around me and my body moving forwards and backwards in response to the questions posed. Suddenly I was overcome with the feeling of absolute sadness, to the point that I felt a tear accumulate in my eye and roll down my cheek. Jenny had been replaced by Anne, who I believe may be Anne Booth.

Little Anne aged 9 years old was travelling with her family, her father Wilfred aged 39, mother Pauline 37 and her 1 year old brother David, in their Morris Minor on 9th April 1958. Their journey was cut short when a T-33 Shooting Star jet overshot the runway colliding with the car travelling on the Ramsgate-Canterbury Road. The plane came to a stop in a cabbage field, the Morris Minor had been dragged 500 metres along the road, its roof missing and windows smashed. The coroners verdict on the death of the Booth family was recorded as ‘traumatic decapitation.’ The pilot 40 year old Captain Herman Hines, aside from an overnight stay in hospital for observation was physically unharmed.

Stepping away from my role as pendulum, the mood of the group was sombre and it appeared that it was not only me who had felt the wave of intense sadness during the session. Automatic writing using a pen held in a planchette was suggested as the next experiment and as the equipment was set up it was explained that, much like the spirit board, the automatic writing planchette could be manipulated by spirit to draw or write a message.

Credit: SJP

I suggested that due to the likelihood of this experiment attracting some mischievous male energies I would not be surprised if we had some penises drawn through this technique. A muted chuckle rolled around the group, who were soon placing their fingers on the plastic planchette and calling out. As you can see form the image below, this contact was phallus free.

Credit: SJP

An attempt at table tipping followed but aside from the feeling of bubbling from the surface there was not much to report on. A break was called, a black coffee in the Naafi was definitely needed after the back to back sessions in the cold hanger.

As I waited for the queue for hot liquid refreshment to abate, I decided to have a stocktake on what of my equipment was still working, for the final session of the night. K2 – deceased, Red torch – gone but revived with a battery change, Voice Recorder – on?

Credit: SJP

I noticed the red recording light illuminating the front pocket of my bag. On retrieving the silver box I noted firstly that it had been recording for nearly 4 hours and secondly how impossible it was that this could have been accidentally turned on and then set to record. The device has a locking switch (which was set in the locked position when loaded in a self-contained pocket of my bag before I set off that evening) It then requires the a button to be slid and held to turn the device on. In order to record a second button then needs to be pressed to activate.

I stopped it recording and then had several realisations; firstly illation that something had made my equipment work on its own rather than draining the battery, secondly 4 hours of listening back was going to take some time (well 4 hours at least) and lastly was that I needed a pee between the two sessions so would have definitely recorded that event.

Coffee consumed and bag repacked it was back to the hanger for the final session of the night. As with the first group the last divided in two, with half boarding the Wessex and my half setting up laser grids, cat balls and motion detectors throughout the hanger. As the sound from the Wessex settled into dulled whispers we started to call out, receiving the illuminating of a cat ball at the far end of the hanger (close to the locked off experiment). Finding the noise from inside the helicopter intrusive to our own efforts we moved further away, thanking the spirits for providing us with the continued light show (which continued throughout this session).

Opening a spirit board – we received the square route of bugger all, so decided to hold our own Estes Session under the tail of a Gloster Meteor. As soon as the sitter was comfortable “Need Help!” came from the gloom. After asking who needed help and how could they be helped to only be met with silence I changed the topic to what we had experienced earlier in the session:

“Are you the one playing with the cat ball?”

“Yes”

“Did you work here?”

“No”

“Are you playing with something round here?”

“Yes”

“Can you touch the sitter?”

In the dark the only indication of the location of the sitter is the rainbow scrolling headphones appended to each ear. On asking this final question an obvious jerk of the head was witness, couple with the sitter reporting that he had felt he was being touched to the head and the hands.

As time was called and the sitter returned, he reported that that there was a very young female voice that was asking for help. This young voice was constantly being interrupted by a dominant male voice and was a phenomenon that had been reported by all the groups attempting the Estes technique. Could it be that Anne Booth had finally discovered a way of communicating, a voice that was to be denied in post war life as it is to be in death? Did she need help in moving on? Or was she content to play with the gizmos bought onto her space every weekend by the groups talking to themselves – maybe a return visit is needed to answer these questions.

As the hanger lights came on signalling the end of the evening like the end of a school disco I returned to area 51 to recover the experiment. Initially I could not notice any discernible movement of the dominos and a review of the trail cam had not recorded anything either. (there is a possible slight movement after photo reviews but memo to self I need to get better at before and after photos.) 

Credit: SJP

But what evidence I did get from this was completely unintentional and it came from about 34 minutes into my accidental audio recording as you can hear below, and maybe that was why there was no movement:

After arriving back in the Naafi I was informed that one of the fans on the ceiling had turned itself on and the team were struggling to turn it back off, but this was not to be the final spooky phenomenon. This was to come the morning after, when Mrs J armed with a cup of coffee and my K2 woke me with the question “Is this supposed to be on?”

Thankfully my K2 was to live for another investigation, so stay tuned for my next foray into the Paranormal.