I don’t believe in ghosts, etc, there is usually an explanation. However, this will always make me wonder WTF…
2019, October. Mate and I went to The Somme, a trip we did several times and one I made a number of consecutive summers with the wife, on account of an interest in WWI. This summer we were there again. Same B&B, located right at the epicentre of the British Sector of the Wester Front. In fact, trench maps from the period show the gates to the place were the site of a German machine gun nest, placed to afford enfilade fire across Mash Valley, an absolute killing field, especially on that fateful July 1st, 1916. We know the place, the area, lots about it, etc.
One night, in 2019, we were in the communal social area and were absolutely leathered on great wine. It was just us two and the owner, his wife was away. They had closed the business for a period but as we are friends, they opened up for us. Mate literally crawled upstairs to his room, I fell into mine and slept like a log. Morning comes and I get up. I put on my trousers and notice immediately that both pockets are rammed with small sugar packets, the sort you get in refreshment trays in hotel rooms. There were maybe 50 in each pocket. Hilarious, I thought, what was the point of that ‘prank’? So, I go to breakfast and my mate comes down. I ask about the sugar, and it is clear, very clear, that he doesn’t know what the fuck I am on about. So, it was the owner? I tell him I found the sugar and again it is very clear he is clueless as to what I am on about. Besides, it would be really odd for the owner to enter the room of a paying guest just to shove sugar into his trouser pockets, I mean, really odd. As for the sugar…there are 2 packets in each room. I must have done it myself in a sleepwalking episode, then? The supply box is locked away in a pantry along with the other consumables the B&B uses and there is no access for sleepwalking guests.
I have no explanation. I have been several times since and we always discuss it. Truly odd. The owners do say that they have an annual recurrence of a tobacco smell inside the house. It is a non-smoking place, like anywhere else.
The Somme is odd. On one occasion, we were in a spot that we know was in no-man’s land in 1916, just outside Beaumont-Hamel and at the site of the British Military Cemetery there. The wife was stood taking in the view and picking a few local poppies when she felt an incredibly cold wind, a real icy blast. I was ten yards away and felt nothing, just the relentless baking heat. It was at least 30 degrees, in July. She was spooked. One time, we were walking along a lane towards Flatiron Cross Cemetery, near Bazentin, adjacent to Mametz Wood, a very famous location. I just stopped and said, ‘I can’t walk down there’, that is, any further along the track. I was not moving, 100%. The track was curving to the right and I was not going round that corner, not for a gold clock. We turned back and I was a bit confused, to be honest. I haven’t gone back there.
I don’t believe in ghosts…just saying.
So as you know, that area was a site where 1.2 million were lost. There are more than half a million dead Germans...in the ground. They have 1 cemetery, in Fricourt...the spoils of war go to the victors, and all that, which includes the ability to collect and bury their dead, marking the burials in cemeteries. In essence, the Somme area, today returned to agriculture, is one great big Charnel House. A lot of bad things happened there...a lot.