u/KGRolexx

First of all, thank you very much for the positive comments and for the private messages. I never would have thought that my grandfather’s ghost stories would have sparked so much interest.

This is another story from his life, and it happened some years later.

By that time, my grandfather was already married. He had left the family farm and moved to a larger town for work. He had also bought a motorcycle, which allowed him to visit his family on the farm from time to time.

Near the farm there was a forest. This forest had always felt strange to people from the area. Even when I was a child, long after these events, we hated passing it. There was a stretch of dirt road that ran alongside it, and whenever we had to go past that place, we would usually hurry or even run because it felt so uncomfortable. (I also had a paranormal experience there as a child; if anyone’s interested, I’ll share it. It’s not all that spectacular, though.)

The forest also has a dark history.

The story known in the area is that during World War II, Soviet soldiers came across a scattered group of German soldiers there while moving west toward Berlin. According to the local story, the Germans were executed in or near that forest. As far as I know, there were never any official excavations or proper graves. There is only a simple cross hanging on a tree. No names, no dates. Just a cross. I’ve never seen the cross myself, so I rang my mum yesterday specifically to ask her about it, and I can assure you, it’s there. She also said that the local vicar had installed it shortly after the war.

Now to my grandfather’s experience.

One weekend, he had ridden back to the farm for some kind of celebration. I do not know if it was a birthday, an anniversary, or another village gathering, but it was one of those rural parties where people drank, danced, and celebrated.

Late at night, my grandfather got on his motorcycle to ride back to the farm. He had been drinking, but he knew the road very well. (Back then, nobody cared about drink-driving in the countryside. ) ;)

At one point, the gravel road passed along the edge of that forest.

As he was riding there in the dark, he suddenly saw a figure standing by the side of the road.

He described it as a person, but something about it was very wrong.

The figure was standing completely still. Very straight, stiff, and rigid. The arms were pressed tightly against the sides of the body, not hanging naturally. The head was lowered, almost as if the chin was touching the chest. It looked like the figure was staring down at the ground.

My grandfather said the coat was very clear. It was a dark, heavy wool coat, and from the way he described it, it sounded almost like an old military winter coat. (Winter 1944/45 ?)

But the face was not clear at all.

He said he could not recognize any facial features. The head was lowered, and the face looked pale, milky, and indistinct. Almost blank. He could tell that the figure was looking down, but he could not see eyes, a mouth, or any expression.

The feet were strange too. He could see the legs, but the feet were barely visible, almost as if they faded near the ground.

The figure did not move. It just stood there at the edge of the forest.

My grandfather said he became instantly sober. He accelerated the motorcycle and got away from there as fast as he could.

He never forgot that figure. My mother also knew the story and told me these details

I am not saying this proves anything. He had been drinking, it was dark, light on the motorbike was weak, he was riding past a forest with a bad reputation, and maybe it was a trick of light, shadow, or fear.

But what always stayed with me is how specific his description was: the rigid posture, the arms pressed tightly to the body, the lowered head, the dark coat, the unclear face, and the strange feet.

Because of the history of that forest, I have always wondered if what he saw was somehow connected to the men who were supposedly killed there during the war.

This is a story my grandfather told me from when he was young. It happened in Poland, sometime in the 1960s or 1970s.

His family lived on a farm in the middle of nowhere. To get there, you had to leave the main road, drive a few kilometers on a smaller road, then turn again and continue for several more kilometers on a dirt road through fields. For that time, especially under communism, his family had quite a lot of land to work.

About 200 meters away from their house was the farm of their closest neighbors. Because the area was so remote, the two families had a very warm and friendly relationship. Everyone knew each other, people visited often, and they would regularly meet while working in the fields.

I do not know the exact time of year, but it was during harvest season, because my grandfather was working a lot on the fields back then. At that time, hardly anyone had a tractor or proper means of transport, but somewhere in the village there was a Soviet van, a “Bukhanka”. Sometimes the driver would give my grandfather a ride to the village or back from the fields.

One evening, my grandfather was dropped off near the farms. I do not know if he had been in the village or if someone had picked him up from the fields. When he got out of the van, he saw his neighbor standing by the gate, waving at him.

It was already evening, and my grandfather thought the neighbor wanted him to come over for a drink, a cigarette, or just to talk for a while. That was not unusual between the two households.

So my grandfather started walking toward the gate.

But when he got closer, he could not see anyone there anymore. He thought maybe the neighbor had gone into the garden or was waiting for him in the courtyard. When he arrived, he looked around, but there was nobody.

Then he noticed a body lying near the gate.

It was his neighbor.

At first, my grandfather thought maybe he had collapsed or suddenly felt ill. After all, he had just seen him standing there and waving only moments before.

But when he tried to move the body, he immediately felt how cold it was. He realized the man had already been dead for some time.

There was nobody in the house, and there was no phone nearby, so my grandfather had to call for help. Eventually, when medical help arrived, they confirmed that the neighbor was dead. As far as I know, they assumed it had been a heart attack.

The strangest part is that my grandfather was absolutely sure he had seen the neighbor standing at the gate, waving at him.

But by the time he reached him, the man was already dead and cold.

My grandad died in 1999, so unfortunately I can’t ask him for the details anymore.

He had some interesting stories that I remember well, so if anyone's interested, I can share them here.