The Lola

If you've ever talked to someone who served in the military, then you know that we all have a story or 50 to tell. You will also know that military members can relate to just about every story told to us in some way or another, either from personal experience, or by proxy (a friend's, cousin's, brother's, in-law's story). Throughout the military, there are a lot of different stories dealing with ghosts and the paranormal, this is mine:

I was stationed at an Air Force base in Nevada from early 2001-mid 2004. The base was known for a lot of different things, but one of the claims to fame that I was always intrigued by were the underground tunnels that used to be there. The tunnels served as a means to get "live ordinance" (bombs, rockets, ammunition for aircraft) to the jets discretely during wartime.

I'm not sure when, but long before I arrived, the tunnel access points were cemented over. The three half bunkers still stood at three different points of the LOLA (Live Ordinance Loading Area), left, right and center. The bunkers were covered in a natural camouflage of desert sand and plant life. They weren't so steep that you couldn't walk over the top of them. In fact, we did that from time to time to play a prank or two on whoever decided to park on the inside. I call these half bunkers because they weren't totally enclosed; basically, there wasn't a front wall. The bunkers were wide enough to fit two full size pick-up trucks and maybe a full size sedan inside, just a tad on the tight squeeze side of things.

I had always been told the tragic story of the woman who committed suicide in the center bunker. She had just returned from Iraq during the first Operation Desert Storm to find that her husband had been having an affair and was filing for a divorce and sole custody of their children. No one knows the details, but she was found one morning in her truck, parked in the center bunker, her rifle on "burst". The center bunker is where I had my experience, and gained my story to tell.

I was posted at the LOLA one night, and I remember being upset by it because there wasn't anything to guard there, so I didn't see the point. The bunkers were empty, no aircraft on the flightline, just my partner, myself and the coyotes that roamed around and begged us for food, which we would always give if we had any. My partner was driving and decided to back into the center bunker. We were both smokers at the time, so that meant that a half carton was gone by the end of our 12 hour shift under normal circumstances.

We were sitting in the bed of the truck telling jokes and giving each other "what if" scenarios, which always got ridiculously humorous, outlandish responses. We were just coming off of our laughter when I heard what sounded like soft, creeping footsteps. Thinking that the area supervisor was trying to sneak up on us, I crept slowly out of the bunker and up the side to find nothing around the bunker, no sign of a vehicle anywhere, or any person. I called for my night vision and my partner tossed it up to me, I took a look around and found nothing. I shrugged it off as my mind playing tricks on me and went back to the truck.

Not 5 minutes later, I heard the same soft footsteps, but this time they sounded like they were in the bunker. My partner was hearing them now too and tried to play it off as the coyotes coming to beg. I told him that, no, these were too slow to be coyote steps. Then they got a little louder, sounding as if someone were grinding their heel into the grit of the cement floor as they stepped. It seemed like they may have been circling the truck. My partner got nervous and decided he wanted to leave. Admittedly, I wasn't too comfortable either, so I obliged and got in. He went to start the truck, but it wouldn't start. I thought for sure he had left the headlights on, but he checked and the knob was off. The sounds of footsteps got louder, then nothing, dead silence. The truck roared to life, and for me that is when the strangest things happened. When the truck started, the headlights, windshield wipers and hazard lights were all on, but none of the switches or knobs were in the "on" position. The radio was not on the station that we were listening to, it was on a dead station, all static and my, for lack of a better term and to not be confusing, walkie-talkie squelched like it did when I switched to a dead frequency, but the knob was on the normal one to speak to the dispatch desk.

Now, I know what you're thinking: When I was on top of the bunker looking around, my partner turned these things on... Not true. I could see that the knobs were off. Besides that, to change the station, he would have had to at least turn the power to the truck on and this particular truck made a loud buzz for about two seconds when the power was turned on, so I would have heard that.

As we drove out of the bunker, I remember seeing a light whisp of what could be misconstrued as smoke, exhaust or dust, but it was just in front of the truck, right in the center.

For the rest of the time I was stationed there, my partner would never accept being posted at the LOLA. He always found someone to trade with, and he never gave the reason why. I told the story to a couple of closer friends, who feigned believing, but I could tell they were skeptical.

About 4 months before I discharged, one of the skeptics had an experience at the LOLA. He would only tell his story to a point, the trail off saying, "I don't want to talk about the rest". I found out a couple of years ago why. Apparently he saw a figure in front of his vehicle, and all he would say is that her face was covered in blood, he never gave any further description.

Say what you will about this story, but I know what I experienced. I also know that my partner was scared of the LOLA, and that my friend the skeptic also refused to be posted at the LOLA.