Night Shift: Afghanistan
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Welcome to the smoke pit. In the military, a smoke pit is obviously where troops go to feed their nicotine addictions. But also, it's a place to swap stories. Funny, tragic, and most certainly, bizarre. The kinds of stories that aren't usually welcome in a professional work environment, where soldiers are meant to remain serious and focused on their work. The telling of such unbelievable stories is thus relegated to the smoke pit.

In this episode, we will be hearing from three former service members. Chris, a veteran of the Canadian Army. A U.S. soldier who we will refer to by his YouTube handle, Sector SOS. And Uriah, a U.S. Marine. I'm Luke LaManna, and this is Wartime Stories. My name is Chris. I'm ex-Canadian Army. This happened in Afghanistan, Operation Athena, the Canadian contingent to ISAF.

It was during winter, late 2000s, Kandahar Province. Our company group, comprised of mechanized inventory mounted in LAV-3s and some Leopard tanks, Engineers Combat Service support, we deployed for a four or five day operation to sweep some villages along the Argandab River. On the first night, we halted in the middle of the riverbed, which was dry at this time of the year.

It's about a half a kilometer wide, so if you park in the middle of it, you'd get a clear view for a couple hundred meters on either side, making it impossible for any bad guys to sneak up on you in the night.

For these kinds of overnight halts, we'd stop in a big circle with the fighting vehicles, tanks and LAV-3s around the perimeter facing out while the support vehicles parked in the middle. The vehicles on the perimeter would take turns being up, providing security for their part of the ring. Picture 20 vehicles in a circle with the ones at 12, 3, 6 and 9 o'clock being up, meaning their crews are awake, slewing their turrets, scanning their thermal imagers and covering their sectors.

Then after an hour, the next vehicle to the right of each of those takes over and relieves the previous vehicle and so forth throughout the night. You do this of course so that everyone can get some sleep, but also provide constant security against enemy attacks. After we formed our perimeter, got the dismounts out, and started settling in for the night, the shift schedule came over the radio, informing us that we had the second shift scheduled to start in an hour, and another one or two shifts later in the night.

The back of one of these LAVs is basically a big open compartment with benches on either side that the infantry dismount sits on. But the infantry guys are now sleeping in a shallow ditch behind the LAV, so the gunner and the crew commander, which is me, got to sleep inside on those benches. Better than sleeping in the dirt, I suppose. The driver sleeps in his station up front.

Since we had to be up in an hour, for security watch anyway, the gunner, driver and I decided to just lay awake in our sleeping bags reading, watching movies and playing PSP respectively until it was time for our shift. About a half an hour before our shift started, we heard and felt the distinct sounds and movements of someone climbing up onto the LAV. It's a heavy vehicle but you still know when someone's climbing onto it. And in that scenario, it probably means someone's coming to wake you up and make you do something.

So the gunner and I, laying across from each other, we look at each other and we sit up, give a collective sigh, bracing for one of the hatches above our heads to pop open and to start being told what to do by some sergeant. But nothing happened. It just went quiet. I was confused. We would have heard and felt if they had climbed or jumped off the LAV. I stood up and opened the hatch above the bench so I could pop my head out and see what was going on. There was nobody on top of the LAV that I could see.

But the LAV has a big turret and I figured maybe whoever it was went to the driver's hatch up front and was talking to him. So I climbed right out of my hatch, got up on top of the LAV, then climbed on top of the turret to look towards the driver's hatch. And there was still nobody in sight and nowhere for anyone to hide.

Now I'm really perplexed. From on top of the turret, I can see all the ground between me and the flanking vehicles. I can see where the troops are sleeping. I can see the support vehicles in the center of the ring, and I have a clear view of the riverbed for hundreds of meters. There isn't a single soul moving around anywhere. And at this point, I go from perplexed to concerned. We are in hostile territory after all, and having unknown persons crawling on your LAV in the dead of night is a bad thing.

I get back in and explain the situation to the other two guys and instruct them to lock all the hatches from the inside since we apparently can't account for who or what is crawling on our LAB. From there we just waited for our shift to start, performed it as usual and went back to bed. We heard no other mysterious people or things crawling on top of the LAB. But the next day our driver told us something crazy.

That next morning, our company group moved to the first village we were sweeping, so we dismounted our infantry and then provided overwatch with our turret. As soon as things quieted down on the radio, the driver got on the intercom and told us something else happened later that night. He said that at some point between shifts, he decided he couldn't sleep and started watching movies on his laptop. As he was zoning out, all of a sudden, he felt a hand on the back of his head.

that brushed forward over the top, running fingers through his hair. He whipped his head around expecting to see one of us had crawled past the turret to mess with him, but nobody was there. The gunner and I did not believe him at first. We thought maybe he was trying to scare us by adding to the weird experience we had earlier that night. But after a while, it became clear he was being dead serious. He was genuinely creeped out.

In the days that followed, we became convinced that something supernatural was going on with that LAV. We debated trying to investigate whether any of the previous occupants of that LAV had been killed. These vehicles stay in Afghanistan for the entire occupation and they're handed from outgoing troops to incoming troops when the tour rotations happen. We decided, however, that we probably just didn't want to know and were better off just ignoring it.

Nothing else happened for the rest of the tour, either in that LAB or anywhere else in our company, at least that I know of. The following story is one shared by an American soldier who goes by the handle SectorSOS. I served in Afghanistan, Kunar Province, back in 2010-2011. This one particular incident happened during one of my platoon's observation post guard duty rotations.

One night, me and two other soldiers were doing our routine surveillance of a nearby road, just down the hill from our outpost. At one point that night, we saw a young kid, a shepherd, walking four goats up the road. All three of us saw him, until I took off my goggles and realized that this kid had disappeared. Whoever was walking the goats was only visible through our NVGs. The night was pretty clear, and although it was dark, you could still easily see the silhouettes of the goats,

but there was nobody else. We could clearly see him with the goats through our goggles, but as soon as we would take the goggles off, he would vanish. Goats were there, but that's it. No person. But with the goggles, he was clearly visible. Until this day, none of us who witnessed it could explain what it was, or what we saw that night. All three of us saw the same thing. We did actually report the incident. It was sort of brushed off by our media commanders and platoon leadership.

But the story spread, like wildfire, and went up the chain of command, all the way to our CSM. And a week later, all three of us were coincidentally chosen for a random urinalysis, a drug test. Coincidence? Thankfully, we had zero tolerance for drug use and none of us tested positive for anything. But yeah, it was definitely the weirdest thing I have ever encountered. You could possibly write it off that I was seeing things from being tired,

but I wasn't the only one that saw it. All three of us did. We were watching it for over 20 or so minutes until it disappeared from our point of view. There, in Peck Valley, it was also rumored that during the patrols, because of the mountains and steep cliffs, some soldiers reported that the wind against the rocks sounds as if someone is whispering. I personally never heard that, but I can definitely vouch for what me and those other two soldiers saw that night during our guard duty.

There is no doubt in my mind, it was something out of the supernatural. I still get goosebumps just talking about it. This final story was shared by Uriah Steffenhagen, a US Marine. Just to give you some background, I was deployed to Afghanistan with the US Marine Corps back in 2011, when I was 20 years old. This event took place on Camp Dwyer, which is located in Helmand Province.

At this particular time, I believe it was about October or November, I was on a team that would do base defense on guard posts along the base perimeter, with each post having heavy machine guns mounted. I worked a night shift. All the guard posts had a radio channel that we used for non-official radio traffic. Things like communicating possible security threats that didn't need to go to the command operations center for reporting, general conversations to stay awake, and so on.

Anyway, I was on post Delta and one of the other Marines needed to be taken off of post hotel. The post names are the letters of the military phonetic alphabet. Something worth noting about post hotel is that it's located within the Afghan National Army compound that was attached to our base.

The post was on the edge off the HESCO barrier, which is a fabric-type bucket with a wire frame that got filled with rock and dirt for protection against enemy fire and mortars. We lined them up and stacked them to create walls. This is important to note because one or two months before I arrived to Afghanistan in September of that year,

At the base of Post Hotel, a rather tall tower, an ANA pickup truck had rolled and crashed into the HESCO barrier about 30 feet to the left of Post Hotel. Both ANA soldiers in the truck died in that crash. Where the truck had crashed, it had hit the HESCO wall and left a rip and some damage to the wall that was never repaired. Anyway, so one of the Marines got taken off of Post Hotel and I got put up there to take his place for a few days.

I always heard stories about footsteps on the metal stairwell, walking up with no one there and shadows moving across the doorway, but I didn't pay much attention to it as I was more concerned with Taliban attacks and carrying out my required duties. There were always two Marines on each post, but I cannot remember who my partner was that first night on post hotel. It was a normal night and we were all chatting on our side radio channel about whatever we could think of.

I was scanning into the darkness, looking for anything that would catch my eye. I happened to look to my left and see the damage to the HESCO barrier from the truck crash, but noticed something different. I focus on it and I see two shadows, side by side, of two people. The ANA had their own secured entry gate into their compound that had bright floodlights about 200 meters behind my guard tower. They also had living quarters around our tower.

I first assumed that I was seeing a shadow cast from their gate, or others standing around, but realized it was so late at night and the shadows were extremely clear and the size of an average-sized man. If the shadows were from someone that far away, they should have been larger and not nearly as defined as these shadows were. And these shadows were also completely still. I called my partner over to look at these things and he found it strange as well.

Now, we're thinking there may be a security threat that we need to deal with inside the base. So I start scanning around with my M16 mounted flashlight. My partner shined his flashlight on the shadows directly, and they didn't disappear, as a shadow should have. The shadows were still there, even with direct light shined on them, but still resembled shadows. Now our heightened sense of alert changed to absolute confusion. As we sat there staring...

The two shadows started drifting to the left into a larger shadow that was cast from nearby ANA military vehicles. They were not moving as if a person was walking, but sort of gliding in a smooth and consistent manner. Still assuming we had a security threat, my partner went and cleared the area. He came back up the tower and said nothing is there and things seem to appear normal.

So we tried to brush it off as being tricks of the night and our eyes being tired. But a few minutes later, we saw the shadows again. And they slowly drifted back again in the same exact way as previously. We sat around talking about it for a few minutes before I mentioned it to the other Marines on the other guard posts on our side channel. I told them what had happened. I mentioned that it occurred about 15 minutes ago. One Marine, I can't remember who it was, was a devout Catholic.

He asked me in a concerned voice, You said this happened about 15 minutes ago? I told him yes. Look at your watch. I looked down at my watch and it was exactly 3.15 a.m. Having always been a believer in ghosts and paranormal entities, my heart began pounding as I started to think that I could have just witnessed a ghost firsthand at 3 a.m. Exciting yet terrifying at the same time.

My partner and I saw the same shadows reappear a few more times until 4 a.m. We talked about it and all sort of concluded that it was the ghosts of the two ANA soldiers that died there months back. The next night, I told my partner in my previous post, Post Delta, that he needed to see these shadows if they appeared again because he thought we were crazy. So he agreed to switch with my current partner to come into Post Hotel with me on the second night. His last name is Williams.

So that night Williams and I do our changeover with the shift being relieved. The night goes quietly with nothing occurring until 3:00 AM. The same shadows appeared and drifted back to a larger shadow as they did the night prior. Williams thought it was strange, but didn't find it particularly intriguing. So he said he was going to take a nap and I told him I would stay up and keep watch. He laid down and a few minutes goes by and just before he falls asleep,

I'm standing behind one of our machine guns and staring out into the dark desert. And all of a sudden, we hear a loud sound, as if someone had hit one of the metal beams supporting the guard post with a pipe or a heavy stick. We go into full alert, and Williams grabs his rifle and heads down the tower to search for anyone nearby. But he comes back up to report that nobody was found.

We figured it could be the tower settling or something came loose trying to rationalize the situation. He laid back down and just before he fell asleep, the same thing occurred. Now we are both staring at each other wondering what the hell is making this sound. We told the other Marines on our radio side channel who were mostly becoming alarmed at hearing this noise coming from our guard tower.

About that time I realized we needed new batteries, so I radioed up our corporal to come bring us new radio batteries. He arrived and began walking up the stairs. Williams peered over the steps and watched the corporal walk up. And when he got upstairs, Williams asked him if the sergeant was with him too. The corporal said that it was just him, and that the sergeant was back at the command operations center. Williams, who happens to be a man with a rather dark complexion,

He suddenly turned a much lighter skin color and stumbled back to sit down. We asked if he was okay, and he said that he had seen someone walking up the stairs right behind the corporal. We were all terrified, and Williams certainly believed us at that point because he saw something that was so real but unexplainable, but it didn't end there.

I refused to go back to Post Hotel the next night and I was put back on Post Delta. I didn't observe anything else after that. A few weeks goes by and nothing strange has occurred. A Marine named Kyle, who I'm still friends with, was on Post Bravo. After the quiet few weeks, he reported to us that he was sitting on the back steps of his post taking a break. He said that he had lit a cigarette and was just looking around.

and he noticed some dust get kicked up on the dirt berm underneath some barbed wire fencing. At first, Kyle said that he thought it was from a desert jackal because we had those dogs howling in the night and scrounging for food near the base. Normally, it wasn't anything strange. But then he said that the dust cloud rolled down the berm and got larger, and finally, it took up the shape of a person walking.

He continued to explain that he could see definite legs walking and arms swinging, and the dust cloud shaped into a person-like figure. He said that it just dissipated after it had walked across the dirt road. Aside from that, we had some other strange occurrences. Banging noises on our portable toilets, mounted machine guns pivoting on their stands without anybody touching them, so on, all without explanation.

I remember a conversation with another Marine about these strange happenings. We talked about how Afghanistan has been plagued with warfare and violence for thousands of years, from Alexander the Great to the Soviet Union to now the Taliban in the United States. So much bloodshed and killing had happened there. We figured it must not be a far-fetched idea that souls are aimlessly wandering in that vast desert with nowhere to go or to rest.

and i was talking to some afghan interpreters that the marine corps contracted for missions they said that they had seen and heard things that are not there they spoke of battlefields from when the soviet union invaded the country and some nights you can still hear the screaming and fighting despite the battles having been fought more than 40 years ago another interpreter told us about a friend of his father's that had died while fighting the russians and one night he was apparently seen after his death walking down the road in kabul

and into his home and even kissing his daughter on the forehead before disappearing. He said it was a very real experience. And this man was a senior interpreter that I trusted. And I wish I could say I left all this behind in Afghanistan. But fast forward when I returned to the US, I'm at my home on base where I was stationed. I lived with my wife and two dogs. After I returned to the US, something strange happened quite often.

I would wake up in the morning and find a set of my wife's shoes crossed over, making the shape of a T or cross directly under the doorframe to our bedroom. At first, I thought it was from my dogs until it happened countless times for a few weeks. I was certain something must have followed me home from Afghanistan. I never felt completely alone either. It felt like something was with me, behind me.

in the dark with me. It honestly scared the hell out of me. I had to turn on the lights as I entered rooms and refused to walk in the dark. For years after leaving Afghanistan, I was terrified to be awake between 3 a.m. and 4 a.m. because I didn't know what could happen or if I would see something else. I have many other stories and have always been a firm believer in the possibilities of the unknown. I don't know what's out there, but I believe there is something that we cannot wrap our human brains around yet.

But I do believe that we are not alone and I have personally experienced it. In the last few years, I've been okay though. I have since left active duty and am now a police officer. But I will say about my time in the military and even as a police officer now, no situation has ever scared me more than those strange, unexplained occurrences that happened when I was in Afghanistan on the night shift.

Wartime Stories is created and hosted by me, Luke LaManna. Executive produced by Mr. Ballin, Nick Witters, and Zach Levitt. Written by Jake Howard and myself. Audio editing and sound design by me, Cole Lacascio, and Whit Lacascio. Additional editing by Davin Intag and Jordan Stidham. Research by me, Jake Howard, Evan Beamer, and Camille Callahan. Mixed and mastered by Brendan Cain.

Production supervision by Jeremy Bone. Production coordination by Avery Siegel. Additional production support by Brooklyn Gooden. Artwork by Jessica Clarkson-Kiner, Robin Vane, and Picotta. If you'd like to get in touch or share your own story, you can email me at info at wartimestories.com. Thank you so much for listening to Wartime Stories.