; Phantoms and Monsters: Pulse of the Paranormal

Monday, September 08, 2014

Red Eyed Creatures

By Brian D. Birch - I am a 'seventy-five' year old, who not only has had close encounters with UFO's but I came 'face to face' with two of the 'occupants' when I was aged 'nineteen'. Another 'nut case' many might remark (if not to my face rest assured) I have after all no witness to that encounter that took place here in the UK as my brother Dennis departed these shores to live in Australia in 1969. He would however attest to that which took place ten years earlier on the first Sunday of January 1959 because he shared that terrifying encounter with me. My family members are fully aware of what my brother Den and I experienced that traumatic early morning hour. Because I have reiterated that account of that 'mind blowing' experience countless times since. It happened at approximately 0200hrs when Den and I were en-route home along the A3 route from Portsmouth, on Dennis's 125cc BSA Bantam motorcycle. He had taken our younger brother, Rob back to his Royal Marine Barracks near Portsmouth. Both Rob and I were serving in the Royal Marines and our 'two weeks' Christmas leave had 'overlapped' one another's by one week (his leave commencing one week prior to mine). I had taken Rob's 'railway warrant' - which I was entitled to as a fellow Royal Marine - to meet both brothers at 'Portsmouth and Southsea' railway station, Dennis having taken Rob there on the pillion of his motorbike. My intention was to say 'goodbye' to Rob at the station and then to return home with Dennis. I had little else to do and I welcomed the ride and the company. I remember that neither brother was at the station when I arrived there and I had to wait some time before Den turned up. His motorbike had incurred a 'front tyre' puncture although I have a feeling that I was late arriving at Portsmouth and Southsea railway station through some delay or other. When I at last met up with Den he told me that Rob had continued onward to his barracks as he had to be there by 'three minutes to midnight'. Thus, I mounted the pillion of Den's motorbike well after midnight and very soon we left Portsmouth far behind. I remember that it was bitter cold and I clung behind my brother's body to shield myself from that bitter cold air. I wore only a light, 'blue' summer jacket and light 'fawn' summer trousers. Aside from my uniform I possessed few civilian clothes.

Thus we rode along the A3. I was silent, alone with thoughts of my own return to my RM barracks a week later. Conversing was out of the question. Even shouting loudly was ineffective in the slipstream as we sped along. The whole route was bereft of traffic and eventually we found ourselves riding around the perimeter of the 'Devil's Punchbowl' at Hindhead. At one point, as we were almost about to leave the the 'Bowl behind, so Den suddenly steered the motorbike onto the grass and the engine cut. "Problem?" Dennis assured me there wasn't a problem but that it was 'a good spot to take a breather and to spend a penny!' So we stood there on the swathe of grass overlooking the 'deep bowl-shaped' valley stretching away before us. The sounds of the wind and of the motorbike engine took several minutes to disperse from our ears and it was good to get some respite from that bitter cold wind. Then, as the 'ghost' sound of wind and engine dispersed, so we noticed a strange sound emanating from down in the Punchbowl itself. A sound impossible to describe except maybe that it was almost 'musical' to the ears 'like the asdic of a submarine and yet at the same time really nothing like it'. We had never heard such a weird sound before and there was nothing with which to otherwise compare it. Puzzled and exceedingly curious we elected to make our way down into the 'Punchbowl' to discover the source of that mysterious sound.

There was an initial very steep slope of maybe 'thirty feet' or so that we were obliged to descend on our 'backsides'. Then, with Den leading the way we were able to continue on downwards along a barely discernible but more gently descending track. How long we were making our way steadily deeper, I don't know but we were quite a long way down there and to me the weird 'musical sound' was becoming ever more mysterious and much louder as we came closer to its 'source'. Whats more, as we drew closer to that 'source' I developed a strong sense of 'unease' that persisted as we proceeded. Soon afterwards Den stopped abruptly and turned to me to express that he had 'a bad feeling' and added "I think we should turn back!" Looking back in the direction of whence we had come I could see that it we had in fact travelled an uncomfortable distance away and in hushed tones I readily agreed with my brother that maybe we should indeed turn back. Literally at that precise moment, before we had even turned around, there came a sudden momentarily silence as that weird sound abruptly ceased. What occurred next is equally difficult to describe. There was a sound, almost like that of 'displaced air' I can explain it no better than that. Then, this 'sound' rose vertically into the air, very close to where we stood. We both dropped to the ground instinctively in an effort to silhouette the 'object' against that brilliant backdrop of stars but we saw nothing even though we were able to 'follow' the path of travel by the strange 'sound' it was emitting. It appeared to travel somehow away to our 'right' and then 'swooped' back around to head back towards us.

The terrific 'crash' that ensued as it struck the ground was deafening and ought to have been heard as far away as Guildford, my thoughts at that time! It had me comparing it to that of a large airliner 'crash landing'. There then followed the distinct loud sound of scrub being 'flattened' in its path as it seemed to 'skid' along under the inertia of its descent and then to finally come to a stop some little distance, maybe 'twenty to thirty feet' in front of us. I clearly have, etched into my mind, a distinct memory of the noise of thin branches or scrub scraping along an obviously 'metallic' fuselage, followed by the final 'scraping' sound as that branch broke free. A 'flying object' of some sort had come to a halt. I stood staring at the bushes from where the sound of that 'crash landing' had come. I (we) had seen 'nothing' and yet this 'flying object' by the very sound it made as it hit the ground indicated a large, exceedingly heavy if 'invisible' craft and in my head the word UFO was at the forefront. Then, almost immediately my attention was drawn to 'something' approaching us from the direction that the UFO had 'landed'. I stared ahead, my mind struggling to believe what was actually taking place. Then 'it' emerged. I will describe what we saw, as best to my memory as possible for I was overcome by a feeling of sheer terror. This figure stood some 'eight to ten feet' tall. It appeared to 'glide' rather than to walk. It also appeared to be floating some 'two feet' or so off the ground. It stopped in front of me, so close that I could have touched it. I was literally paralysed with fear, an adrenalin rush so great that it had an opposite effect and I stood there transfixed, unable to move. Then, a second figure identical to the first, 'glided' out from the same direction and stood to the left of the first one, as viewed from my position. Both figures seemed to be 'floating off the ground' and had seemed to glide. The 'body seemed composed of some sort of black material that was convoluted, with like lengthwise 'folds'. The 'head' was encased in an elongated glass helmet' and where the eyes would be was a single, large round-shaped 'green eye' or light. Today I would liken it to a large LED (Light Emitting Diode) but I am not so sure such devices existed at that time. Mercifully (I felt) I could not see the features behind the 'glass' but I had an uncanny and distinct feeling that I would't want to see behind the 'glass' anyway.

I am unable to clearly describe my feelings except for one thought within the sheer terror that overwhelmed me. 'This cannot be happening, but it IS!' Amazingly thoughts of 'those in government would not believe what is happening to me right now but they are fast asleep in their bed's and NOT here in this Punchbowl with me, seeing what I am seeing!' I clearly recall those thoughts. I seem to remember something else, a 'sickly odour'. Was this the 'odour of fear' or did it come from those two aliens? I truthfully do not know! Such thoughts were fleeting, coming to me in a moment of utmost terror. My second thought was of the sudden need to 'look at another human being' and almost in slow motion and with great concentration of effort I managed to turn my head 'left' to look at my brother. Why 'left' when he had been standing on my 'right?' I'm at a loss to explain that one. The two aliens stood a mere 'few feet' away, within touching distance. Utilising all my concentration I slowly, so very slowly and 'mechanically' managed to turn my head to look upon my brother. A second shock now struck me as I saw that I was standing there alone. The shock of this realisation galvanised my hitherto 'paralysed' body into sudden 'action' and turning my body to face the direction that I was facing, for the thought came to me that if I looked back at them again I would not escape. I then ran! That headlong, terror-stricken flight was like a nightmare in itself because I was expecting to be seized from behind. My thought was that I would surely not be allowed to escape after what I had just witnessed. I had no sense of direction at all, I remember only that my one and only desperate thought was to put as much distance between me and 'them' and as possible. I ran, seemingly blindly and I could plainly hear high pitched screaming as I ran. Those screams seemed to be apart from me but may well have come from me, I truly don't know! All I remember was that headlong, panic-stricken flight as 'running in a nightmare' and the full expectancy that I would 'not be allowed to escape'. The next image as I ran so blindly was of finding myself inexplicably at the base of the 'thirty foot' steep incline that we had initially descended. How did I, in that panic-stricken flight manage to find my way back to where we had descended into the Punch Bowl? I was and am unable to explain that one either.

There, ahead of me and scrambling up that steep incline was my brother. I had 'caught up' with him and in later years he told me that he was on a 'rise' before reaching that incline and that when he looked back to check that I was with him he saw to his horror, that I was still standing at the original spot with two aliens clearly seen towering over me. By the time he had scaled that steep incline, I had caught him up. He must have seen me but seconds before I had turned and fled. As a very fit, young Royal Marine and at the same time 'fuelled' with sheer panic, I can answer that one quite clearly. As we feverishly tried to climb that steep incline so we would slip back down a 'foot' for every 'three' we made upwards. Eventually we made the top. Den mounted his motorbike, 'kick started' it and I leapt onto the pillion and away we sped in great haste. Even as we rode at speed along that road I was half expecting to be seized and pulled off that motor-bike and I clung tenaciously, my arms around my brother's waist. I remember that just before we reached the city of Guildford, eleven miles on, Den pulled over and cut the engine. A tall, long ash fence lay close to us and against this we dropped onto our haunches unable to believe what had happened and how we had escaped a 'fate worse than death'. I remember nothing more after collapsing against that fence. I haven memory of arriving home, not even of the rest of my leave. I do not to this day remember returning to my barracks nor of the intense training that followed. I have hitherto told no one outside of the family of our experience at the Punchbowl that 'never to be forgotten' night.

Strangely, I never forgave my brother for 'deserting' me down there. For three years I had no contact with him. Then, I heard that my brother was in an Isolation Hospital at Feltham, where he lived and that he was in a 'serious condition'. Dennis had contracted 'Hepatitis C' and relenting, I went to visit him. What I saw shocked me and totally melted my anger. Den looked like a 'skeleton' with 'yellow skin' drawn over it. He was badly jaundiced and had almost died. A priest had closed his eyes when Den suddenly opened them and the nurse had screamed. It had been a very 'close call'. It was 'years' later that Den explained that he had thought I was behind him when he ran. That only on reaching high ground had he turned to look back and saw that I was not with him but was standing there still with those two 'beings' towering over me. His only thought then was to 'escape and to report what had happened'. Luckily for me that I managed to 'just' catch him up before he'd gained the top of that steep incline, above which his motorbike was parked. It was all of 'thirty miles' journey back to where I lived. Besides, poor Den would no doubt have been taken for psychiatric observation. OR charged with possible 'murder' associated with my 'disappearance'. Do I believe in 'aliens?' DO I WHAT? Oh yes, 'they' exist for sure! You won't find them when you are in the pub, watching TV or fast asleep in your bed, although I must hesitate here because I have since read of abductions of hitherto sleeping persons. There was something else that is relevant to this true story. When I finally talked with Dennis and asked him outright "why did you desert me down there?' He told me "it was those small creatures with red eyes that had almost formed a circle around you". There were hundreds of them. I never thought I would see you again!" I had not seen these 'red eyed' creatures but then, I had not been looking back!

Many years later, on desolate Dartmoor in Devonshire, late one night, on the Northern Moor out of Okehampton, was a strange arc of brilliant white light. Another brother, Jim and his teenage son and daughter were with us. We decided to look closer at this strange arc of bright white light behind a high rocky Tor. The road to that part of the Moor was narrow, too narrow to 'reverse turn' and so would necessitate continuing a few miles further to the tiny 'roundabout' or 'doughnut' to come back on ourselves. After driving along this narrow road, flanked on either side by a steep 'drop' onto a boulder strewn moor for some miles, I began to feel a strong sense of apprehension, a strange feeling of danger, my sixth sense at work! This feeling had barely been with me for long when brother Jim suggested that we should 'turn back' because he 'felt it was dangerous to continue'. However, I had spotted something else, something that made my heart race. I saw literally 'hundreds if not thousands' of 'pairs of red eyes'. Those 'red eyes' did not belong to animals because no animal was capable of such speed and able to traverse that boulder-strewn terrain and the deep craters littering the North Moor, especially at night, besides which the number of those pairs of 'red eyes' was vast. My blood ran cold as I remembered what Den had seen at the Punch Bowl, 'red eyes' exactly what we were seeing there now on that Moor. And without doubt were seeking to surround us. Keeping my mounting panic and concern to myself I heard Jim again express his concern at continuing and I responded with mounting anger due to fear and frustration that I could not 'bloody well turn around' as the road was far too narrow and too high above the moor for the wheels to reach the ground once the wheels left the road. I felt that we had no choice but to continue on to that small 'roundabout' or 'doughnut' that I estimated was about 'four' miles further on. I was driving a Mk 1600 1 Ford Consul and brother Jim asked to get out to 'see if there was a place we do a reverse turn'. All too soon he called out "here Bri, you can reverse here!" I replied "are you sure Jim?" I had doubts, in that the 'drop' appeared to be too deep. He assured me that it was 'okay'. The rapidly moving 'red eyes' had by now spread out ahead of us, crossed over the road and having split into two vast 'groups' either side of that road, both were rushing speedily in our direction as if to encircle us. Where had I heard this before? It was Dennis and the Punch Bowl saga all over again. Thousands of them it seemed to me to be. Now I knew it was vital that we escaped. The memory of the Punch Bowl left little doubt in my mind as to what those 'red eyes' were,'what' they belonged to. Trying hard to control the fast rising panic within me I shakily expressed my doubts that the 'drop' was too deep and would plant the car on it's chassis before the wheels contacted the ground. "No, it's okay!" Jim's words were hardly convincing but by now close to panic myself I drove slowly, turning the steering wheel 'hard over' to greatly effect the reverse turn and trusting Jim's 'observation' I put the gear into reverse and backed the car slowly off the road. A sudden 'crash' ensued and the wheels, it was rear wheel drive, spun above the surface of the ground. We were now completely trapped and helpless! Jim and Jimmy got out of the car and went to the rear. Christine was sitting behind me as her Dad and brother were trying to lift the car back onto the road, without success.

I had seldom experienced such fear as I sat there helplessly watching those rapidly speeding 'entities' that would soon have encircled and been upon us. No one else in my car had as yet seen them. Jim and his son were trying to lift the rear of that 1600cc Ford Consul back onto the road. Jim was a brawny, a strong fellow but all that he and his son achieved was to 'lift' the car only so far a little way 'off' its suspension. The wheels however remained firmly on the ground. The idea fleetingly entered my head to get out and to run those 'nine miles' back to Okehampton, but how when those 'things' were so fleetingly fast? Besides which, I couldn't leave Christine and whatever happened we were not capable of travelling 'nine miles' on foot to escape those rapidly speeding 'beings'. Then as Jim was trying without success to lift the car, so Christine suddenly glanced over to her 'right'; saw the hundreds of 'red eyes' pouring like a flood down that sloping terrain towards us, screamed loudly "What are those? What are those?" Her loud scream signalled for the movement of the car on it's springs to momentarily cease, obviously Jim had paused to see what had frightened his daughter. This was then followed by the sudden and unbelievable lifting of the car bodily in such a way as to slew it around at the same time so that it was facing our escape route out of there. Jim and Jimmy dived into the car and opening the throttle I drove out of that place like the proverbial 'bat out of Hell'. I could scarcely believe our lucky escape. It is said that fear can induce enormous 'reserves' of strength in a crisis and that is what happened with Jim.

I drove as fast as was safely possible on that narrow road that night and upon reaching the top of a hill, some 'mile or two' further on, I stopped the car, engine left running, got out and looked back, Jim likewise. For several seconds we saw nothing but then, there they were, those two vast swarms of 'red eyes' pursuing us, on both sides of that road. I don't exaggerate their numbers, to me that seemed to run in 'hundreds if not thousands'. They 'appeared' to me to be small in stature, that was my impression because it was dark. They certainly travelled at speed over a very dangerous and rough terrain with many deep 'craters' and strewn boulders. After about 'five' stops, atop a hill (a precaution in the event that the car stalled and would not re start we would coast down). Each time we stopped and looked back so a 'minute or so would pass then suddenly, there they were, continuing their pursuit of us. On the 'last' hill I was able to see the lights of 'Okehampton' ahead of us, on our 'right'. We stopped here and again looked back. This time however we saw nothing more of those 'red eyed creatures'.

Dear reader, whether you believe my true narrative I leave with you. I can but sincerely express that it happened as I have recorded it. As a 'reluctant' ufologist I have written of this 'alien encounter' quite some time ago, it was not published on the site I sent it to, neither was it even acknowledged. I wrote it out of sincere interest and possibly in the hope of eliciting a similar experience from others who maybe experienced an 'extra terrestrial' identical to mine. For what it's worth I have made 'pilgrimage' to that same area several times since, without 'success' except for two occasions when I heard that same 'musical sound 'fly' over not so far overhead, just above tree height in fact. Nothing was visible although the sound indicated it had passed over the top of the tall pine trees through which our path led. 'My' car (borrowed from my younger brother) was parked some 'half mile' away at a car-park off the A3 and unable to contain my excitement as my brother said to me "Brian, I have never doubted your story but hearing that sound for myself, well it is certainly not of this World!" I suggested we return to the car, have a much needed coffee to steady our nerves, grab the portable 'excuse for a tape-recorder' (a 'tinny' Woolworth job) and endeavour to capture that weird sound". We made it to the car-park and to the coffee when suddenly brilliant lights lit up the car from behind. A rap on the window and I saw a policeman accompanied by a 'special'. I wound the window down. He asked "what are you doing here?" My short 'fuse' at this offensive intrusion along with my irate words to the effect that it was a 'free country' and to 'clear off' (well, 'clear' was not exactly the word I used ) did not go down well because a second patrol car arrived and my brother and I were handcuffed and incarcerated in separate cells at Godalming Police Station. How could we 'explain' that we were 'UFO hunting? The police cells that we spent six hours in being infinitely the better alternative to a mental hospital!

This incarceration was due to the 'copper' opening the boot of the car and discovering a 'twelve bore' shotgun that I had placed there, intending to shoot rabbits the following morning. I was accused of being 'Harry Roberts' (the guy who had shot a policeman dead, although this man was already in police custody in 1966). Raymond and I were released at 0600hrs the following morning, without charge! I have had other experiences of UFO's one of which was no rest distance away out at sea off Brighton in Sussex. It made no sound, gave the undoubted impression of being immense in size, and moved slowly and silently just above the sea, emerging from a fog bank on the West side to vanish silently into the fog bank on the East side. It was followed then by a second, identical 'saucer shaped UFO' with a 'bee hive' like dome on top and 'small' portholes' around the circumference of the body. Time being 0500hrs. I had been sea-fishing at the time of the occurrence. I also had a frightening experience whilst under canvas at that same seaside resort of Brighton. But that, as they say, is another story!

NOTE: I want to thank Brian for forwarding this interesting summary of encounters...Lon

An Overview of Extraterrestrial Races: Who is Who in the Greatest Game of History

Britain's X-traordinary Files

The UFO Files: The Inside Story of Real-life Sightings

For Nobody's Eyes Only: Missing Government Files and Hidden Archives That Document the Truth Behind the Most Enduring Conspiracy Theories