I used to spend my Christmas holidays with my family on my Uncle’s ex-wife’s farm in the Eastern Cape region of South Africa. Many years ago, this area was the location of many skirmishes between the Xhosa people who were moving south after being displaced by the Zulus, and the British who were deployed to the area to defend colonial settlers. There was more than one battle on the farm, where there is an old graveyard with only a few remaining grave markers of unknown British soldiers. Each simple cast iron cross with only with the words – ‘Here lies the body of a Brave British Solder’
The farm is situated at the mouth of the Kariga River next to the sea and was an idyllic place for young children to swim, play on the beach and in the numerous rock pools.
However, when the wind blew in from the south, it pushed in the cold offshore water which reacted with the warm sea breezes and formed a thick swirling mist.
A day could turn from warm and sunny to cold and windy in a matter of minutes. When the wind settled, the mist would deaden all sound and limit vision to less than a few yards. This is when, sometimes, a British soldier in a uniform from the late 1800s would be seen walking through the mist.
I have only experienced him once, but I clearly saw him visible from the knees upward, walking through a field in the middle of the day. He didn’t seem to be walking purposely, but rather wandering, with his hands behind his back, as someone would do on a daily stroll. You could see his mustache, wire-framed spectacles, and neatly bryl-creamed hair. Although confronting, I didn’t feel that he was any threat at all.
I like to think that he, although still around many decades after his death, is at peace here.
Submitted by Ken Fyfe to Weird Darkness and My Haunted Life Too
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