Sasquatch Chronicles Blog

Sent to Nick Orton

“I was stationed there for four years attached to the Marine Corps Security Force Battalion as a sailor from 2014-2018.

Our duty in that particular part of the base was to stand static towers positioned around the inside perimeter of the fenced in area of our AO. In addition, we would stand ECP’s (entry control points) and on occasion had roving foot patrols when fog would roll in which stunted our ability to see the perimeter fence at night. We would stand those static posts for about 6 hours, but sometimes it would be pushed out to 12 hours depending on how many bodies we had on shift, I.E people getting sick or people getting in trouble with the command etc. One tower in particular was responsible for one of the most chilling moments of my life and gives me goosebumps thinking about it to this day. One night I drew tower 33 for the second half of the night. The first post stander had nothing new to report which made for a fairly easy turnover.

A few hours after I had assumed control of the tower, I put my head down for a few minutes to rest my eyes (shit bag status never takes a break). Now the only way anyone can enter these towers is by the post stander manual pressing a button on post which unlocked the tower door at the very bottom. Each tower only had one entrance and these doors were pretty beefy. We also have cctvs at the top so the sentry can see who is approaching at any given time.

Anyway a few minutes after I put my head down, at the very bottom of the tower I heard what can only be described as a woman being quite literally stabbed to death. The blood curdling scream echoed all the way to the top which jolted me right back to reality. At first I thought I imagined the scream, but that would mean I was potentially going insane, and I was nowhere near being sleep deprived at the time. After I had been jolted back from a near sleep, I heard the scream again. This time it was louder and way more violent.

After I heard this I looked through the glass of the tower and around the perimeter to see if I couldn’t see any of my buddies who may be trying to fuck with me. Nothing. I also checked the cctv which pointed directly at the door outside and there was nothing. Mind you this tower was a ways from the SSCC (the building the Marines and sailors would hang out in when not on post), and if a vehicle approached you’d be able to see and hear it coming at you.

After I left my post I told some of my sailor buddies about the ordeal and just as I suspected, nobody believed me. However the next few nights some of those same guys had to stand that post. I was really hoping they would hear the same thing I did just to validate that I wasn’t going crazy. Sure enough those same guys who didn’t believe me heard the exact same thing, and changed their tune pretty quickly after that.

To end the story, one night we were all talking on the tour phones which connected the towers so we could keep each other awake. This dude who wasn’t really a part of my friend group, who was a cool guy in general, had tower 33. We were all conversing when he started to sound frantic. We were grilling him about what was going on because we had an idea about what might be happening. Out of nowhere he hangs up the phone, and no one can get in contact with him.

About 10-15 minutes later, the towers that could directly see the SSCC saw a duty truck that our first classes would take out for post inspections and a Humvee drive to tower 33 where this guy was standing post. A few minutes go by and we see that they are swapping out sentries with the dude who was panicking a short time ago. The phones connecting with tower 33 didn’t reconnect the rest of the night, and everyone else could only speculate until after shift. Once we got back to the building, a few of us sought out the first class in charge of us that and asked him what had happened.

The first class told us he had to wait about 5 minutes until the sentry would allow anyone in the tower to check on him. Once the first class gained access to the tower, he went up and noticed the hatch directly above the ladder leading into the tower was shut and locked up. He had to talk the kid down to let him all the way up. When the first class finally got to the very top, he said the sentry was fully tac’d up, with his rifle in his hand in condition 1 and pale white. He told the first class what he heard and they swapped him out. The messed-up part about this specific incident was this guy never came back to work. He refused to come back, so they had to send him down to lower base and process him out.

They say there are Native American burial grounds around that entire base. I kind believe it. Matter of fact this one time in a tower I saw a Native American boy walking outside of the fence. He passed a tree and disappeared. Those Indians had to have cursed those lands a long time ago, on foot patrols I always had a very uneasy feeling of being watched. The entire area is surrounded by trees and is almost black if it weren’t for the perimeter light.

There are a lot of stories that I could tell about Bangor and the Limited Area, about things that happened that are just completely unexplainable. However, this story is one that still sends chills up my spine anytime I think back on it.”
Anonymous US Marine

Nestled on the Kitsap Peninsula in Washington State lies the sleepy but aptly named Naval Base Kitsap. A combination of three US Navy bases, there lies the location of an infamous duty assignment for US Marines and Sailors alike: Bangor.

Bangor is a home and resting place for some of the most dangerous creatures in the world, ballistic submarines. Leviathans that lurk beneath the water and carry the power to destroy whole cities within them. It is a place that demands a certain level of high security staffed by Navy Masters-at-arms and Marines of the Marine Corps Security Force Battalion Bangor (MSCFBn Bangor). The base is a highly secured site, lethal force is authorized to protect the stock of city destroying munitions. Good luck breaching this location (except a few senior citizen protesters did just this in 2009, besides the point). No one (usually) wants to mess with heavily armed government goons, and the forces that protect Bangor train to respond to any human force that attempts to breach the perimeter.
But who can prepare for the inhuman forces that seem drawn to Bangor?

The security forces report a nightmare assortment of happenings, nightmare fuel that causes many Marines stationed here on their first pump to leave the Corps all together. There are reports of voices, footsteps, lights, objects moving on their own, and ghostly hand prints.

There are even reports of inhuman creatures lurking outside the wire in the woods, bipedal stalkers that stand around eight to nine feet tall. Sometimes these creatures walk up to the fence, almost reaching the top. Other times, those on patrol see something massive in the woods walking alongside them. Something massive and fast that can keep up with a patrol car or vehicle. At times pale faced creatures that stare out from behind trees at Marines standing a silent duty. Maybe curious, maybe cautious. Their presence is an unwelcomed sight. They come to see what a bizarre menagerie of steel and concrete is assembled before them, on land that belongs to them.

Then there are the shadow people, yes plural. Tall slender things made up of darkness that are seen with the naked eye and on thermals. Sometimes they walk on two feel, lazily shuffling about. Other times they scurry on four limbs, an uneasy site for a lonely watch stander at night. More unsettling, these shadows will come up to locked doors and attempt to find a way inside before walking away.

Then at the tip of the iceberg is the “Jawless Indian Girl” or JIG as she is known. No matter who you speak to, the JIG is known by all. She resembled a sixteen-year-old native girl adorned with a white christening dress splattered with blood, and a missing lower jaw. She has been witnessed by countless Sailors and Marines. She watches from afar, moving with near instant speeds from place to place. With her frightening visage, personnel have learned to ignore the feelings of being watched, especially don’t look out the windows. No one knows who she is, her origins, what she is. Just that she has been an enduring presence that has stalks all of Kitsap for years. Barracks, guard towers, forests, bunkers, armories; she treads where she wants and nowhere is unreachable. The JIG only seems interested in tormenting and terror. A restless victim of a unsolved crime? A troublesome ghost? Or a demonic entity? No one knows. All they know is that the JIG is very real.

The stories that come out of Bangor are numerous as they are unsettling. The rumor behind all these happenings is that Bangor is either cursed or has a secret Native American burial ground hidden somewhere on the perimeter. Further rumor suggests that there is a painting in one of the cantonment area buildings. It’s a secured site, so no cameras or phones allowed. But on the wall in this building rests a painting from the 1800’s. It is a painting that shows the area of Bangor now occupied by the Military. You can see nature, wildlife, Native villages, and far away from those villages, lurking in the trees… a mysterious ghostly figure dressed in white ad missing a jaw purposely painted into the landscape. Maybe the occurrences of the JIG predate the modern times.

It would appear that the most terrifying thing at Bangor isn’t some man-made weapon locked in bunker.

“Nick” of Tales From The Grid Square is an active-duty member of the US Army with a long-standing interest in the paranormal. Several of his own experiences and experiences of his peers inspired him to start “Tales From The Grid Square” on Instagram where he collects and documents the paranormal encounters of military service members. You can share your own stories to the Instagram Account @Tales_From_The_Gridsquare or email: TalesFromTheGridsquare@gmail.com. Tales From The Grid Square Vol 1 and Vol 2 are collections of such stories submitted and available on Amazon.
Tales From The Grid Square Vol 1: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09ZL9BQ1D
Tales From The Grid Square Vol 2: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C4819MW3