Myself, Charlie and Ron were all in our early twenties, raised in wartime London and trained in engineering. We were all newcomers to military life, and were laying around on our beds discussing the next day's work. The rest of the platoon was asleep and because our three bed spaces were adjacent at the far end of the "spider" hut, we could talk without disturbing anyone else. This was before the "lights out" call, but the area was quiet.

Charlie's bed was opposite mine and Ron's, so he was able to see out of the windows above our two beds. He noticed a movement outside the window, above Ron's bed and shouted out to him about it. Ron looked around, leapt up off his bed and shouted at me: "Get up, Ken, and look at this thing." In the two seconds it took me to realise he was being serious, the "thing" was looking at me through my window and I was off the bed and standing with the other two, our eyes like organ stops trying to understand what we were seeing.

The "thing", as I call it, was of the classical ghostly appearance and greenish white in colour, although the head had a pink tinge. The head was clearly visible and so were the hands. It seems to have a covering of some sort over the back of the head and down over the shoulders and body. It moved with a swaying, floating, bobbing movement.

The head of the "thing" was completely devoid of any normal features: no lips, no nose, no ears, no eyebrows, no hair. Where the eyes should have been were just dark slits or holes. The mouth was opening and closing, fish-like, but making no sound. Most disturbing were the beckoning gestures of the hands, alternating with scratching on the window panes. The hands, or maybe I should say fingers, appeared to be skeletal, with no finger nails, very thin and dirty white in colour.

The movements were deliverate and slow and it was obvious it wanted to join us in the hut, or for us to go outside. THe "Thing" disappeared for several seconds, long enough for us to look at one another and say, "What the...hell is that?" Then it was back again, on the other side of the hut, outside of the double fire doors and pulling on the door knobs so violenetly that Charlie, whose bed was nearest to the doors, jammed his rifle though the bars to stop the doors opening outwards.