The Haunted Hangar

By M.P. Pellicer | Stranger Than Fiction Stories
The RAF Museum at Cosford houses hundreds of aircraft, but there is one craft, an Avro Lincoln RF398 which is said to be haunted by a pilot that was killed in a crash​.

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Who is the ghost that haunts the Avro Lincoln Bomber RF398?

The Avro Lincoln bomber, serial number RF398 flew out the first time on September, 1945 to serve with the Royal Air Force. Too late to participate in WWII, it was used in the Mau Mau Uprising in Kenya, and the Malayan Emergency during the 1950s. It saw service in Britain, Malta, Gibraltar, Tripoli and Idris before being retired.

It was flown on April 30, 1963, for storage at a future RAF Museum. In 1965, the RF398 had been adopted by the Air Historical Branch of the M.O.D. (Air). It was moved to RAF Cosford for storage in the late summer of 1968.

It didn't get much attention until the body of a Polish pilot was recovered from a nearby peat bog in 1987. During the Second World War, thousands of exiles from German-occupied Poland were keen to join the RAF, and to fight back against the common enemy. Other say that when the pilot was buried in consecrated ground in November, 1987 after his remains were recovered, the sightings of a mysterious airman known as "Lindholme Willie" at RAF Lindholme ceased.

Others tie the beginning of weird events to a Spitfire, which was brought to the hangar around the same time.

In 1979, a local newspaper sent a photographer to get a picture of three volunteers who were working on the wreck, along with a story of the WWII planes at the museum. When the photograph was developed there was a fourth figure in the group. No one could account for  who this was.

One of the engineers working on the planes saw a figure coming towards them, and then disappear as he turned towards it. The other man was in the cockpit and didn't witness the apparition. There were no other persons working in the hangar at that time. The next day, both engineers found parts underneath the plane, which had not been there before. They were more mystified then before, since they were the last to leave the building, and the first to arrive

The BBC heard of the story, and they sent reporter Maureen Carter to cover the haunted plane. By then over two dozen ghostly experiences were reported around the hangar. The camera crew discovered what they filmed only after they returned to their offices. Next to Maureen Carter, who sat in the bomber's cockpit, was a ghostly image. She didn't see anything when the photograph was taken.

Another sighting took place in 1980, when a staff member saw a figure moving in the shadows by the plane. He switched on the light and searched everywhere, but found nothing. Once the lights were off, a "cloudy thing" appeared. That same week a mechanic working on the plane felt around for a piece of equipment that had fallen, and was shocked when it was handed to him, even though he was working alone.

That same year, a visitor said he saw a fair-haired man in a white polo necked sweater under battle dress and forage cap, sitting in the cockpit of the plane.

As time passed more persons described seeing an airman in battle dress in the hangar. Others have seen someone wearing a flying helmet in the observation dome of the aircraft.

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RF-398

The ghost likes to makes its presence known by moving objects and affecting the temperature. There has been the sound of footsteps around the plane.

In 1984, the ghost was seen by a camera man working with the program, Wish You Were Here.

The secretary to the museum society heard her name being called. She looked for a live person, and found no one. After this, she refused to enter the hangar alone.

An electrician who took a 15-ft. tumble from the hangar; instead of hitting the concrete floor felt his descent stopped. He felt he floated instead of hitting the pavement hard.

In 1987, the Chesterfield Paranormal Research Group investigated the hangar. They left a tape recorder in the plane, and made sure no one was in the building. When they returned the lid of the machine was lifted, and two reels were removed and spread about the cockpit.

During the next four years at least 20 recordings were taken around the RF398, which included muffled voices, droning engines, tapping and rappings.

In 1991, the BBC produced a show titled Strange Stories: The Haunting of RF 398. They were able to record some of the strange noises others had heard in the hangar. Afterward the museum declined other requests for investigating the hangar.

The identity of the ghost remain as much a mystery as it always has. Some say it is Master Pilot Hiller who loved the aircraft, and said on his last flight that he would "haunt his baby". He did not foresee that he would die in 1963 in an airplane crash.

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Notice of the burial of the unknown airman discovered in a peat bog. c. November 7, 1987 (Source - Derby Evening Telegraph)

Who is the Ghostly Airman? This is a story that might shed some light on that question. It was excerpted from the book Military Ghosts by Alan C. Wood:

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RAF Lindholme, 7 miles east-north-east of Doncaster, began life in 1938/1940 as a No.5 Group bomber airfield, with two runways and thirty-six hardstandings. It was only 20 feet above sea level, with Lindholme Lake 3 miles east, and marsh bogs at the end of one runway. The last RAF usage was in 1978. At present it is HM Prison, Lindholme.

On 20 July 1941, No. 305 Polish (‘Weilkoposki’) Squadron moved into RAF Lindholme, and equipped with Vickers Wellington 1C aircraft. The squadron commenced night bombing raids into the Ruhr valley of Germany which continued until August 1943, when it transferred to day bombing. After a bombing raid over Cologne, a Wellington overshot runway 232 and sank out of sight in the peat bog; none of the aircrew were found. Second World War legend has it that a badly damaged, Polish-piloted Wellington bomber, returning one night from bombing Germany, had a badly wounded sergeant pilot who ordered his crew to bale out, whilst he attempted to land the stricken bomber. The aircrew baled out, leaving the pilot alone. The Wellington aircraft came down in Lindholme Bog, and disappeared beneath the surface.

Three weeks or so later, the Station Padre was on the airfield at night, when he saw a blood stained figure in Second World War flying clothing approaching. The figure said, ‘Sir, can you direct me to the Sergeants’ Mess?’ in a strong Polish accent. The padre pointed to the nearby Sergeants’ Mess, and the figure walked away into the darkness before the Padre could offer assistance. The wounded Sergeant pilot was seen by others at Lindholme airfield, and on one occasion spoke to the Station Commander Group Captain, asking the same question. As the figure disappeared, the Group Captain ordered a search of the area, but nothing was found.

The Second World War ended, but on numerous occasions the ghostly, wounded Sergeant pilot kept appearing at Lindholme, still asking the same question, and always disappearing. He came to be known as ‘Lindholme Willy’. One version of the legend has it that the bomber crashed into the bog, killing all but the wounded pilot, who managed to stagger from the aircraft – in the bog – and die on the doorstep of the Sergeants’ Mess.

Other legends abound about the Lindholme ghostly airman/airmen – one has it that there is a Hampden light bomber still down in the bog, with the dead aircrew aboard. Handley Page Hampdens, aircraft of 50 Squadron, were based at Lindholme, and took place on the first RAF bombing raid on Berlin, on the night of 25/26 August 1940.

In 1975 , Fisons Fertiliser Company dredged Lindholme Bog, known as Hatfield Waste, for peat, and found the wreckage of a crashed Wellington, identified from its geodetic construction. In the cockpit were four unidentifiable human remains. A Wellington aircraft carried five aircrew.

On 23 July 1987 a Fison’s workman, digging for peat, found the peat-preserved body of a Polish airman, which bore injuries consistent to him falling from an aircraft at a height. The airman’s body could not be identified. He was buried on 11th November 1987, at RAF Finningley.

The airman recovered during the summer of 1987, was interred in November at Holy Trinity and St. Oswald, Finningley Churchyard at row 6 plot 1, with a service held by an RAF Chaplain  There were no dog tags, or other means of identification so he was buried with a "Known to God" headstone.

This is another story from 2016, about a person who blogged about the following encounter:

I was employed at RAF Lindholme in 1968/69 with MPBW as a works plumber. The works complex was located at the far end of the camp away from the living quarters. The time of year was probably November and as I was making my way back along the road which was poorly lit I observed a figure in flying jacket and boots cross in front of me about 100 yards in front. The weather was foggy and it was dark apart from the poor lamps. The figure came from the airfield and made it's way to an equipment store that supplied flying jackets to the trainee flying cadets that used the chipmunk trainer. I thought nothing of this incident until I was well past this point, but being curious as to why anyone should be flying in this weather, turned around and went back to the store, to ask who had come in wearing wartime flying gear only to be informed that no one had come in the store in the last 4 hours as the weather was too bad. So was this "Lindholme Willie" I had observed? I always like to think so.

Another true account from 2018:

1972. Cadets from my Air Training Corps Squadron visited Lindholme for annual camp. The airfield was preparing to be closed and its aircraft transferred, but there was a Victor undergoing some major maintenance, and it was still in one of the hangars.

1973. Little did I realize in 1965, that just 8 years later I would be detached to Lindholme for Area Radar training as part of my Air Traffic Control Officer course, but I was. The unit now called 'Northern Radar' had civil controllers working alongside tthe RAF ones, each operating their own traffic in the same airspace.

Lindhome Willy. I lived in the Officers Mess during my detachment. One evening I was walking from the TV room to the bar along a corridor, which passed the snooker room. The door to this was ajar, there was a light showing and I could hear the balls 'clicking' as if someone was playing. As occasionally, one of us civil or military controllers might slip in there for a solo knockabout, I poked my head round the door to see who it was. The room was empty! No other doors, windows closed, a ball still rolling across the table! I could feel a double whisky beckoning at this point, so I continued my walk to the bar where I told the others in there about this. Some confessed to having similar 'experiences including a Singapore Air Force Officer who was on a course at the Bombing School, and had never heard about Lindholme Willy! One of the RAF guys then told a great story. Back in the days when the runway caravan was the towed type rather than being self-propelled; they had finished flying for the day due to deteriorating weather; the guy in the caravan was waiting for a towing vehicle to `come and pick him up and suddenly, there was a knock on the door!` Now the airman hadn't seen any vehicle drive up and on looking out of the 'glasshouse', all he saw near the door area was a white shapeless object so presumably thinking Lindholme Willy was paying him a visit, he did the only logical thing; crashed open the door and legged it across the airfield! Which rather surprised the person outside; he was a USAF F100 pilot who had been unable to land close by due to the weather, had run short of fuel and ejected, and happened to land on Lindholme airfield. He had then gathered up his billowing white parachute and walked towards the only light he could see; that on the runway caravan. On arrival in the usual courteous American way, he had knocked on the door before entering. You know the rest.

Perhaps the ghostly airman is one whose body is yet to be discovered, buried in a bog or in the wreckage of his plane.