UNKNOWN AND UNEXPLAINED ENCOUNTERS OF THE ENGLISH GENTLEMAN BRIAN BIRCH

Brian is a man who lived and lives  his life large and full. He has always been active and alive out doing and seeing, not a man who sits about and watches life on a small screen or from his window. Brian is one of those people who lives his life fully.

 

Brain served his country as a Royal Marine which is a distinguished division of the United Kingdoms military. . He also was a boxer while in the Royal Marines making it clear that this man knows how to take care of himself and not the type to be fearful of things, in fact he is one of the men we all call when we are fearful of things!

 

His life has been exciting, he has been married, three times and has children and grandchildren as well as a large extended family around him.

 

I tell you these things about this man as he without question fits the pattern or profile of  people who seem to share personality traits with others who report encounters with the unexplained and unknown.

Of course it is logical that those who are out in the world in touch with their surroundings are also the people who encounter strange events and see odd things. You are far more likely to experience more in life if you out living it rather than sitting it out hidden behind a screen or some kind of device too timid to actually go live life first hand. Those who experience the unknown  seem to be people who have open curious minds that connect with the realization they are witnessing or encountering something unexplained and unusual.

I personally believe many people have been in the middle of strange events and simply did not pay attention or notice  what was going on around them.. Sadly many in our society walk around blind to the world around or above them instead living in locked small bubbles that prevent them from really living a full life. The difference between those who do and do not experience many unknowns may be that some people are not  controlled by techie devices and live aware of life around them not locked in closed off bubbles making them the people who encounter what truly is happening that many others choose to ignore.

Brian Birch does not walk around or live his life in a protective blind bubble , Brian took life on at its level and in return life has shown him more of what exists, I think Brian was raised in a family of full living people and along with his brothers and nephews Brain has experienced many incredible encounters of the unusual yet very real kind. I truly  enjoy communicating with this man as he is one of those people who has had a interesting full life filled with adventure and events that are interesting and far from the ordinary.

 

Brian served his country in the Royal Marines which trained him to be a strong man fully capable of handling dangerous situations and difficult circumstances. I believe this special training maybe the reason he survived some of the odd encounters he has had during his life .

 

Brian has written about the odd encounters of his life. I have decided to share his encounters with my readers exactly as Brian has shared them with me. Below you will find what Brain has told me  about a few of the odd events he encountered in his life. The first event he shared with me took place in 1959. Brain wrote:

 

” In 1959 while serving with the Royal Marines I was travelling back from leave. I was travelling with my brother on his motorbike. My brother suddenly steered off on to the grass on the edge of a deep bowl shaped escarpment and cut the engine. 

I asked my brother “problems?”  He replied “no, just thought to ‘spend a penny’ and take a breather”.  It was a relief to get off the ‘bike in respite of the bitter cold winter ‘slipstream’ as I was dressed in my summer clothes. I only otherwise possessed my uniform.  Our stop was albeit briefly intended.  Then, as we stood there looking across that bowl-shaped, scrub populated valley there when came to our ears a weird

‘musical’ sound that ‘rose and fell’ and emanated from deep down in the lower part of the ‘bowl shaped’ escarpment  known as The Devil’s Punchbowl. 

 

 Curious as to the origin of that truly weird ‘musical’ sound we decided to descend ,on our back-sides, down the steep descent into the Punchbowl.  What we encountered down there was an encounter of sheer terror when we came ‘face to face’ with two alien beings.

 

The strange beings towered over us so closely  that had I wished- I could have touched them.  They ‘floated’ about ‘two feet’ or so above the ground and must have stood about ‘ten to twelve feet’ in height.  They wore elongated helmets.  One ‘green’ eye (or light) where you’d expect the eyes to have  been.  Sheer terror and panic seized me and I was temporarily paralyzed with the rush of adrenalin for a few seconds before being over taken by blind fear and terror and started to run frantically from them, unaware of where I was running to. 

 My brother and I were able to make it back to his motor bike and our escape. We did  not look back nor understand what it was that we felt was hanging over our heads or what was making the musical sounds during the event. We mounted Den’s bike and rode away like the devil was in pursuit of us and we didn’t stop until we reached the city outskirts of  Guildford .

 

 

Life continued on however along with my time in the Royal Marines so did the strange encounters continue in my life

 

On another  night in 1959 I was standing guard as a Royal Marine and patrolling the perimeter of the ‘bivvy site’ (bivouac site) along with another  fellow Marine. The Bivvy was  in a forest in Kent. . 

 

 On this night I did not patrol with the other Royal Marine I decided to split up  and I patrolled a different area to be on my own. 

 

We carried .303 Lee Enfield’ rifles with ‘fixed-bayonets’ as the area had known previous IRA attacks on military personnel to acquire rifles. The track we were to patrol was one-mile-long with water and petrol carriers at one end and the latrines at the other. I was ‘elected’ to patrol the latrine area as my ‘buddy’ had already set off to patrol the former in spite of our being expected to patrol in pairs in case of attack. 

 

The path I was patrolling was well away from the ‘bivvy area’ and was bordered by a long stretch of high bushes, on the other side of which were large open fields. I was wearing ‘battle order’ which included SV boots (commando boots) with thick, hard rubber soles and which were ‘noiseless’ to aid ‘stealth’.  As I stood at the latrines (a six feet deep trench dug out of the ground with a plank of wood spanning it and the area was lit by a brilliant hissing pressure’ lantern).  As I walked slowly along the narrow track I suddenly sensed an ‘electric field’ that caused my hair to literally ‘stand on end’ and my whole body sensed something ‘spirit like’ in nature but decidedly malevolent was near.

 

It was a haunted type of danger or warning feeling I was feeling. It was so intense in the area by the latrines that I hurriedly left that area altogether.  I could feel ‘unseen eyes’ riveted on me and certainly not human ones.  I headed off into the darkness to continue patrolling the track alongside the fields which I couldn’t see into because of the dense, tall bushes bordering the track along which I patrolled.

 

As I slowly patrolled this track, perhaps half a mile or more distant from the area that my ‘buddy‘ was patrolling, I suddenly became aware of the sound of ‘something’ on the unseen ‘other side’ of those bushes.  Slow, ponderous and unbelievably heavy footfalls as ‘something’ walked noisily if casually along the other side of those high bushes.  

 

 I was puzzled.  How could anyone be so enormously heavy as to make that sound on what was a well trodden earthen trail?  The line of scrub ran for quite some distance, obscuring whatever it was walking so ponderously on the other side.  I hesitated to investigate.  My skin crawled.  I vividly recall that my inclination was to get out of there and make for the opposite direction back towards the bivvy area but I resolutely took a grip of myself and decided to overcome my fear, ‘to do my duty’ and to investigate. Was I not after all a Royal Marine? 

 

I began to quietly follow, pacing quietly those clearly discernible footfalls along the length of track alongside the scrub separating me from ‘whatever it was’ on the other side.  I knew that some hundred yards (meters) or so further along there was a break in those dense bushes and that was where I would come ‘face to face’ with whatever it was.  I had to make a conscious effort to steel myself for whatever I would encounter.  Whatever it was must have ‘weighed a ton’ to make the ground tremble like that. But on two feet?  What in Heavens name could it be?  A dinosaur?  That thought crossed my mind.

 

Shortly, I could just discern the ‘opening’ in the scrub ahead of me and gripping my rifle in an ‘attack’ position, my heart pounding, I quietly walked in time with those elephant like ‘footfalls’ and very soon I was approaching that opening in the bushes.

 

  As I came to that opening I leapt through it to confront whatever was the cause of those ‘elephant like’ footfalls and breaking the otherwise silence of that hour I barked loudly in a voice that would alert my sleeping Marine companions ‘buried’ in their bivvies. “Halt, who goes there?” 

 

 I was met with ominous silence and by nothing whatsoever ‘elephant like’ visible!  Bright moonlight lit-up that side of the tall scrub and revealed an immense size empty field of earth and sparsely short grass along the opposite side that track.  Perturbed now I walked alongside that ‘other side’, retracing my direction and searching the ground alongside those bushes . 

 

For about fifty yards or so I retraced my steps on that opposite side to that which I had been patrolling.  To my surprise and admittedly some relief there was nothing visible to be seen. Yet my scalp and flesh crawled with the awareness of an unseen and almost malevolent presence.  Greatly disturbed I hastily retreated, retracing my steps yet found nothing.

 

Unnerved by the experience and with hair ‘crawling’ I made my way quietly back towards the bivvy area and waited out my remaining time beneath a tree to await my relief, the time was about 1AM and I had an hour of my two-hour stag to go.  I told no one about my experience and back in my ‘hole in the ground’ with the bugs and spiders for company and still in full battle order including boots as was the custom, I allowed the blissfully, long awaited ‘arms of oblivion’ to overcome me before the hours of daylight all too quickly brought me back to the sobering, strenuous reality of Royal Marine training.

 

My life outside of the marines consisted of the normal things people do. I got married and had children and enjoyed time with my family when ever possible. The odd events in my life continued with me as well.

 

It was in 1964 that my brother James ‘Jim’ together with his young son also James (Jim junior) plus my brother’s daughter Christine set out one night on a ‘fifty mile plus’ drive from where my brother and his family lived.  I was driving that night as we set out from Sandford near Crediton for Dartmoor.  We often visited that desolate moor for it’s solitude and sometimes in order to ‘fire off’ our ‘twelve bore’ shotguns.  Shooting was a passion that my brother and I shared.  On this particular night we headed for Okehampton where we planned to join a narrow service road that would take us some nine miles onto the moor. 

 

 Our plan was to drive as far as was possible to a point where that road ended in a small ’roundabout’ or ‘doughnut’ that was the only place where one could reverse the car to return to Okehampton. 

 

 The service road was just wide enough to  permit our car to drive along it and even then, the wheels would be very near to the edge of that service road which was a good ‘eighteen inches’ of concrete and proud of or ‘above’ the surface of the moor itself. 

 

Dartmoor is very rugged with rocks and boulders strewn about, plus numerous deep pits spread about it’s very boggy surface.  No wheeled vehicle would be able to leave that road to access that rough, wild terrain in fact.  Cattle have been known to disappear when venturing onto that moor and people too have met the same fate, swallowed by such bogs or swept away by the tumultuous river Dart following the frequent and sudden heavy rainfalls of which Dartmoor is infamous.  

 

This particular journey was a sudden decision to attempt to reach notorious ‘Cranmere Pool’ which was situated well off that service road which would entail our having to park the car somewhere on that ‘loop’ then to travel on foot to reach our destination.

 

Cranmere Pool was reported to be haunted by the ghost of a man who died there named ‘Bengie’.  This was back many years hence of course and we subsequently discovered that the pool had long since dried up.  Whether we knew this as we set out I do not recall however we were determined to reach and to explore the area. 

 

 It was while driving across the moor from Okehampton that we noticed a circle of white light that silhouetted a tor (high rocky outcrop) like a halo. 

 

 The ground ahead of us and well up high above that narrow service road was quite some distant to us, in other words it was way ahead but up high on the steeply sloping terrain of the moor.  It was decidedly puzzling.  The light formed a perfect halo behind this tor and my first thought was that it might have been a helicopter but this thought was quickly dispelled as we drove nearer and there was no sound whatsoever of a helicopter which I knew from experience to be very noisy indeed in spite of the fact that we were still some distance from it. 

 

 As we began to shorten that distance towards that ‘lit up’ tor I felt a strong sense of apprehension, a creepy ‘sixth sense’ that we were driving somehow into a dangerous situation.  This ‘sixth sense’ had never failed me in the past and had in fact had undoubtedly in the past  saved my life.   

 

I said nothing to my brother of my inner feelings but as we drew closer to that ‘halo of light’ behind that tor  that ‘uncomfortable’ feeling intensified.  I didn’t want panic to spread among us and for one very real reason being the road was impossible for me to make a reverse turn. 

 

  It was a good eighteen inches above the boggy moor, far too deep a drop to permit the wheels of my car to access the surface of the moor.  I was intent thus upon looking for a place where maybe there was somewhere that we could indeed make a reverse-turn

 

 The minutes passed and as we were drawing closer to where we would be more or less directly opposite that tor so my trepidation increased and was then reinforced by my brother voicing that he ‘had a bad feeling about continuing and that perhaps we should turn back?’  I didn’t answer him but was driving slowly as I was too intent on looking for a spot where we could safely make that reverse-turn without the rear wheels falling off the concrete road. I had reduced speed as I searched.  Again, my brother suggested that we ‘turn back’.  Maybe three times or more he repeated his warning before I ‘exploded’ in anger fuelled by fear and frustration that “I can’t ***** well turn around, the road’s too narrow and too high to reverse turn.” 

 

 Jim then suggested he would get out to look for somewhere and I stopped the car to let him out. Still I said nothing.  Then it happened.  The tor was still ahead of and high above that narrow road we were travelling on.  Glancing up and ahead at the tor I saw something that turned my blood ice-cold.  I saw vast, countless numbers of ‘pairs of red eyes’ brightly lit like rear bicycle-lamps, all distinctly paired and moving at a terrific pace down from where that (undoubted) some kind of UFO sat behind that tor.

 

A memory instantly surfaced as I stared at that vast hoard of ‘red eyes’, a memory of that horrific alien encounter, those two aliens down there in the bottom of the Devil’s Punchbowl in early January Nineteen Fifty Nine.  I had not seen the ‘red eyes’ down in that ‘Bowl’ but Dennis had. 

 

Now, up there on Dartmoor that memory of being with Den and his description of those ‘red eyed’ small aliens, returned to me.  Memory of the two large entities being with them was enough to put much fear into me as I watched the vast droves of ‘red eyes’ pouring down the steep slope from that tor.  That they were some distance ahead of us made me feel that we could safely outpace them in the car. I had now no option but to attempt that ‘reverse turn’.

 

The exact procession of events I have to admit are somewhat confusing but I feel that this description in pretty well close to actuality.  Reverse turning the car ‘impossibly’ off that narrow service road, Jim telling me it was ‘ok to drive off the road onto the surface of the moor’ which I deemed unworkable but with no further choice I reversed ‘off’ the road and the car fell onto it’s chassis, the wheels spinning helplessly above the surface of the moor.  All the time my eyes were riveted on the horde of ‘red eyes’ pouring like a vast river down that steep terrain from that tor.  I felt acutely sick and also that I need to ‘vacate’ from the ‘other end’ also.  The result of intense fear.  Then came that sudden ‘drop’ off the road with the wheels spinning helplessly.  We were now ‘sitting ducks’ and I was lost for an answer other than quelling that awful hopeless compulsion to jump out of the car and run.

 

 I felt instinctively that these ‘red eyed’ fast moving ‘creatures’ were the ‘army of workers’ that were the emissaries of the tall, floating aliens that Den and I had encountered back in 1959 at the Punchbowl – of that I had not the slightest doubt.  We had escaped them then and now we had to escape them again – which of course we did. 

 

This time my brother  Jim had lifted the rear of that heavy vehicle with a strength borne of sheer terror and he’d literally thrown the car out of that ditch back onto the road, but for which I believe we’d have never again been seen. 

 

My driving at speed to the top of the very next hill, stopping the car atop the ‘rise’ in case of ‘losing’ the engine and being unable to re-start it, we could then coast ‘down’ that hill and thus let out the clutch at speed to re-start the engine.  I was taking no chances of losing electric power from the car-battery.  Atop that hill Jim and I got out of the car (standing behind the open doors ready to dive back in) and we watched those ‘red eyes’ appear in the distance as they continued their pursuit of us.  When they were at a distance still but very much closer, we’d get back inside the car and drive away to the top of  the next hill and again get out of the vehicle and again watch for those ‘red eyes’ to reappear and so on maybe ‘three or four times’ until the town of Okehampton lay before us only then our ‘red eyed’ pursuers gave up.  They had abandoned their pursuit of us. 

 

I do not know why I encountered these strange creatures twice in my life or why both times were when I was with one of my brothers. I do know I am thankful both times we all got away.

 

Life moved on and my family started to spread across the world. My brother Dennis moved to Australia with his family and I visited him whenever I could.

 

Twice while visiting  in Australia I camped in the ‘bush’ with my then ‘fifteen year old’ nephew Trevor and twice we experienced very strange UFO occurrences. These events  took place in 1973. 

 

The first camping trip was at the ‘YouYangs’ National Park and the second was at the ‘Otway Ranges’.  At the ‘YouYangs’ National Park we experienced a UFO ‘hovering’ invisibly, close-by. My brother Dennis dropped his son Trevor and I off and we would hike out in to the bush to hunt together knowing Dennis would return at the arranged time in a few days to bring us back home. 

 

The encounter with the odd craft took place  when we were out with our .22 rifles after rabbits.  It happened after a day of hunting and cooking and eating our catch.

 

The UFO itself was silent and invisible, stationary and poised at no great distance above us, perhaps ‘fifty to one hundred feet’ above the ground and just ahead of us. 

 

 It was Trevor who first drew my attention to it.  It was dark and Trevor had said “hey Bri do you see that light up ahead?”  I didn’t take much notice, not having seen anything myself and besides which we were in an isolated area of bushland with a profusion of scrub around us as we sought to keep to the narrow track of a former river bed in order to be able to find our way back to our tent after dark.  It had been daylight as we’d set out but then eventually darkness was upon us by ‘six o’clock’ in the evening. 

 

We had pushed on in the darkness when suddenly Trevor had drawn my attention to the ‘lights’.  I hadn’t taken him seriously as I stared ahead in the semi darkness.  The sky had been clear and brilliant with stars and it was possible to see to travel in that star-light.  I cannot recall whether there was a moon visible.  I  stared ahead at the lights Trevor had first noticed then suddenly, two beams of intense ‘white light’ just like daylight beamed down to the ground from this unseen ‘object’ just a hundred yards ahead of us.

 

 The two beams moved around independent of each other . Trevor spoke in a hushed voice “hey Bri they’re searching for us!” and indeed to all intent and purpose they looked as though they were indeed searching the ground just ahead of where we were standing. 

 

 Then the  tumultuous sounds of bird-life began calling, fooled as they were into thinking it was daylight.  The melodious notes of the Australian magpie distinctly ringing out loudest of all.  I had my tape-recorder strapped around my neck.  This was a heavy unit even though it was portable, it was switched to ‘record’.  The two beams of ‘daylight’ then came together on the ground, still a hundred yards or so ahead of us. 

 

Suddenly as if they had  located our position, both beams of light  travelled rapidly across the ground towards us.  Instinctively I knew that once caught in those two beams of light we would never escape.

 

We  both ran the moment the beams lifted to swing rapidly towards where we both stood.  We ran blindly into the scrub-covered bushes to our ‘right’, then described a wide u turn so as to bring ourselves back on the ‘trail’ that would essentially lead us back to our tent.  Following that dried-bed of the river we could find our way back to the tent in that semi darkness which was the best way of finding the path back to the twin peaks of the ‘You Yangs’ which was close to where our tent was pitched. We did not have a compass nor a map and the territory was virtually unknown to us.  

 

As we ran, panic-stricken and blindly, the ground beneath me suddenly ‘opened up’ and gave way beneath my feet as I plunged down a large sandy bottomed crater.  I was badly winded, my ribs bruised and my rifle had plunged deep into the sandy bottom of that hole, thus rendering my .22 rifle unusable due to the sand in the barrel and in the breach.

 

Trevor’s voice was calling for me, he sounded frightened.  Painfully I hauled myself to the top of that crater and with me limping and gasping for breath we continued our flight back in the direction from which we had come, following that dried-up river bed. 

 

 As we hurried along Trevor indicated that my tape-recorder was likely giving our position away and I thus switched it off.  We were a good ‘three hour’ walking distance from where our tent was pitched and we walked, tired, frightened and in silence making our way back to our tent.

 

On finally arriving at out tent, we climbed the steep gradient above where that ‘dried-up river bed’ led us back to where our tent was pitched.  At long last we arrived at the incline above which was our tent and upon entering I seized some rags and oil and hastily set about removing the sand from my rifle and oiled it then with my rifle loaded with eleven rounds of .22 ammunition I sat on the ‘rise’ that overlooked the ‘dried-up river bed’ and sat there with Trevor for one hour looking back in the direction from whence we had come.  My decision to keep that one hour ‘look out’ being that I didn’t know whether we had been followed back to our tent where we had to sleep. 

 

I had nightmarish visions of being awakened from sleep by that beam of white light as we slept and I did not want to be taken by surprise hence our decision to wait and watch for ‘one hour’ before turning-in.  The hour passed without any further sighting of those beams and we returned to the tent and the comfort of our sleeping-bags.

 

Fortunately we slept undisturbed until the ‘sing song’ cries of the Australian magpies broke-in musically upon my slumber – momentarily startling me before I realized that dawn had broken and the birds were ‘welcoming’ the rising Sun.  I believe we were picked-up by my brother Dennis a few hours later that same day, thankfully we did not have to remain there another night.

 

Our second attempted  camping expedition in the Bush took place further away, one hundred miles out from Melbourne at the Otway Ranges where Den was kind enough to run us in his car . One again he planned on picking us up one week later.

 

We camped close by a large lake or reservoir as we would require water.  Our first task as always was to build a camp fire with which to boil the ‘brown’ colored water from the lake as well as to cook our rations. 

 

The week passed without incident and seemingly all too quickly.  We trekked and hunted and undertook the many chores that were necessary to our camping out in the bush lands of beautiful Australia. 

 

We’d pass the time at night, chatting and/or reading.  Twelve hours was a rather long night and always somewhat eerie with the sounds of bush animals and the night birds.  The otherwise quiet and stillness was nice if at times a little creepy when one had to leave the tent to answer a ‘call of nature’ or to put wood on the fire. 

 

With darkness at 1800hrs it always made the night seem long.  The week however passed and all too soon it was our last night under canvas.  The day had in fact been rather strange, that last day before Den was due to arrive and collect us.  For one thing, the birds all fell silent that morning of that last day. 

 

A strange eerie feeling of unease made itself felt and Trevor remained ‘in his sack’ all of that day virtually.  He was reading a rather thick paperback – about UFO’s. Definitely not the kind of reading to appeal to me in the atmosphere of that ‘day before’ we were to be picked up.  “Hey Bri?”  Trevor’s voice broke in upon my thoughts as I lay on my sleeping-bag, casually reading something myself.  I turned to look at him and he said “listen to this”  He proceeded to relate a rather disturbing account of a UFO abduction so far as I remember.  He then added “guess where?”  He then said “one hundred miles from Melbourne!”  And how far were we from Melbourne?  Why, ‘one hundred miles!’  I admonished him half jokingly for reading such a book considering where we were.  However, we took solace in that a circle of one hundred miles from Melbourne could be just about anywhere and not necessarily where we were camping.  I closed my eyes to sleep, eagerly awaiting the dawn of the following day.

 

My eyes flickered open as I lay in my sleeping-bag.  Something, had awoken me.  I looked across at Trevor – he too was wide awake and staring questioningly back at me.  I knew only too well that ‘inbuilt’ sixth-sense that always served to awaken me when ‘danger’ threatened.  I would awaken with all my senses alert and not as from a sleep drowsily.  .  I strained my ears as a sound reached me.  I could see that Trevor likewise had heard what I had.  Something, or ‘someone’ was moving through the densely covered bush where I had collected the firewood from earlier that evening. 

 

I could not figure out what it might be?   The noise it  made sounded enormously heavy and ponderous.  Loud snapping sounds of branches breaking beneath the feet of whatever it was that was alarmingly making its way towards our tent. 

 

My heart was racing and I leapt out of my sleeping bag and seizing my rifle and my knife I crouched at the rear end of our tent at the ready.  The sheath-knife was to cut my way out of the rear of the tent if ‘whatever it was’ tried to enter the tent.  What the hell could it be?

 

  It was so heavy that the very ground shook under it’s colossal weight.  That ground of compacted earth and leaves made no sound under our boots. Trevor likewise had now gotten out of his sleeping-bag and we both crouched, too scared to discover what was outside our flimsy, canvas tent. 

 

Whatever had approached our tent was enormously heavy.  It walked slowly and ponderously around the tent after first approaching the zipped-up entrance in front of which, a safe distance away was our camp-fire, burning brightly stoked -up as it was in order to last throughout the night.  Thus in the morning we would simply put dead wood in the red ashes at the bottom to get the fire going to boil the water for our much needed coffee.

 

Three times this huge ‘thing on two legs’ walked slowly and ponderously around our tent.  My feelings were an intense mixture of fear, disbelief and yet profound curiosity to know what this ‘thing‘ could be.  It sounded like an ‘elephant walking on two legs’ that was my thoughts of our yet unseen ‘visitor’.

 

At any moment I expected the tent to be flattened or the zipped-up entrance to be rudely and violently torn open hence my knife to cut a way out of the back of that tent.  Then, those ponderous heavy footfalls slowly retreated back the way that ‘it’ had come.  I did not have the courage to unzip that entrance to look out even though I was so desperately curious to know just what that ‘monstrous’ two-legged ‘thing’ could possibly have been.  I was not a kangaroo for sure. 

 

We waited until first light and quickly got our equipment together and made our way to our pickup point where my brother awaited our arrival. As we talked about the event of the night before my brother reminded me that we were not the first in the area to report strange large creatures walking on two feet invading campsites. It was thought to be a Yeti or big foot of the bush area which made us wonder if that could have been our mysterious huge heavy footed visitor the night before.  

 

I had a few other experiences during my camping excursions that eventually ended my desire to be alone in the bush or anywhere as I learned that we are not alone on this planet and I had no plans on making it easy to continue brushing up with things I did not understand or want to do battle with or be taken by. I have seen things I could not explain and knew they were not after my welfare.

 

My family and I have encountered other strange events over the years , things of ghostly unknown origins.  One thing for sure I will never forget the hundreds if not more red glowing eyes that pursued me not once but twice in my life. I will be happy to never see them again.  I also know as I have told Chris Holly, that I also know never to say never as you never know what will happen next! “

It is hard to say what Brian encountered over his lifetime. I do think the UFO and red eyed creatures that Brian and his family came across twice in their time were not a coincidence but more something that intentionally wanted to have a close encounter with him and his family members.

The events in the wooded desolate areas that Brain ran across could have been many things from ghostly to bigfoot of unknown creatures that we still do not understand. I do know that they were alarming enough to end Brains camping days. 

I know this man has to be a brave man to have faced and survived the encounters he has had in life and sadly know there are others who were not as lucky as Brain and his family members and have simply vanished to never be seen again who may have come face to face with the same beings Brain did.  

I thank Brain Birch for taking the time to share the strange events of his life and hope by doing so others will realize it is best to stay alert to your surroundings and aware of who and want is around them at all times. I also hope the stories of Brains encounters will bring to light the fact it is always best to flee and keep your focus at all times when facing off with the unknown so one day when you are 75 you will also be able to tell how you survived things we can only call unknown and were able to live to tell your story too.

Be careful out there and again thank you Brain.