CHAPTER II

CASES WHERE SOME LINK WITH COMMUNICATORS EXISTED

THE cases recorded in this chapter are not given in order of sequence, but are classed together because in each instance there was some previous link with the communicator or his family; this arrangement has been carried out in order that readers may more easily judge of the evidential value of the communications.

The first case is that of Lieut. Baker (reported in Light), who was a friend of Christopher and Frank Thompson, and personally known to myself.

He spent the day with me on September 27th, 1917; in the course of that day he referred once or twice to Christopher who was presumed dead since April of the previous year, and mentioned his own strong conviction that he himself would be killed shortly after his return to France.

His leave was over three days later, and it was not until October 8th that my attention was again directed to him in the following way. On the night of October 8th (1917), towards the dawn of the 9th, I dreamt that I saw Lieut. Baker lying on a stretcher, apparently dead; his head was turned aside, away from me; several people were bending over him. I seemed to be watching the scene, and noticed that Christopher was also standing near.

I learnt afterwards that Lieut. Baker was killed while flying, in the early morning of October 9th, 1917, but no further details were received by his family until some weeks later.

In the meantime I received the following communication by automatic writing, and was able to verify it later from letters written by the pilot and the chaplain.

On October 16th, 1917, I asked Christopher Thompson whether Lieut. Baker was able to communicate yet, and was told that he could not, but Christopher himself volunteered the following scraps of information: "Went so suddenly "..."Mentioned dentist."

The pilot's letter of November 10th stated:-

"We landed at once, and medical assistance arrived quickly; they said he must have died instantly."

I learnt from his sister, in reply to an enquiry, that the whole of his last day of leave had been spent at the dentist's.

On October 19th, Christopher reported as follows: "I am seeing him to-day.... He is so asleep still.... He thinks he is in a dug-out, poor old Baker.... He spoke once of you, and the darn(ed) war...she is on a hard chair...he was rambling."

Lieut. Baker had only recently joined the Flying Corps, and it would be natural that his mind should revert to a dug-out, which had been so familiar to him in the early part of the war.

The reference to the "hard chair" is in connection with September 27th, when we spent most of the day in the garden, and I sat on a rather upright chair, which at the time he offered to replace by a more comfortable one.

On the same day (October 19th) Christopher gave more particulars: "Leg hurt badly...soldier in plane with him survived."

From the pilot's letter, quoted above, we learnt that "He was shot in the stomach; it may have penetrated sideways," and the chaplain reported that "Pilot and machine landed safely."

Later on October:19th, and on November 4th, Lieut. Baker himself was able to write a little, giving a fuller account of what took place at the time of his death: "I was waiting for sound of aeroplane, and missed it, wind so strong." (This was written on October 19th.)

"I heard gun, and that was all...German plane sank so low in wind, came out of cloud. (Written on November 4th.)

Miss Baker verified the message of October 19th in writing to me on November 2nd: "The communique of the day he was killed stated that the 'aeroplanes went up in spite of rain and storm all day.'

We give extracts from the pilot's account, dated November 10th:

"A German fighting, machine was coming straight for us, out of a cloud, and firing at us. At that moment Baker stopped firing, and fell forward over his gun.... The first I knew of the attack was, that I heard a machine gun behind us, which sounded very close; another plane was diving to get under us; the clouds were very low, and at times we were practically in them."

Lieut. Baker also wrote through my hand (November 4th) that "Dalten lost big glass," which conveyed nothing to me at the time, but his sister explained later that an optician named Dalten (name altered) had failed to repair Lieut. Baker's goggles in time for him to take them back to France, and that he must have gone to the attack without them.

I have reported this case rather fully, as it shows how simple and natural communication can be.

Lieut. Baker has not communicated through me again, except to send a definite message to his sister when I was sitting with a medium, asking her not to overstrain herself at her work.

In the autumn of 1917 I was told of the death in action of a young officer named Sydney Pollock, whose relations were known to me by name only.

His mother had read Sir Oliver Lodge's Raymond, and after her son was killed, she naturally became interested in the possibilities of communication alter death.

I was introduced to Mrs. Pollock, by a mutual friend, and received some messages from her son at her request.

His mother had wondered whether he had met any of their relations, as there were so few on the "other side" who were nearly related. He reassured her on this point from the very first, and mentioned the names of two relations whom he had seen, describing one in the following words: "Uncle Tom is a dear, mother; I do like him awfully."

This uncle, describing Sydney in a later communication, wrote: "You are very well pleased with your son, and indeed he is a fine boy...he has the head of his father, the same broad forehead....Your boy is made of the right stuff." (Correct.)

"Uncle Tom" also gave an accurate description of his brother Nigel Pollock, Sydney's father, referring to his love of golf and a pipe, his keenness for politics, and his early grey hairs. (Correct.) Sydney and his mother had been very close friends, and it was apparently a great consolation to him to know that their friendship was unbroken, and that she still thought of him as alive.

About six months after his death he Wrote:

Mother, I say, do you think I am alive all the time? Don't forget to do so, as it is hard on us, jolly hard, to fight out the feeling dead, it is hateful to us chaps. Some have never been thought really alive by. a single relation, poor chaps."

Another young officer, killed in action, writing through my hand in December, 1916, was equally insistent on this point, sending the following message to his sister: "I want her to know I am not dead. I am alive. Did she think I was asleep? No, indeed, not I!"

In the following case it will be seen that the communicator, a Miss Mary Bardsley, was able to make use of the sensitive's clairvoyant powers to supplement the writing, which she found difficult.

I have in each case found it very hard, and it has generally proved unsuccessful, to get communication from a woman. Miss Bardsley died in December, 1916, after a short illness. On November 18th, 1917, she communicated in the following way. My friend and I were sitting facing a bookshelf on which (unknown to me) were some of Miss Bardsley's books, given after her death to my friend.

I had met Miss Bardsley once or twice, but my friend knew her very well, and had often discussed the subject of communication with her. The writing came very laboriously, and nothing definite or satisfactory came through.

Looking up during a pause, I saw a bright blue light in front of the bookshelf; as I watched it, it moved to a certain book (a Bible) and remained stationary.

I told my friend what I saw, as she was not able to see the light, and she said at once that* the book was Miss Bardsley's own Bible. A date wag then written, which might have been 1870 or 1878, the last figure was not clear.

We opened the Bible, and found the date 1878 on the first page, Then followed the chapter and verse of one of her favourite texts, correctly given; after this the blue light moved to two other books which had been specially valued by her.

We have not been able to try this experiment again, but it seems probable that great possibilities lie in this direction, and that some form of signalling by means of lights could be developed.