The faint throb of Lancaster Bombers returning in the morning mist from a bombing raid in Germany is heard over the old abandoned airfield. For these are the Ghost Squadrons
A dog runs to greet his master, even though he failed to return from an operational sortie decades ago.
A ghostly light flickers in a derelict control tower and in the distance the sound of young men laughing and singing.
There is a tear on the wind as you look and listen:
These are the tales of the Ghost Stations
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