A ghost on a military base? by J. S. Marlo

J. S. Marlo BWL Author Page

During the Second World War, HMCS Cornwallis (later renamed CFB Cornwallis) was the largest naval training base in the British Commonwealth. Built on the southern shore of the Annapolis Basin in Nova Scotia and commissioned in 1942, the military training base closed in 1994.

In the late 1980s, my husband and I enjoyed a three-year posting at CFB Cornwallis. During that time, we attended many functions inside the Officers' Mess. It was a beautiful building (pic on the left), rich in history, and haunted by the ghost of a young woman. I was fascinated by the sad story of that young woman who allegedly hanged herself in one of the upstairs bedrooms after her lover, a sailor in the British Navy during World War II, abandoned her to go back to his wife.

The legend of her ghost was very much alive. While I didn’t know of anyone who had ever seen her, there were reports of strange activities inside the Mess, but was her ghost really roaming the Officers' Mess and only showing herself to unfaithful married men?

Despite all the research I did, I couldn’t find any evidence that a woman ever killed herself inside the Mess, but the basement of the Base Commander’s Residence did shelter grave markers. The dead no longer rest in the basement, their remains were moved to a different burial site, but two of the markers still stand side by side, each engraved with the names of two young children. The four siblings—Edward (1 month), Amelia (1 yr & 6 months), Gilbert (3 yrs), and W.C. (3 yrs)—died between 1850 and 1858.

The legend of the ghost and the grave markers inspired me to write Misguided Honor, my latest novel which was released last week.

In Misguided Honor, Becca Shea sneaks into Cornwallis and travels back in time to 1941 where she meets the young heart-broken woman in the days leading up to her tragic death.

To bring the story of the ghost to life, I took some liberties with history. Among other things, I gave Cornwallis a fictional past as a private shipyard, moved the buildings around, changed their layouts, and delayed the closure of the base. I wish I had unearthed the origin of the legend, and though I didn't, I'm convinced something dreadful happened a long time ago in the Officers' Mess—or else the legend wouldn't have been born.

Happy reading!

JS

 J. S. Marlo's Website

Cemetery: spooky or fascinating? by J.S. Marlo

J. S. Marlo BWL Author Page

Call me weird, but I love visiting cemeteries where people have been buried—unburied and reburied—for centuries. Day or night, graveyards are quiet and peaceful, but I'll admit I've never ventured in one in the middle of the night alone. I might find it spooky...

While I was in Paris, I made a point for visiting the catacombs with my daughter. It was eerie to see the skeletons neatly stacks into a solid wall so they wouldn’t tumble. Some of these bones or skulls were three or four hundred years old. Though I write romantic suspense (there are a fair amount of dead people and old bones in my stories) I've never googled how long it took for bones to decompose. Maybe I should have, because I would have guessed way less than four hundred years.

While seeing bones and skulls is interesting, I’m most fascinated with grave markers and the inscriptions on them. There are a lot to learn from the names, descriptions, and dates.

During a three-day vacation in Iceland, hubby and I rented a car and toured the island. In the countryside, we stumbled onto an old church dating back to the middle ages. Behind it was a small cemetery. Graves were marked with wooden crosses or headstones. The oldest grave dated back to the 11^th century while the most recent burial had occurred in my lifetime. I was amazed that most of the inscriptions had weathered the centuries. It was interesting to see how some names change through time (an "S" that disappears, or a "D" that becomes a "T"), and to travel from one generation to the next and discover the family connections between the dead. Some had died young while others had lived to see their seventieth or eightieth birthday. To be honest, I was surprised to see so many of them reach an advanced age during the 12th or 13th century.

The early markings on the gravestones behind that little Icelandic church fascinated me, especially the ones dating back to the middle ages. I have seen many ways to write dates, but  that was my first encounter with this specific form. I wish I had taken a picture, but the battery on my phone was dead. I wrote an example of the markings on a piece of paper (see photo).  In that example, the person would have been born on April 17, 1263 and would have died on October 30, 1318.

My current story "Misguided Honor", which I'm hoping to finish by Christmas, revolves around an unusual  graveyard near Annapolis Royal in Nova Scotia.  I've lived near Annapolis Royal for three years and my second daughter was born there. Back then, I was too busy raising my young children to spend time in graveyards. If only I'd known then what I know now...

Last year my hubby built my family tree. My ancestors arrived in Canada in the early 1600s. In my youth I'd heard stories about some of the males marrying native women, so I wasn't surprised to learn I indeed possess native blood, though it's very diluted after thirteen generations. What I didn't expect was to learn that a big branch on my father side settled in Annapolis Royal in the mid 1600s then fled to Quebec in the mid 1700s to avoid the great deportation. I had no idea that many of my ancestors were Acadians. These first settlers from whom I descend are probably buried in Annapolis Royal cemetery—a few streets from the hospital where my daughter was born more then two hundred and fifty years later.

I wish I had known when I lived in Annapolis Royal that I had come full circle. Now I long for a chance to walk into that cemetery. Maybe one day...

JS

 J. S. Marlo's Website