In one of the most hair-raising and detailed Bigfoot encounter accounts I have ever heard, a U.S. Marine platoon is pinned down during a national park operation by a pair of massive Bigfoot.
"I've feared the repercussions of divulging this story for well over 20 years even after my discharge from active service. We were told the penalty would be without mercy. It was considered sensitive classified information.
In August 1995 my U.S. Marine platoon was conducting our third counter-narcotic JTF operation in a pre-selective national forest in California in a location I will keep secret. The past two summers yielded solid results with the identification and eventual eradication of several big-dollar marijuana grows in two different national forests. Federal law prohibits the military from acting as a police force. We were armed, but we were not allowed to engage or make arrests. Our job was to covertly insert into pre-designated areas chosen because of their remoteness and prior activity and from gathered intelligence of Mexican cartel informants who had knowledge of growth sites in and around this particular national forest. Our job was to find a water source, follow it, look for signs, and locate any growth sites, then set up an observation post and gather intelligence and monitor activity until the state and local law enforcement made the bust. We're only allowed to use deadly force if our lives were physically threatened and even then it would be a slippery slope, even if they spotted us and confronted us. We would insert wearing civilian clothes and posing as hikers or campers.
We were in four-man teams on three-day patrols. I and my assistant team leader carry shotguns and nine millimeters. The two Junior Marines carried M16s A2s. We had thermals, GPS, compass, map, and protractors. We had a radio and a sound phone. We carried water filtration pumps and fire tents because of the threat of forest fire that year. It was a very dry summer. We did not carry a lot of ammunition. Our goal was to not be seen or get out of Dodge as quick as possible after finding the stream which ended up being a trickle due to the drought.
We pressed on for about two hours. We walked in the stream bed walking on each side. We're near vertical 50-foot walls. We navigated around an extremely wide curve in the stream that was on point and as I came around a giant boulder in the middle of the stream bed I saw directly in front of me brown fur and large claws. I raised my weapon which alerted the rest of the team and it was a bear, a dead bear lying on his stomach with his head nearly ripped off, twisted so it was facing up towards the sky. His four limbs draped over the sides of the flat elevated rock In the stream. It had large chunks of meat torn out along the sides of his spine and a gut pile. It was a gruesome sight. I didn't understand what I was looking at.
We took defensive positions because my only thought was poachers are Mexican growers looking for fresh meat after spending several months tending and guarding a grow site. My assistant, a Native American from the Navajo Nation in New Mexico, was the first to spot two sets of gigantic bare-toed footprints in the damp soil all around the stream bed. We followed them to the edge of the western side of the stream and they went straight up the near-vertical wall to the top. A person would need climbing gear to achieve that ascent. No ropes, no gear. Just disturbed dirt and rock from where they climbed straight up. We heard no one running, no one climbing, no rocks following. Just dead silence. A terrifying feeling of dread came over the team. My assistant looked very concerned. To make matters worse I asked him what the hell was going on and he said, "This ain't good boss."
The footprints were enormous. One set was clearly bigger than the other. I said to my assistant, "Why are they barefoot?" I still didn't get it. He suggested we re-route and change direction. He said we were somewhere where we shouldn't be and we're asking for trouble. He said they were wild men and this was their kill and their land and they're probably watching us as we speak. I looked dumbfounded and clueless and he whispered in my ear so that the other two junior guys wouldn't hear and freak out. Sasquatch. But he called them something else and for the life of me, I can't remember. It was something in his native tongue.
I felt like something was watching us now. Or was it my imagination? The air in the woods had changed. The woods got quiet. I heard no birds or crickets, even the mosquitoes stopped biting. I had an area of operation to Recon and a mission to accomplish. If I had radioed in that we were altering our route and told them why I would have been relieved of my responsibility and embarrassed in front of the entire platoon. I said we're moving out, let's pick up the pace and get to our next checkpoint before 1600 hours.
As we move to our next checkpoint I remember smelling the overpowering stench of rotting garbage. It was intense. It seemed to be everywhere. It was pungent to the point it almost made me sick. But then, it just went away as quick as it came. Things remained tense and uncertain. But when we discovered empty bags of fertilizer and several yards of gardening hose along the edge of the stream bed it alerted us to the possibility of a grow site and we soon forgot all about the weirdness that just happened. We followed the hose down from the stream onto a game trail and into a clearing about 200 yards off the stream. That was when we first smelled the unmistakable skunky aroma of marijuana. We could all see bits of fluorescent material through the trees which we assumed was a tent. So we have a grow site.
We did an area reconnaissance of 360 degrees and we found an ideal overwatch position on an elevated plateau about 75 yards from the growers' camp. We also spotted the pot field. I estimated at least 300 to 500 plants. We radioed everything in and set up our listening and observation posts. The crazy thing was there were no growers and we heard not a sound and from the appearance of the camp it seemed unusually unkept, almost abandoned. Something didn't add up. Did they spot us? Did they make a run for it even though these sites were cartel owned? These sites were usually operated by poor farmers smuggled into the woods with minimal supplies and tasked with living the entire growing season in the woods until harvest. After examining the camp and tying up some loose ends we kind of determined it had been abandoned for some time. But we had to assume they'd be back or were still in the area.
Around midnight I completed my two-hour security shift and I fell asleep almost immediately. While sleeping I remember hearing my guys speaking nervously, scared and confused, arguing and contemplating. I thought it was a dream, but in reality, they had a situation unfolding less than an hour after falling asleep. I awoke to a blood-curdling scream that punched me right in the gut. I awoke to three panicked Marines with the most terrified expressions that I've ever seen on grown men. I asked in my most pissed off, half asleep, angry voice, "Who the F screamed?" I thought our cover was blown and the operation was a wash. Their mouths hung open without a single word muttered.
I heard the scream again! I never heard anything like this. It was deep and guttural. It went through you like a sonic boom. It was like a woman screaming but deeper and louder. The garbage odor got stronger like we were lying in it. My assistant said, "12 o'clock movement." I got my weapon and grabbed the night vision. After fumbling around with the goggles I managed to get them turned on and I put them to my face. Now we had to scan for a couple of seconds. I had a heat source almost immediately and it was huge. I thought 'bear' but it walked from behind the tree, then crouched down real stealthy, then down to all fours behind the growers' tents. I knew it was no bear. It kept raising up peaking from behind the two tents. The growers' tents were set up side by side. It obviously didn't account for us having night vision and it stood up straight. There was no moon and it was pitch black out. I could see it fully.
I estimate this thing at 10 feet, maybe five feet across, with long lanky arms, and no neck. I can still remember how long its arms were in relation to its body it was not proportional at all. It started growling and it still didn't sink in what I was looking at. The growling was deep and continuous. I yelled at it. It immediately squatted back down behind the tents like it was thinking to itself, "Oh, they see me." Just then, like an explosion, it came crashing through the tents charging straight at us. The other three Marines were fumbling around in the dark for their flashlights. We were still grouped, but everyone was looking for gear and weapons. I chambered a shell and remember the distinct sound of the M16 charging handle to the left of me sliding home. At least we had two weapons on it. I dropped the night vision. I did not strap them to my face, instead, I held them there. But as I drew my weapon I let them go. I told my assistant to grab the night vision down by my knees somewhere. The only way we could see this freight train coming at us was because it had crashed through the tents. One of the tents got hung up on it and it was being carried around with it as it charged. It charged maybe 25 to 30 yards before it made a hard left and straight into the tree line. It must have snared the hijacked tent and the tent was now hung up in a tree about eight feet off the ground.
It didn't go far into the woods. The crashing and snapping lasted about three seconds and stopped. It was still close. it started growling again and the volume would go up and down and up and down. The panic was hitting us all hard. I was starting to worry about one of my guys discharging his weapon and shooting one of us accidentally. I called up her names and where their positions were in relation to mine. It was so dark and was so confusing. I wanted all of us elbow to elbow and accounted for, with weapons pointed in a safe direction and not at the back of my head.
This creature started making a different noise now, like a chattering Chinese type language followed by an occasional 'whoop,' then a 20-second growl back to the weird chattering. It was so odd, terrifying, and unreal all at the same time. I was trying to keep myself together. I wanted to gain accountability and control and make sure I was making good decisions even with a monster 50 yards to my three o'clock. I was still worried about the consequences brought forth by my command or making a bad decision.
We heard a loud crack followed by a second or third crack and then the unmistakable sound of a tree falling. It had dropped a huge tree with ease. It crashed down with a thud into the camp area about 50 yards from us. I asked for the radio so I could inform the command of the situation. So one of my Marines was fumbling around trying to locate the radio. My eyes were glued to the area from where the tree had fallen. I couldn't even blink. I was absolutely terrified. Again, I asked for the radio. We had two weapons on the thing at three o'clock. My assistant was scanning with the night vision and the fourth Marine was now trying to reach someone on the radio. The last radio check was at 2200 hours and we were doing four-hour calm checks. He managed to get someone on the radio but the signal was garbled. He kept repeating that there was something attacking us and we need help. They asked to speak with the TL. Actually me.
I stuck out my left hand grabbed the radio, and informed command we had unknown hostiles probing our observation post. I didn't know what to say. They asked about numbers and weapons and visual identification. I told them unknown but we need the rapid response team and an emergency Evac immediately. Just then a scream comes from our six o'clock. It was a similar scream to the first but this one was closer we had abandoned situation awareness and forgot about covering the six o'clock. We couldn't see the second one nor can we hear anything other than the initial scream. The one on our three o'clock started moving as it rounded our position making its way to six o'clock from where the second scream came from. I turned on my Mag light that was attached to the barrel of my shotgun and followed this thing as it ran on all fours like a chimpanzee. It moved with such speed and agility and just plowed everything in its way to the ground.
For the first time, I saw it. It looked brownish red and it was immense. It had huge thick legs and massive shoulders. You could hear the impacts on the ground every time it advanced. The speed was incomprehensible. It got from point A to point B in less than 10 seconds. It was now 50 yards toward six o'clock behind a group of large fir trees. We could hear its breathing with massive lungs and a massive chest.
"Can we shoot Sergeant?" one of my Marines asked. I said, "No! Hold your fire Lieutenant!" Command wanted me on the radio but I couldn't move. It began chattering again. I raised my shotgun with the Mag light still on and made eye contact with this monster peering up from behind the fur tree. It snarled at me and began growling. Its hair had twigs and leaves in it. It had patches of bare skin like it had mange. It had no neck and huge black eyes. The jaw muscles on each side of its face were huge. It was the biggest thing I'd ever seen as it started growling. A different growl joined in. I raised the gun higher and followed the center for a tree up towards the top and there it was the second one. It had climbed this fur tree and it was about 75 feet in the air. It managed to get behind us and climb a tree without a sound.
All military discipline had gone out the window. We all had flashlights turned on and we were yelling at each other and at these beings. One of my Marines was yelling, "Get out of here!" Another kept saying, "WTF! WTF!" I ordered everyone to gather their gear and get on their backpacks and we backed up into the main campsite area trying to put a little more distance between us and these things. I ordered to gather as much wood as possible. There was a lot laying around from the fallen tree. The tree this creature fell was dead and broken into hundreds of pieces, they were strewn about, I started a campfire which was probably a terrible idea given the fire conditions that summer and it's the last thing Marines would do on a real-life nighttime operation, but this was no ordinary mission. It was just so dark and I was hoping the extra light and the sight of a fire would sway these things from advancing any further. I truly feel they're engaging us, looking for a weakness or an opening.
The large one stayed put as the second one would pace out to its left and right. Its head kept jerking around like it was viewing us from multiple angles. It was terrifying how it jerked its head around never taking its eyes off of us. It came down from the tree in less than two seconds. It was faster than a chipmunk and a hundred times the size.
At this time help was about two hours away they were going to meet us about a mile north on an old forestry road that we found on the map. When they were one hour out that's when we would make our move and head north to meet up with my unit. It was fairly even terrain and had no major obstacles. Back-and-forth communication with my unit command only created more confusion for everyone not involved. If I were them I'd be thinking the same thing, these guys are crazy.
We made our move out of the campsite. We heard them follow. We left the fire going. I remember thinking to myself I hope I didn't start a forest fire. But the lingering fire gave us the courage to venture into the dark woods. My assistant was an ace at land navigation and I took up the rear with the night vision now properly strapped to my face. I thought about a warning shot or two but even that would exact a severe penalty for discharging live rounds in a national forest without a legitimate reason. Even though we had a reason it would have landed me in the NJP. I had weapons, but I might as well have been unarmed. Using them would have gotten us in trouble and would have only angered these beings because anything short of a .50 caliber round would only piss these things off. They were that big.
They didn't harass us much on our track out. I figured it would have been a prime opportunity for them to make a move but they kept their distance. But we were still close enough that the pungent smell of rotting trash still hung in the air and at one point one of them advanced out in front to our left flank and held its position as we passed.
We eventually met up with the response team. My platoon Sergeant was angry and full of questions. But as these beings made their presence known he relented. In a way, I was glad these things followed us because I highly doubt they would have believed us. Who would? They arrived in two SUVs and an eight-passenger van as these things screamed and broke limbs. My platoon Sergeant acted unusually calm and accounted for everyone and all their equipment and weapons. He would occasionally look in their direction but made no inquiries about what these things were. He was a very calm and cool combat veteran and wanted to get good accountability for personnel and equipment. Ask questions later.
The response team members set up a perimeter and I could hear them asking amongst themselves what the hell are we looking at? Even during a Bigfoot encounter, we were professionals and it was done by the book. Several Marines kept their weapons out, the ready round in the chamber. But I had unloaded and made safe mine along with the rest of my team. I made sure all my guys go to the van before I entered. The platoon Sergeant rounded out the response team and they began to load up into the SUVs. I finally heard the platoon Sergeant ask another sergeant, "WTF is going on?" We drove out into one of the blackest darkest nights I've ever seen.
All of a sudden a huge rock smashed through the front windshield of the lead SUV. The driver cut the wheel hard left and they ended up rolling over down a small hill. The vehicle ended up on its side again. Every Marine present exited the vehicles and set up a defensive perimeter around the downed SUV. One Marine received a broken collarbone and a minor concussion. Now things got REAL!
At this point, the Sheriff and Forestry departments were en route to our location. National Guard Blackhawks were on standby for the entire month of operations and they dispatched one chopper to provide aerial security. We were to remain in place, maintain 100 security and wait for daylight. By 7 AM the cavalry had arrived and we were finally on our way out of the forest.
I'd never talked about this incident, even amongst ourselves. The terrified look on some of these guys' faces is still burned into my memory. The sounds and smells I experienced that night along with the terrifying looks of these beings will be with me until the day I die."
Transcribed source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XGrEK5Kh3N0
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