Speaker 1: Okay, you all know I get these stories in people
just send me stories. I don't know hardly anyone who
sends me these stories, so I can attest to the
authenticity of a lot of stories, and I can't do
that with this one. However, if this one is true,
it is a remarkable, remarkable set of events, and I'm
going to share it with you, So the writer says,
let's see her. I've been wrestling with sharing this event
for a year now, but today will be as good
time as any. It's raining today and I don't feel
like fishing in the rain. This account of events will
be one of the most controversial reports ever told, but
needs to be spoken for the safety of our children.
My name is Sergeant Robert Woodford of the RCMP, or
Royal Canadian Mounted Police, and I'm retired as of December
twenty nineteen after thirty five years of service, which ensured
me of a maximum pension. I now reside in the
Gulf side of Florida with my dog, Rocko, who was
my service canine that also retired from the RCMP with me,
and this is where we spend our time, enjoying the
warmth and offshore fishing. I was stationed for my entire
length of service in South British Columbia, just west of Princeton.
This job was the best fit for me. It's not
that I dislike people. It's just that I don't feel
comfortable in crowds and I enjoy my solitude where I
can read, fish, hunt, work on my cars, and just
do me this job or working alone in the International
Space Station, where both jobs I coveted. I've never been
married and even had a desire to date, nor hang
out with the guys at the bar, attend sporting events
or birthday parties or Christmas parties. Nothing with people. My
typical day would be patrolling the highways, search and rescue,
tracking runners, finding contraband, anything but the warm and fuzzy
encounters with school kids or the public. The day of
this event was Tuesday, June twenty seventh, two thousand and seventeen.
I was doing my routine patrol of the Crow's Nest
Highway and the Chiquilahala. Think I pronounced that right? He
makes a note here. I know you have difficulty pronouncing
different Indian words. No crap, but you know what. I
get a lot of emails and suggestions from people. You know,
you can use Google word pronounce or all these different
kind of things. I don't really care. You know, it
doesn't make me feel insecure that I can't pronounce some words.
I just can't, and you're gonna either take me or
leave me. It doesn't bother me a bit. So if
you guys can stand it, I'm just gonna keep mispronouncing words.
But this word is cocahallas cocahalla anyway. This is the
British Columbia Highway three and British Columbia Highway five. I
got a call from dispatch of a reported naked child
running in the field, kilometers away from any homes or
campers along the highway. I responded to the call, but
the caller didn't stay on the scene, and I had
no idea where to look. I spent the remainder of
the shift, plus a couple of hours, driving up and
down Highway three, looking into the clearings and along the
streams and waterways for any sign of this child. It's
darkness started to creep over the eastern horizon. I decided
to call it a day and head home and chalk
the call of someone either pranking us or seeing a
tan black bear or a moose calf. Wednesday morning, I
informed the Post that I was going to stay in
the area of British Columbia Highway three for the day.
I was happy that I did, because I received a
call from dispatch at at fourteen fifteen of a naked
child in a field. Again, I requested that Dispatch contact
the caller and have them remain on the scene until
I arrived. When I got to the location, I was
met by missus Godfrey. She's an elderly former schoolteacher from Edmonton.
The caller gave me details of where the child was playing.
It was one hundred meters off the highway, and she
stated that he ran into the bush and that she
had called out to him. The next comment she made
gave me some real concerns though. She stated that as
he was running back to the tree line, he started
to run on two legs, and then he dropped down
to all fours like an eight. I've read many accounts
of children being raised by wolves, apes and monkeys, even
a bear, but I've never believed it could be true,
and I wondered how this was going to play out.
I returned to my SUVN grabbed my tracking backpack that
contained three bottles of water, a couple of packs of jerky,
a milar blanket, a hatchet, para cord, a machette, binoculars,
a flare gun, and a distress beacon just in case
something should happen to me. I then took up my
C seven, which is the Canadian cult version of the
M four, and the long tracking leash for my dog.
Roco began to get excited now that I had his
working leash and got himself all hyped up and ready
to go to work. Rocco was eager to get to
the trail until we got to where the teacher had
told me that she had seen the child. Rocco became
reluctant to follow. Rocco was a relentless tracker, but three
years ago, Rocco and three other dogs refused to go
past the point on a track that we had been
on for an hour. None of us had ever seen
these dogs give up and refuse to proceed. As a result,
we lost a five year old little girl. She was
never found. Missing. A child carried the weight of guilt,
and this one had the effect on the whole department.
It still does this was different, though he was following,
but not in his normal eager self. We were into
the trail for an hour and Roco was following the
trail at a consistent pace, but not in a rush.
I realized that this kid had circled back on us
twice and then double backed once, and then traveled upstream
and then back. The kid was staying down wind from us.
It's pretty smart, but not like a child in distress.
I would have believed that I was on the trail
of an escape convict trying to evade me. He knew
he was being tracked, so I decided to sit tight
for some time before pushing on. I wanted to put
him at ease. But thirty minutes later we were back
on the scent and he must have thought that we
had given up on him, because he stopped the evasive maneuvers.
It had now been two and a half hours since
we began the track when I could see a clearing
start to open ahead of us the three meters from
the edge. Roco snapped to the ground to alert me
of danger, and I knelt down beside Rocko and looked
ahead to see the child three hundred meters away, where
he broke out of the thicket alone and started up
a small incline into the old growth timber. To my surprise,
several other people came into view. None of them wore
a stitch of clothing. I looked through my field glasses
and I could make out what appeared to be four
young women and one young male, and several smaller children.
As the child approached the group, I saw a large
black bear like beast charge at him on two legs,
closing the distance between them at a remarkable pace. The
child ran toward the females and they all laid over
him and shielded him from the aggressor. The bee stood
over the pile of females and he roared, and it
was a roar like I had never heard before. I
could feel it. Rocco was scared. He urinated spontaneously and
then tried to retreat back to the suv, but was
unable to do so with my grip on his leash.
I thought for a moment about taking a shot at
the beast, but I didn't believe that the five point
five six round would bring the beast down. That turned
out to be a good move, because I began to
make out several more of these beasts around the group,
and one crossing the clearing two hundred and fifty meters
up wind of us. After roaring several more times, the
beast grabbed one of the females and pulled her away
from the pile and began to molest her. That is
a subtle way to describe it. It was actually more
violent than that. It was horrible. There was no way
that I could take on the entire troop of Sasquatches,
that's what they were. There were too many. To sit
there and watch these beasts abuse these people. Cost me
great shame and anxiety, but I would need help to
rescue these people, and I would have to fight another time.
If I hit my beacon and call for reinforcements, they
would not arrive until after art, and even their approach
would give this group ample warning to retreat and evade us.
Looking up at the sun starting to drop in the west,
I decided to retreat and make a plan. I pulled
out my phone and I pinned my location on the map.
On our way back to the SUV, A million thoughts
ran through my mind. If I reported this to my superiors,
they might not believe me. I could be removed from
duty and lose my pension, or even be sent to
a mental health hospital. On the other side of my
dilemma was to just walk away like I saw nothing
and play it safe. But that wasn't my way to
leave people in need, especially children that would have haunted
me forever. It would any man. Back at my vehicle,
I called the Sergeant Major and requested that he meet
me at the post in Princeton that evening. Sergeant Major
knew something was amiss. I'd never made this type of
request since I had been a signed to my post,
and he agreed to meet me. After recounting my afternoon
with the sergeant Major, I was expecting to have to
surrender my weapons and dog, but he simply told me
to go home and get some rest and I would
be called in the morning. That night was restless for
both Roco and myself, with neither of us eating much,
and what sleep we did get was riddled with tossing
and turning, and yes, even Roco was one restless puppy.
But the next morning the call came at five am.
I was instructed to meet the Corps. Sergeant major and
his team had an abandoned logging site sixteen kilometers from
the location of yesterday's encounter, and recount my sightings with
the team. The team I thought with Rocco Kennel. I
drove to the logging site and it was now an operation.
I saw over forty black SUVs with horse trailers, several
marked rcmpsuvs utility trailers, along with two military grade assault helicopters.
There were several large barrack style tents set up, The
horses were in temporary corrals, and a number of men,
all in black gray Camo uniforms with RCMP patches, cleaning weapons, cooking,
or sitting in groups talking. I had no problem determining
which trailer the command center was, and I headed straight
for it. As I stepped inside and closed the door,
I heard a voice from my right, Well, Bobby, you
got yourself into a mess this time, didn't you. Well,
I've always hated the names Bob or Bobby. My name
is Robert. So I turned to see who the voice
belonged to, and to my delight, it was a familiar face.
He was the core made sergeant in charge of this operation,
a man I knew from my training. Thirty three years before,
and I had no problem recognizing him. Looks like the
years have been good to you, CSM, and a nice
promotion I see, I said. Core Sergeant Major or CSM
took me over to the round table and introduced me
to his leadership team of five other Mounties and two
Americans that were part of adjoint operations between the two countries.
I retold every detail from yesterday and answered so many
questions from this group. I didn't know if they believe
me or not. The time was O nine hundred when
the CSM asked me to follow them to another trailer
with several satellite dishes on the roof, and inside that
trailer were several monitors lined up on four walls with
numbers on each monitor and one large monitor at the end.
Instructed the young man who was manning the monitors to
pull up the map of the general location for my description.
They asked me to help pinpoint the location. That's what
I remembered that I had pinned the location on my
phone the day prior and pulled it out and gave
it to the young officer with the app open. There
was technology there that could detect any living thing from
a satellite to my amazement, I saw there on the
monitor several large highlighted figures, red figures and smaller orange figures,
which is CSM began to tell me what they meant.
The red figures were adult sized humans, and the small
orange figures were small children, and the large blue figures
they were the sisquatch. Well, I didn't expect them to
say the word sasquatch or bigfoot. I was surprised. Looking
at the detail of this imagery was nothing short of amazing.
I could see moving, We could tell if they were
squatted down or sitting. We could see that they were
standing or laying down, as well as walking on two
legs or four. The CSM told the team to analyze
the data and he would return in a few minutes,
and then asked me to follow him outside to a
camp table, where we sat down. He began to tell
me his experiences with these creatures. Ten years earlier, he
saw a creature while tracking a missing child. His dog
made great strides in getting close to the girl and
the abductor, and when he rounded a blind turn alone
on a cliff, he was attacked by a large, hairy
beast running on two feet and standing over a meter
taller than the mounte. The bigfoot knocked him to the
side and down the hill and then killed his dog.
This attack placing him in the hospital for three months
with a broken back and arm. Fortune, he was a
part of a larger group and was found by another
canine handler shortly after the attack. He stuck his hand
inside his shirt pocket at that time and pulled out
a laminated photo of a little girl. This is Lisa,
he said. She is the little girl that I just
told you about, and there isn't a day that goes
by that I don't think about her and what happened
on that day. He told me that he had been
following these tribes of Bigfoot with the mission to capture
or eliminate them, and for the past five years alone,
he could link fifteen abductions of children and women, as
well as the deaths of another six males in the
western part of North America to sisquatch. The CSM said,
we're always a step behind them. We don't know where
they are until they abduct a child, but within twenty
four hours they could have moved over twenty kilometers and
we have to be lucky to locate one of these troops.
They migrate from as far north as northern British Columbia
in the summer and to as far south as Arizona
in the winter, which makes tracking them almost impossible. The
information that you've provided us is great and it's going
to make our mission a success, and we thank you
for that. You can go back to your patrol and
forget everything that you saw here. Well, inside my pocket
I had a laminated photo of a young girl too
that I carried with me, and I showed it to
him and I said, I'm not leaving. The CSM then
spread out a topo map on the table, and soon
they had developed a plan to attack the tribe and
save the people being held there. Operations would begin shortly.
All but a few of the Mounties retired to the
oversized tents while CSM and I ate breakfast and spoke
for a couple of hours about how this team was formed,
including the horses that were conditioned to not react to
these beasts and buck their riders. The CSM then spoke
of the threat that these creatures possessed children and how
they are more abundant than what people realize. I was
always taught that monsters are not real and if a
person saw one, they must be crazy. The two of
us then hit the rack about three hundred, but at
about seven point thirty we were awakened by the officer
monitoring the tribe's movements, and he informed us that two
of the hairy men had left the group and then
split apart, with one catching what appeared to be a
moose calf and then returned to their camp to feed
the group. It looked like they were allowing the remaining
humans to eat. The other size squats travel five kilometers
from the group and had taken up a position behind
a small residence along the highway three. Darkness was coming
fast tonight with no moon in the He knew that
they would have to take this one out quickly before
the main plan could be executed, and then a plan
B was in place within just a few minutes with
three different six person teams, including a sniper with fifty
cow rifles. They were both fitted with night vision, thermal
imaging scopes and silencers. All teams saddled up with their
mounts and loaded them in the horse trailers along with
the two large draft mules known as mammoth jacks. These
mules were what old timers used to drag logs out
of the forests. The teams then scattered to their assigned
starting points, and all roads into the area were blocked
and manned. While they were en route, a CSM told
me what was happening. The house where the big mail
was located had one adult and three kids. He suspected
the sisquatch was looking to abduct one or more children.
He was able to acquire the phone number for the
house and call them, telling the mother to move all
her children into the interior of the house and stay
away from the windows, that there was a large, injured bear,
and that the mounties were tracking and going to kill it,
and that they needed to stay put until notified. While
this was taking place, the young officer was helping guide
the three teams three to four hundred meters away from
the creature and advancing to a shooting lane half the
distance between the horses and the beast. Within just thirty
minutes of the call to the residence, the team started
to report into the command center. As this was occurring,
the CSM and myself were watching it all take place
on the big screen. Other monitors around us showed the
body cams worn by the team members. This bigfoot was patient,
staying in the same spot for over an hour, but
the silence was broken and the radio cracked. Gold Team
target acquired. A few minutes later another radio transmission Blue
Team target acquired, but then we heard Red Team target
still dark. The young officer controlling the monitor replied Red
Team positioned twenty yards north. Three minutes later we heard
Red Team target acquired. The CSM gave the command to
execute the operation on Mark. The young officer then spoke
into the mic all teams on my Mark three two, one,
Mark and the rest of us in the command trailer
could see the white flashes of all three of the
rifles discharge on the large monitor, all at the same time.
The beast didn't even flinch as three fifty cow slugs
struck its head and it dropped to the ground dead.
The teams had rushed forward with their mounts and the
two mammoth jacks harnessed up the beast and dragged it
to one of the trailers. This off was over, the
teams headed back to the base. A uniform mounting was
sent to the house to tell the resident that the
bear had been killed and there was no longer a risk.
I was more than impressed at what I was witnessing,
watching this company's level of execution and precision. The camp
was now alive with excitement as the strike team returned
with their prize, and as they opened up the trailer
and drugged the beast out, a smell hit me in
the face and I had to gag. The creature was
over three meters tall and one and a half meters wide,
and it must have weighed seven hundred kilograms or fourteen
hundred pounds. The CSM congratulated the teams and gathered the
entire group of nearly one hundred mounties together and gave
a short speech that this was the reason they were
here to take out this group and recover all the
individuals that had been abducted, and that he was now
moving up the departure time to midnight, which was just
twenty minutes away. The mountains all went into business mode
and they sprang into action, doing gear checks and painting
their faces so that they were completely camouflaged, and then
the teams began to move out and get to their
assigned positions. At nearly five hundred and almost go time,
the young man monitoring the big screen said that he
had three new contacts not previously seen on the satellite images.
They were moving from the north toward the troop we
were about to hit. They were carrying something alive, but
he couldn't confirm whether it was another human or a
wild animal that they had killed. A team of operators
stood in their path. The CSN began giving orders for
some team members to move and give these new targets
a clear path to the group, and to hold and
wait for further orders. As the sun's first rays were
about to pop over the edge of the Earth at
five thirty, the three newcomers stopped one hundred meters short
of the main group and took up a defensive position,
seeming to realize that something was wrong. Realizing the operation
was in jeopardy, the CSM grabbed the mic and said
EGO status report, and the team snipers responded by calling
out to the command center again just like before, Goal
Team target acquired, Blue Team target acquired, and Red Team
target acquired. Then the CSM yelled into the mic, go
and the screen lit up like fireworks as the three
watchers were dropped where they stood and several members of
the team threw flash grenades from as close as twenty
yards away into the group, while others identified the hairy
men began engaging the targets. The young officer was constantly
on the radio calling out directions as one of the
three newcomers had been able to retreat the way that
he had come, and he was heading north, putting distance
between him and his group at a fast pace. One
of our gunships intercepted him and cut him down. Another
creature from the group had also taken flight, running on
all fours and was already on the other side of
the clearing as the last line of Mounties made contact
and dropped him before he could escape to the safety
of the dark woods. The humans in the group were
altogether a different story for the Mounties as they shouldered
their rifles and attempted to gather them up, but they
had also scattered in all directions, running and hiding and
climbing trees and diving into thickets. The Moundis were having
to restrain them while another Mounie would have to zip
tie their hands. Others were avoiding the Mounties, running in
different directions and doubling back and heading for the water.
But with the assistance of the satellite, The mountings were
able to complete the roundup in one hour, but the
ones they captured were an unruly bunch. They were lashing
out like caged animals. The helicopters landed in the clearing
and began to load and transport the captives back to
the base. When the humans were safely back at the base,
the choppers returned and lifted the dead squatches with cargo nets,
and they returned them to the base as well. The
captives were being evaluated by the medical teams. Other teams
of scientists began examining the foul smelling creatures. The lead
scientists was upset that one had not been taken alive.
The CSM didn't seem to react or seem concerned. The
entire group of sasquatch was made up of all males.
There were eleven altogether, two large males and nine lesser males.
In the area, the teams found a human who had
recently been killed. He was a hiker from Oregon who
had been reported missing only a few days earlier. He
was missing one arm and one leg, but both were
found close to his body. There was continuing research being
done on other bones found and collected at the group's
camp that appeared to be a mixture of human bones
of all sizes and animal bones of varying species, including elk, moose, bear,
and fish. The CSM and I took a trip to
the captive's tent, and as we opened the flap and
walked in, one caught his attention. He wasn't sure, but
he thought one of the females was the little girl
he had lost years before. We could see the birthmark
on the back of her right arm. Identification would have
to be done by specialists, but he was sure this
was her. The CSM had the medical team take DNA
samples from all the captives, even the three infants and
toddlers that looked to be hybrids, and then they were
flown out for analysis. Yes, I said, the smaller ones
look like hybrids. They had more hair on their arms,
legs and back and even their tail ends than the
other captives, and their arms appeared to be out of proportion,
being longer than the other children. These Harry toddlers also
seemed to be as wild as a trap badger, scratching
and biting at anybody who got close to them. I
never imagined that cross breeding between these two species could
be possible, but this has to mean that the sasquatch
must be part of the human evolutionary chain. The day
was growing late and the tear was settling down for
the night, as they had very little sleep the night
before and the day had been long and eventful, so
I decided to say good night to the team and
I headed home to Rocco. I returned the next day
in the CSM informed me that the company would be
moving out that day and I was not to mention
the operation to anyone. The captives were transported out in
a bus that morning along with the medical team. The
three smaller hybrids had to be restrained in cages and sedated.
The older captives had not spoken any words yet, but
we're taking food and water from the medical team. It
was a good sign. They looked a lot different, being
clean and dressed now with their hair wash and comb.
And as for the carcasses of the sasquatch, they smell
worse than the day before. The scientists began to load
the beast in a refrigerated trailer, and soon the flurry
of activity had diminished to nothing, and I watched the
last truck pull away. The CSM and I said our
goodbyes and I headed home again. The following week, on
my patrol, I was close to the Areo and Rocco
and I drove back to the old lumberyard to find
the chain across the entrance and no sign of anybody
being there. I walked around and noticed that the holes
from the tent stakes were even filled in. In the
time following this event, Roco and I resumed our duties
as before, and I learned that the little girl whose
photo I carried had been one of the kids in
the group. I could now let go of that guilt.
The year following my retirement, I drove up to the
small community where the little girl was from, and I
walked up to her house, which now lay empty. I
knocked on the neighbor's door and asked what happened to
the family. The lady told me that a black suv
he showed up and the family left with the men
that drove the suv back in August of twenty and seventeen,
and the next day a group of movers showed up
and loaded up all the family's belongings and left, never
to be seen again. By any of the neighbors. I
never learned what happened to any of the captives, including
the two girls that the CSM and I knew, nor
did I learn anything of the three hybrids that were
in the group. I called the CSM several times over
the next few months, and he never returned my calls.
That year, and I'd heard through the grapevine that he
was on a joint operation down in the United States
for the next year. I decided I'd had enough of
the cold, and I decided Rocco and I were going
to move south. And since my father was from New Mexico,
I had dual citizenship my entire life, and it was
about time that I became a full time American, and
Florida looked like a great place to live. I had
saved all my life for retirement, and I had accumulated
a sizeable sum since I didn't have any family nor
any expensive desires, so I purchased a twenty seventeen Boston
Whaler for twenty in a waterfront home. Now I was
now on the coast where I could be en route
into the Gulf in a matter of minutes. Some in
your audience will not like what I write next, but
they need to hear it. It is fun to imagine
sisquatch as a forest guardian that dances about hugging bunnies
and frolicking in the tall grass. Well, this idea of
sasquatch is idealistic and it is not based in reality
in any way. They are killers and they eat humans,
and they need to be killed exterminated. They are responsible
for more missing people than you can imagine in this number,
or many children. If you ever engage a sosquatch, you
need to run for your life. But as for me,
I think Rocco and I will try our luck with
some snappers tomorrow. I wish you and all your listeners
the best, and I pray that they never encounter one
of these creatures. Stay vigilant, went out in the wild,
and please never let your children play unsupervised anywhere these
creatures may lurk.