In June 1962, The Cold War was at its height, and all across the United States, hundreds of United States Air Force missile silos were being dug to store ballistic missiles.
The construction process required a three-story hole to be dug straight down into the earth, a 62 foot long steel reinforcement cage put in, and a cement tube to basically be built within.
The missiles would be inserted and then a 110 ton steel and concrete plate would be put overtop of the assembly, armed with explosives to blow them off to make way for the launching missile.
The work was rather straightforward, and well paying for the workers. Most of the time the constructions would go off without a hitch, and the contractors would return home from their "hazardous job" day after day. However, when building Silo B-13 at Whiteman Air Force Base in Missouri, it became obvious that one of the contractors had not returned to work after his lunch break.
At first, no one suspected a thing, assuming that he had simply ran late or was taking a while to finish his sandwich. Concerns started building as the day came to a close, as the man had not returned. His family was phoned in case he had simply left work early and gone home, which of course was not the case. It was as if the contractor had disappeared into thin air.
After twenty years had passed, the missing worker was eventually forgotten. Air Force Security forces constantly patrolled the outer perimeters of the sites, and missile maintenance teams would go into the silos on a monthly basis; almost routine as the construction of the silos was twenty years prior. One night, however, was not so routine for Staff Sergeant Wayne Nichols of the 351st Organizational Missile Maintenance Squadron and an Airman who has declined to be named.
They were performing checks on the Minuteman's rocket motor when the sound of a steady tapping began. It didn't sound a thing like the routine sounds of the missile's metal contracting due to changing temperature. It sounded, as Nichols reported, like "as if someone were to try to shatter concrete with a hammer." It progressively increased in volume and speed, almost like the sounds were banging closer to them. Needless to say, the frightened airmen fled the silo as soon as their jobs were done and reported the strange noises.
The sounds persisted every time maintenance workers entered the silo. Several men even reported the sounds of labored breathing and footsteps. It was mostly kept under wraps by base security.
However, it wasn't long before rumors of the "haunted" B-13 silo were whispered among the men, maintenance, operators and security forces alike. There were even rumors of communist-sympathetic citizens tunneling underground to sabotage the missiles.
An investigation was launched to find out the source of the "B-13 Tapping" as it came to be known as. Ground penetrating radar, a brand new technology at the time, was brought in to survey the concrete walls and floor. They scanned everything.
Nothing was significantly out of the ordinary until they came to the base, right under the missile's engines. It seemed that there was a gap in the cement; a void about 6 feet long and 2 feet wide. It was dubbed that the silo had to be renovated, and over the course of two weeks, the missile was removed and the concrete was torn away.
The maintenance crews came upon a grisly sight. In the chipped away cement was a skeleton, still clad in clothing of the contracting team that built the silos. He had fallen into the silo on his break, be it accidental or suicidal, and drowned in the cement. His body had lain there for over twenty years. Another thing stuck out to the men who found the worker as well...
...He was gripping a hammer.