Archive 79 Bigfoot Massacre

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.