As we remember the dead at this time of year, it is worth remembering that the battle for freedom in the 1940s was, ironically, won in Russia and Eastern Europe, whose peoples suffered to a degree unimaginable to most of us in the West. One example among many: early in 1944, nearly 400,000 Jews in Warsaw rose up rather than go quietly to their deaths, and most were killed by gunfire and starvation. The courageous (but premature) peoples' uprising later in that year led the Nazis to completely flatten the city and kill nearly 1,000,000 more.

I had taken my first visit to Warsaw to celebrate a wedding, and we had the opportunity to walk through the Old and New Towns, now painstakingly rebuilt to their pre-war beauty and splendour, each reproduction building a testimony to Polish defiance of the Russian post-war oppressor.

Our first major tourist attraction was a magnificent work of art depicting the Polish Uprising and dedicated in 1994, the 50th anniversary. That was also where I picked up my first ghost. This one was to act as my guide through the New Town. He gave a running commentary about the uprising and his sorrow at the Allies betrayal of Poland after the war. He was happy to remain as he was, watching his people gradually emerge from the post-war communist yoke to reassert the Polish joi d'vie.

We continued on our rambles through the New Town (a misnomer if ever there was one - the original version dated to the 16th and 17th centuries. It was just newer than the Old Town). Although the reproductions were as faithful to the original buildings there was a disturbing symmetry to them. The old cobbled roads and squares were original, having been the only thing to survive the Nazi occupation.

We wandered down towards the river through these cobbled courts and came across the brick church of Our Lady Mary on Koscielna Street. I was drawn into the church yard and to the wall of the Church. There, the hair stood up on the back of my neck. There was a ghost of a young soldier stuck there, he had been put up against the wall and shot.

I could feel his fear and pride, his determination that his people must win. I chose to meditate and pray for the lad's troubled soul. I told him that Poland was now free, both of the Nazis and from the USSR, and he was free to go. After a while he began to calm down, but my help was not quite enough to persuade him, so I called upon spirit guides to come and help take him to where he was supposed to be. This too was not enough for the lad although he was now calm and able to look around seeing how things now were rather than dwelling on his last moments of life. I had to ask Martin to come help. He too quietly told the soul he was free to go. The lad accepted both our statements of freedom and left. In doing so the energy around the wall of the Church lightened and cleared, now radiating peace rather then the hair-raising anguish perceived on our arrival.

We continued on our walk through the New Town, stopping at a café to have borscht and beer. I continued to listen to my ghostly guide, telling my husband what was being said. Who was he? He seemed to be a soldier of stature, an Officer and a Gentleman. I cannot tell you his name as I find ghosts rarely remember (people think of themselves as 'I', they continue to do so after they die). After we left the café and entered the Old Town, he left us to return to the cobbled squares he had fought for and died for.

If you go to Warsaw or other European cities you may find someone who needs help to escape from the horrors that took place in the last World War. Pray for their peace, as they died so that we might enjoy ours.

 Church of Our Lady Mary on Koscielna Street, Martin is standing where the young soldier who was the ghost, was shot and killed.