That was when the telephone rang. The Doctor picked it up grumpily, knowing exactly who was on the other end.

‘You know, Brigadier, a chap can’t be expected to do any useful work if⁠ —’

‘[…] We’ve found something. I’d rather like you on site before we bring in the big guns.’

‘The big guns, Brigadier? I bet you can barely contain yourself.’

‘There’s a helicopter on standby. I’d like you aboard it, with me, in five minutes.’

‘For pity’s sake, man. Aren’t you going to give me at least some explanation?’

‘Crabs,’ the Brigadier said succinctly.

The Brigadier: Now I knew what these things [the ghosts] were. I found myself searching the faces of the blank ghosts, hoping to find some comrade peering out at me. But no, nothing of the sort. Only cold, emotionless killers. The past's pain and bloodshed, ripped from history, made flesh. And now they wanted to claim us as well.

BRIGADIER: Let me tell you, sir, that I'm in full possession of all my faculties. After all, if I was suffering from amnesia, I'd be the first to know about it, wouldn't I?