Jamie Hale/The Oregonian

The hair raised on the back of my neck as I slowly crept inside.



The concrete entryway was hidden in a hillside, covered with trees and green ferns. It looked like the entrance to a ruined temple – vine maples in place of vines – like something out of "Indiana Jones."



A long corridor ran to a square daylight on the other side, another opening at the end, but between the two doorways was nothing but darkness. This bunker had long been abandoned.



As I stepped inside, only one thought crossed my mind: I really should have brought a flashlight.

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Jamie Hale/The Oregonian

The main entrance to Battery 247 on McKenzie Head in Cape Disappointment State Park.

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Jamie Hale/The Oregonian

Detail of one of many old batteries at Fort Stevens State Park.

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Jamie Hale/The Oregonian

The military batteries at Fort Stevens date back to the Civil War.

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The concrete bunker is Battery 247, an old military installation at Cape Disappointment on the southwest Washington coast. One of many gun batteries built at strategic locations at the mouth of the Columbia River in Oregon and Washington, it now sits abandoned as a modern American ruin.



The old batteries are fascinating historic attractions, but touring the abandoned structures can be an enormously unnerving experience.



Built between the Civil War and World War II, the batteries were responsible for protecting the Columbia River, which by that time had become a vitally important shipping channel for the white settlements that had taken over the Pacific Northwest.



Not that the mouth of the Columbia was every really "safe." This section of coastline on the Oregon-Washington border was nicknamed "the graveyard of the Pacific" after hundreds of ships sank trying to enter the river. The U.S. Coast still has to guide ships past the notorious sand bars at the entrance to the river.



But the military wasn't focused on nature as much as hostile foreign powers. Three forts were erected at the mouth of the river between 1863 and 1904: Fort Stevens on the Oregon side with Fort Columbia and Fort Canby on the Washington side. Together, they were considered a "triangle of fire" that would offer protection.



The first guns went into the forts during the Civil War, when the U.S. was concerned about British and Confederate sea raiders, according to the Oregon Parks and Recreation Department. Construction continued in the early 20th century and through World War I, building up the forts into major installations.



During World War II, the U.S. military constructed new batteries and mounted bigger guns, this time to counter attacks from Japan. The forts remained manned through the end of the war, and while tensions remained high, none ever actually fired on enemies.



Fort Stevens, however, did take fire from a Japanese submarine in what was the only attack on a continental U.S. military base during World War II. In June 1942, the submarine surfaced at the mouth of the Columbia River and fired on Battery Russell.



No one was hurt and no damage was done, though the shells fell “dangerously close to their objective,” exploding in a nearby swamp, according to a report that week in The Oregonian. The military was disturbed by the Japanese attack, but people in Astoria and Seaside reportedly went about their business, unperturbed.

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Jamie Hale/The Oregonian

A doorway leads inside the darkness within a battery at Fort Stevens.

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Jamie Hale/The Oregonian

Detail of an old military battery at Fort Stevens State Park.

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Jamie Hale/The Oregonian

An old gun mount is now a small pond at Battery 247 on McKenzie Head at Cape Disappointment State Park.

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After World War II, the old batteries were decommissioned and have since been kept as historic attractions. But what exactly is the attraction? History buffs will appreciate their wartime significance, but for other visitors the appeal may lie in the ruins themselves.



Visit the batteries on a damp fall day and see the old metal doors, blood-red rust weeping down toward the ground. Find the spots where guns were once mounted, now empty sockets in which rain has made ponds. Trees, moss and tufts of green grass sprout from every crack and hole, as nature slowly takes over the structures.



There are no ghosts of grief (as you might find on a historic battlefield) but a haunting sense of emptiness remains: empty corridors, vacant staircases, blank slabs of concrete. These aren't places where something is, but where something used to be.



Some doors remain closed with what look like fresh padlocks, leaving you to wonder: "Why? What's left to lock up?"



The doors that remain open lead visitors inside corridors containing many tiny, concrete rooms, where soldiers might have been stationed or ammunition stored. With no details, no décor, it's difficult to tell. Stare into the darkness long enough and your imagination might paint a picture.



It requires courage to step inside one of these pitch-black bunkers without a light, like taking your first timid steps into a moonless night.



As I walked through Battery 247, I passed many of those dark little rooms. I didn't expect to find anything – or anyone – inside them, but the very thought that somebody could be lurking there in the dark kept me from ever finding out. Fear ushered me onward toward the light at the end of the corridor, my footsteps clapping hollow on the walls.



Once out the far door, I was greeted by sunlight and a forest of ferns, fronds dancing on a gentle breeze. The tension in my chest released, opening my lungs to fresh air. The path outside led to a grassy clearing hemmed in by trees, where a lonely old gun mount sat facing the ocean.



I took in the beautiful scene and stood listening to the sounds of the ocean. But before long the bunker beckoned me back, drawing me into the darkness once again. I knew I had to go back through to get out, but an uneasy feeling held me frozen, left me standing just outside the big, rusted doors.

You can see the old military batteries for yourself at three state park sites in Oregon and Washington. Here’s where to find the ruins of the “triangle of fire.”

SEE MORE PHOTOS BELOW

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FORT STEVENS BATTERIES

Most of the old military batteries at Fort Stevens State Park are found at the historical site near the banks of the Columbia River. Easy walking trails lead through the Fort Stevens State Historical Site, starting at the parking area beside a small museum. Another site, Battery Russell, is found in the center of the park facing the Pacific Ocean.

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FORT CANBY BATTERIES

There are two old batteries at Fort Canby, today part of Cape Disappointment State Park in Washington. Battery Harvey Allen is found at the Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center in the southern portion of the park, where visitors can explore the old concrete complex. Battery 247 sits atop McKenzie Head, found near the park's campground, accessed by a short hike to the top of the hill.

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FORT COLUMBIA BATTERIES

There is a small group of batteries at Fort Columbia Historical State Park, as well as historic officers' homes, facing the Columbia River in Washington. The park also has miles of forested hiking trails leading uphill above the river.

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Jamie Hale/The Oregonian

The main entrance to Battery 247 on McKenzie Head in Cape Disappointment State Park.

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Jamie Hale/The Oregonian

Detail of an old military battery at Fort Stevens State Park.

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Jamie Hale/The Oregonian

A walking trail tours the historic artillery batteries at Fort Stevens State Park.

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Jamie Hale/The Oregonian

Some batteries still have guns mounted to show what was once in use.

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Jamie Hale/The Oregonian

Detail of an old military battery at Fort Stevens State Park.

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Jamie Hale/The Oregonian

Detail of an old military battery at Fort Stevens State Park.

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Jamie Hale/The Oregonian

Detail of an old military battery at Fort Stevens State Park.

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Jamie Hale/The Oregonian

Detail of an old military battery at Fort Stevens State Park.

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--Jamie Hale | jhale@oregonian.com | @HaleJamesB