The Marching Soldiers

I was 14 years old when my aunt, my mom's sister, invites us to have a vacation in their province in Surigao.

One night, when I was washing the dishes, I heard a drumbeat of a marching band. I assumed that it is a marching band of soldiers based on its beats. I didn't pay much attention to it since it is distant from the house.

"Mom, do soldiers have to march even at night?" I asked my mom when we were about to sleep.

"Perhaps, if they were given the order to march in their camp at night. What random questions do you have in your head to ask that?" she answered.

"I mean, a marching band. I heard a marching band earlier around 9 o'clock while washing dishes. I'm sure it was a marching band cause that sounds is so unique--"

"Enough of that, Joyce! You're just hallucinating hearing such things because you are far from the City. Go sleep now!" she yelled.

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The other day, I was wandering in my aunt's wide garden. On the other side of it is a hill connecting a mountain. I saw an empty line of grass along the way as if it was made as the road up to the mountain. I followed the line.

When I reached the top of the hill, I feel astonished at first after seeing the downtown. But then after a few minutes, the atmosphere changed into a chilling sensation. It feels like someone is watching me. So I decided to walk and go back to my aunt's house.

It only took me a few steps when I heard it again. I became aware of the noise which at first I couldn't identify. The sound gradually increased in volume until I was certain what it was.

A large number of soldiers jostle and sob together, the stamp of hooves, the snorting, the creak of saddles, the chink of bridles and the beat of the drums.

I was so stunned that I can not even blink my eyes. I saw their faces. The river of sweat and blood collides on their faces. Shrunken cheeks, darkened eye bags, wounded arms and legs, most of them were pale and others fainted as they were dragged by their fellow soldiers.

It saddened me. But crept me the most. I watched them marching emotionlessly and passing by without noticing me.

That night, I talked to my aunt about it. I asked her what were the soldiers doing on that hill. She gave me a shocked look after hearing my story.

She said that the soldiers I saw were the ghost of the soldiers who fought but were captured by the American soldiers during the American colonies. Their spirits were not aware that they died during the march.

Some of them died due to dehydration and famine. While the others died due to physical punishments they received from the Americans. They died as soldiers which is why they always do the marching band parade every dry season of the year.

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