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Soldiers in the Field

This happened when I was in high school in Malaysia, a former British colony once occupied by the Japanese during World War II

We were to sleep on the roof of the pavilion. It actually isn't as horrifying as it sounded, for the roof of the pavilion is a long stretch of cement, much like a floor, raised about 2 metres from the ground. After all, we're the Boy Scouts, best platoon in town. Rough and tough and totally fearless, at least thats what our motto says of us.

We were attending a sleepover in a training facility. Because there was inadequate camping gear, our patrol was told to put up on the roof. Those who have a knack of sleeping in the open will understand that the roof is an excellent place to do so. From there we could see the top of other buildings (as the facility was built on top of a hill). Our vantage point also includes the large field directly in front.

So, all of us (about twelve, I think) lied down side by side in a straight row like sardines, gazing up at the starlit night and began to talk about the next day's activities, occasionally pointing excitedly when a shooting star or two flew by. As the night lingered, the giggles and jibes died down and I felt myself drifting to sleep, the cool night air provided an excellent ambience. It was a perfect occasion for one to cherish one's schooling days.

But the highlight was yet to come, as it appeared.

Suddenly I was awakened by sounds of people marching. This I thought strange for I realised that we're the only Scouts platoon in the facility. Perhaps a new batch arrived, and suffered punishment to perform footdrill in the middle of the night. I chuckled wickedly at this turned to sleep again. But something was just not right.

My ears perked up. There also seemed to be a military band playing in the distance. The marching got louder, and there were sounds of gunfire' and men's cries. Plus, the footdrill commandant was barking out commands in a strange language, sounding like Japanese. This is not your regular Boys Scouts!

Curious, I crawled to the edge of the pavilion and peered over. Seeing me, three of my light-sleeping friends also joined me. The spectacle the beheld us made us froze!

The quiet football field before us has transformed into an area buzzing with activity, orderly activity that is. In the moon light we could make out they were in army fatigues and there seems to a parade going on. Soldiers in straight platoons were marching in stride. Flags were waving. At the far side of the field, there seemed to be a VIP verandah where several officers were observing the parade. As we looked, the scene grew more and more vivid, the voices grew louder and then suddenly, it all just vanished!

We looked at each other, and pinched ourselves to ensure that all four of us are awake and sane. Then we each wrote everything we saw on a piece on paper and compared with each other. Everyone's accounts tally. No one was dreaming.

The following day, after much quizzing, the facility's caretaker informed us that the place was indeed taken over by the Japanese Army during the Occupation and was used as a temporary barracks.
No it couldn't be our imagination because none of us have prior knowledge about this. We grimly decided that those had to be ghosts.
But the strangest thing is that, since the field was not a battleground, no blood has been shedthen why do the ghosts' return to re-enact a footdrill scene for us?

Learn more about this author, Ernie Yap.
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