Chapter 2 – The Headless Soldiers

Across the Indonesian archipelago, from abandoned forts to silent colonial ruins, there are whispers of headless soldiers — restless ghosts from the Dutch era who march long after their time has passed.

Their stories began in the shadows of history, during the centuries of colonial war when thousands of soldiers — Dutch, local, and mercenary — met violent ends on foreign soil. Some were executed, others fell in battle, and many were buried without names, far from their homeland. But not all found peace.

Locals tell of nights when the air grows heavy, and the echo of marching boots breaks the silence. The sound of disciplined steps — one, two, one, two — reverberates through empty corridors and forgotten fields. Yet when people look to find the source, there is no one there. Only the faint smell of gunpowder and rust, lingering like an old wound that refuses to fade.

In some places, the sightings are more terrifying. Witnesses claim to have seen men in old Dutch uniforms — headless, carrying rifles, wandering aimlessly under the moonlight. Some appear on former battlefields, others near old forts in cities like Semarang, Surabaya, and Jakarta. A few locals even say they have seen them at abandoned hospitals built during the colonial era, where the dead were once left unburied.

One well-known story tells of a night guard at an old fort in East Java who heard the sound of boots approaching from behind him. When he turned, he saw a line of men marching in silence — their uniforms torn and faded — and where their heads should have been, there was only darkness. The guard fainted, and by dawn, he was found trembling, unable to speak for days.

Many believe these soldiers were cursed to wander for eternity, punished for the blood they shed and the pain they caused during their lifetimes. Others say they march not out of vengeance, but confusion — forever trapped between the world of the living and the dead, still following the orders of a long-dead commander.

To this day, if you walk near an old fort or colonial building in Indonesia after midnight, listen closely.
When you hear the sound of boots marching in rhythm, do not look back.
Because the soldiers of the past still walk among us — and some of them have forgotten that they no longer live.