Friday, June 29, 2007
♥ "Sweet Memories are Forever" by Tranquilino V. Quinto (mahaba 'to.. mahabang mahaba..)
SWOOSH! Zit! Bang! Boom! Bombs exploded in the distance, shaking the foundation of that tiny remote town in Cagayan Valley. It was World War II. Fear and apprehension gripped the heart of every wife, mother, and lover as they prayed for the quick and safe return of their own husband, son, and boyfriend. "Our Father who art in heaven.."
At the battlefield, Captain De Vera came running along back of the line, followed by a couple of officers and enlisted men.
"Charge!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.
At the command, the Filipino soldiers sprang forward in eager leaps-a display of the strength that comes before a final bleat-surging like mad horses on the racetrack. But the enemy dealt them a swift rolling volley of fire power.
"D...n! D...n!" a sergeant cursed at the enemy. A young soldier was shot through the cheeks, disclosing a pulsing mass of blood and teeth in the wide cavern of his mouth. The sergeant saw him pitch to the ground and die at his feet. He continued to curse heavily until his robust voice grew and faded to a whimper.
The ragtag defenders of the tiny remote town were no match to the more powerful and better-equipped Japanese army. Most of their bullets whistled over the yellow dragons' heads.
"Get back! Retreat!" the captain yelled his order. The sounds of war that had stretched in a long line across the face of the entire region began to grow intermittent and weaker. The regiment bled profusely. The wounded crawled out and away to safety.
Finally, the roaring sound of artilleries, the rattling of machine guns and the air-splitting blast of grenades and bombs subsided, leaving the region utterly devastated and aflame.
In a matter of days, Japanese occupation of the entire province was completed.
Surprisingly, the natives discovered that their new rulers were not as brutal and as astrocious as they had imagined them to be. Both the victors and the vanquished enjoyed an unusually peaceful and harmonious coexistence.
After one year, the Japanese reopened the schools so that the children could resume their disrupted studies. Nihonggo(Japanese language) was integrated in the school curriculum. Japanese culture was immediately established, like bowing the head to greet elders and persons of authority.
The Cagayanos quickly learned Japanese words like "Ohayougozaimasu!"("Good Morning"), "Arigato"("Thank you!") and "Sayonara"(Goodbye"). Any infraction of courtesy merited a slap on the face. Those who accepted the new culture and language wholeheartedly found job opportunities in Japan, a decade later, as translators for the occupying American forces there.
Interestingly, even in turbulent times of war, the human capacity for love could not be supressed. The natives did not show open resistance to their Japanese occupiers who reciprocated with equal benevolence. During their routine duty, the Japanese patrol squad stopped by some front yard on bright sunny days to greet women sun-bathing their babies. A young Japanese officer named Iwamoto Kobata was particularly attracted to a native baby boy. Quickly he sought the baby's father's acquaintance. Because of similar circumstances in their life-both men had three children, two girls and one boy, the youngest being a boy-their acquaintance blossomed into deep friendship.
Every morning, Kobata dropped by his new friend's house just to cradle the baby in his arms while he was being sun-bathed by his mother.
"Ohayougozaimasu, Madam! May I play with baby today?" Kobata was always as courteous as the baby's parents were to him.
"Why, yes, indeed, lieutenant!" the baby's mother smiled as she handed him over to the affable yellow-skinned officer.
When the baby became a year old, Lt. Kobata taught him how to talk and say a few Japanese words. He also guided the little boy's first, wobbly steps. He loved to toss the baby in the airor ride him above the head. This delighted the little boy so much that he squealed and flailed his tiny hands in the air like a virtual bird.
"Hey, listen to him laugh! Beautiful! Ride the wind, little one!" the lieutenant coaxed the little boy while his squad clapped their hands in glee. And in those light, joyful moments, skin color, race, language, and religion were completely forgotten. But then, as the saying goes, "All good things must come to an end."
After a few years of relative calm and peace, the town was plunged into panic as rumors of another war began to gather in the horizon: The Americans were coming to liberate the Philippines!
Instantly, Japanese patrol was doubled because there was no telling when the Americans would attack. Close contact between Kobata and his friends was abruptly terminated as war reared its ugly head and the pervading shadows of fear and destruction became imminent.
"You understand, of course, that we're doing this for your own safety," Lt. Kobata told the boy's father, choking on his words.
"Yes, we understand. Thank you for your concern," the little boy's father replied, grasping Kobata's hand.
From that time on, the young Japanese lieutenant could only gaze longingly at the little boy when the squad passed his home during their patrol duty. A flashing smile and a hand wave would be the little boy's innocent answer, while his sisters watched, teary-eyed.
Blackouts were imposed in anticipation to American air strikes. The little boy's father has decided to evacuate his family to a remote place where the possibilty of open battle would be less likely. After a tearful farewell between the lieutenant and his Filipino friends, they never saw each other again. In the confusion of the liberation process, Kobata must have been killed. But his Filipino friends believed that he was able to make his way back to his family in Japan.
I am the little boy in the story.
"Today, after six decades, I still cherish the sweet memories that Iwamoto Kobata, my childhood friend, had left behind. Sometimes I see him in my dreams. I cherish the thought that one day I will be able to meet his family. Who knows, I might have met them already, for I have made many Japanese friends in my lifetime. But the sweet memories will be there, forever-nothing can ever change or steal that. They are etched deep in the chambers of my heart like the memories of God's love for me. It is beyond compare."
=+=+ ayan po, uhm.. si lolo balolong ko yan.. 1st death anniversary nya nung june 20.. he visited me that day, actually.. haaaay.. i admire him so much because of A LOT of things.. just ask me personally what those are.. uhm.. message para kay lolo balolong: i love you soooooooooooooo much and i really, really miss you.. ='(
At the battlefield, Captain De Vera came running along back of the line, followed by a couple of officers and enlisted men.
"Charge!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.
At the command, the Filipino soldiers sprang forward in eager leaps-a display of the strength that comes before a final bleat-surging like mad horses on the racetrack. But the enemy dealt them a swift rolling volley of fire power.
"D...n! D...n!" a sergeant cursed at the enemy. A young soldier was shot through the cheeks, disclosing a pulsing mass of blood and teeth in the wide cavern of his mouth. The sergeant saw him pitch to the ground and die at his feet. He continued to curse heavily until his robust voice grew and faded to a whimper.
The ragtag defenders of the tiny remote town were no match to the more powerful and better-equipped Japanese army. Most of their bullets whistled over the yellow dragons' heads.
"Get back! Retreat!" the captain yelled his order. The sounds of war that had stretched in a long line across the face of the entire region began to grow intermittent and weaker. The regiment bled profusely. The wounded crawled out and away to safety.
Finally, the roaring sound of artilleries, the rattling of machine guns and the air-splitting blast of grenades and bombs subsided, leaving the region utterly devastated and aflame.
In a matter of days, Japanese occupation of the entire province was completed.
Surprisingly, the natives discovered that their new rulers were not as brutal and as astrocious as they had imagined them to be. Both the victors and the vanquished enjoyed an unusually peaceful and harmonious coexistence.
After one year, the Japanese reopened the schools so that the children could resume their disrupted studies. Nihonggo(Japanese language) was integrated in the school curriculum. Japanese culture was immediately established, like bowing the head to greet elders and persons of authority.
The Cagayanos quickly learned Japanese words like "Ohayougozaimasu!"("Good Morning"), "Arigato"("Thank you!") and "Sayonara"(Goodbye"). Any infraction of courtesy merited a slap on the face. Those who accepted the new culture and language wholeheartedly found job opportunities in Japan, a decade later, as translators for the occupying American forces there.
Interestingly, even in turbulent times of war, the human capacity for love could not be supressed. The natives did not show open resistance to their Japanese occupiers who reciprocated with equal benevolence. During their routine duty, the Japanese patrol squad stopped by some front yard on bright sunny days to greet women sun-bathing their babies. A young Japanese officer named Iwamoto Kobata was particularly attracted to a native baby boy. Quickly he sought the baby's father's acquaintance. Because of similar circumstances in their life-both men had three children, two girls and one boy, the youngest being a boy-their acquaintance blossomed into deep friendship.
Every morning, Kobata dropped by his new friend's house just to cradle the baby in his arms while he was being sun-bathed by his mother.
"Ohayougozaimasu, Madam! May I play with baby today?" Kobata was always as courteous as the baby's parents were to him.
"Why, yes, indeed, lieutenant!" the baby's mother smiled as she handed him over to the affable yellow-skinned officer.
When the baby became a year old, Lt. Kobata taught him how to talk and say a few Japanese words. He also guided the little boy's first, wobbly steps. He loved to toss the baby in the airor ride him above the head. This delighted the little boy so much that he squealed and flailed his tiny hands in the air like a virtual bird.
"Hey, listen to him laugh! Beautiful! Ride the wind, little one!" the lieutenant coaxed the little boy while his squad clapped their hands in glee. And in those light, joyful moments, skin color, race, language, and religion were completely forgotten. But then, as the saying goes, "All good things must come to an end."
After a few years of relative calm and peace, the town was plunged into panic as rumors of another war began to gather in the horizon: The Americans were coming to liberate the Philippines!
Instantly, Japanese patrol was doubled because there was no telling when the Americans would attack. Close contact between Kobata and his friends was abruptly terminated as war reared its ugly head and the pervading shadows of fear and destruction became imminent.
"You understand, of course, that we're doing this for your own safety," Lt. Kobata told the boy's father, choking on his words.
"Yes, we understand. Thank you for your concern," the little boy's father replied, grasping Kobata's hand.
From that time on, the young Japanese lieutenant could only gaze longingly at the little boy when the squad passed his home during their patrol duty. A flashing smile and a hand wave would be the little boy's innocent answer, while his sisters watched, teary-eyed.
Blackouts were imposed in anticipation to American air strikes. The little boy's father has decided to evacuate his family to a remote place where the possibilty of open battle would be less likely. After a tearful farewell between the lieutenant and his Filipino friends, they never saw each other again. In the confusion of the liberation process, Kobata must have been killed. But his Filipino friends believed that he was able to make his way back to his family in Japan.
I am the little boy in the story.
"Today, after six decades, I still cherish the sweet memories that Iwamoto Kobata, my childhood friend, had left behind. Sometimes I see him in my dreams. I cherish the thought that one day I will be able to meet his family. Who knows, I might have met them already, for I have made many Japanese friends in my lifetime. But the sweet memories will be there, forever-nothing can ever change or steal that. They are etched deep in the chambers of my heart like the memories of God's love for me. It is beyond compare."
=+=+ ayan po, uhm.. si lolo balolong ko yan.. 1st death anniversary nya nung june 20.. he visited me that day, actually.. haaaay.. i admire him so much because of A LOT of things.. just ask me personally what those are.. uhm.. message para kay lolo balolong: i love you soooooooooooooo much and i really, really miss you.. ='(
12:27 PM
