A true story of courage and faith of a Filipino maiden who guided scores of civilians to safety during the last days of the Second World War
The mass of tired men, women and children settled silently along a narrow foot trail on the side of the hill and waited for the two kids assigned by Margarita as points and runners. The night was moonless but the light of brilliant stars enabled them to discern the shape of the big mountain. Sounds of gunfire can be heard from behind them.
“It’s safe ahead. No soldiers, no one”, reported the two kids who stealthily reappeared panting. “See that mountain shaped like a pig’s back? It has a dense forest and I’ve heard there are huge caverns there. We’ll climb that and look for a cave to hide safely until help comes. Let’s take advantage of the night. They can’t see us in darkness. We’ll keep going. Pass the message to the men at the back and let them signal to the rest that we will start moving”, whispered Margarita to the two kids.
Still in her early thirties and quite strong for her small build, she was laden with a bag filled with corn grits, a cooking earthen pot, and pieces of clothing slang at her back. Clang to her hips was a child, wrapped in rags, weakening from diarrhea, a nephew she now treated as her own son. She was leading scores of civilians fleeing from rogue soldiers who deserted their units.
Orphaned with her two younger brothers at their tender age and single-handedly cared for by a widowed Aunt, she now treat as her mother, Margarita learned early the value of courage, faith and loyalty. She had faith in MacArthur’s promise to come back and liberate the country.
****
In 1941, Japan declared war against the United States as its dive bombers made a surprise attack on the American naval fleet at Pearl Harbor. The Philippines was then a commonwealth country and an American protectorate. U.S. troops of American and Filipino soldiers were stationed in various parts of the country under the command of General Douglas MacArthur.
The Philippines lay in the path of the Japanese offensive thrust in the Far East leading towards Australia. Bataan and Corregidor, the two strongholds of the U.S. army in the country fall to the superior Japanese invasion forces in 1942. Thousands of American and Filipino soldiers and civilians stationed there died or were captured and imprisoned. The fall of the well-fortified Corregidor, the strongest American military bastion in the Philippines at that time, triggered the surrender of American forces in all parts of the country to the Japanese forces.
Before the fall of Corregidor, Manuel Quezon, the wartime President of the Philippine Commonwealth, left for exile to the United States. General MacArthur who was then with his troops in Corregidor was ordered by U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt to relocate to Australia to organize the defense of the country and there prepare America’s counter offensive against the Japanese forces.
Upon his arrival in Adelaide, Australia, MacArthur declared to a cheering crowd his now famous “I shall return” promise to liberate the Philippines. Received in the Philippines, his message seeped through every nook and corner of the country’s grapevine. Margarita’s town had a strong kinship with MacArthur. His promise strengthened the resolve of its soldiers and civilians to resist the occupying forces.
Surrender of American forces in other Philippine provinces followed after the fall of Bataan and Corregidor. Little known was the fact that most of the Filipino soldiers and some Americans did not surrender. Some went to the hills and organized themselves into disparate groups of fighting units and translated the war into a hit-and-run kind now known as guerilla warfare. Others rejoined their civilian families who survived the Japanese onslaught. Margarita’s soldier brother, who was posted in the southern island of Mindanao, opted not to join his surrendering troop and was tacitly permitted by his commanding officer to leave his unit. He married a native lady and the couple made their way back to Margarita’s town of Danao in the province of Cebu on fishing boats plying between the islands and Mindanao and Cebu. Fishing vessels were generally considered non-hostile by the Japanese occupation forces.
Upon arrival in Danao, Margarita’s brother reported to a guerilla unit informing them of his availability for missions against the occupying troops and requesting to be recalled for duty when MacArthur returns to reorganize the allied army in the Philippines. Mainly he busied himself with helping Margarita find sources of subsistence for the family.
****
During the years of Japanese occupation of the Philippines, segments of the occupation forces tried ways to sway the Filipino’s support to their side of the conflict. In catholic Danao, the Japanese troops maintained order and created a semblance of normalcy in the daily lives of the townsfolk. Common means of livelihood were allowed and small informal gatherings, church services and prayer sessions were tolerated. Japanese non-combatants mingled freely with the native residents. Few even got married with the local maidens.
The island province of Cebu is shaped like an elongated jagged dagger 250 kilometers long and 45 kilometers across at its widest point. In the middle part of the island, mountain ranges, separated by rivers or streams, span almost its entire length. Free-flowing springs abound at the foot of some mountains. Cebu’s coastal areas are generally flat for up to six kilometers from the shorelines.
The Spanish colonizers who came to Cebu centuries earlier settled and built churches in the coastal areas. Native Filipino dwellings clustered around a church forming a colony under Spanish control. When the population grew, the colony evolved to became a town. The Spaniards demarcated a town in a way that part of it lies in the coastal plains and part in the mountainous areas. Thus, in Margarita’s town of Danao, the residents were generally categorized as a plains or a mountain dweller. A typical extended family has some members dwelling in the plains and others in the mountains. The common means of livelihood of the plains dwellers were fishing, salt making and trading while the mountain dwellers subsist by corn farming and raising poultry, hogs and goats. The water buffalo was the main source power for farm tillage and transport. Goods were moved by human carriers and in sliding carriages pulled by water buffalo. Vehicular transport was then scarce in Danao.
Residing on their old house in the plains town proper, Margarita and her brother supported the family by barter trading. They brought salt and other basic items, obtainable in the plains, to the mountains and bartered them with farm products. This means of livelihood required them to climb steep slopes carrying their goods to mountain settlements and return to the plains laden with the bartered products. Margarita’s difficulties in managing support for the family were compounded by the birth of his brother’s son whose mother was suffering from malnutrition.
While the plains dwellers suffered under the rigid rules of the occupying forces and the atrocious activities of their rogue members, the mountain dwellers had to endure only few inconveniences. Cebu’s topography shielded them. There were no vehicular roads to the mountain settlements and Japanese patrols mainly restrict their rounds within the plains.
Ranking officers of the occupation forces in Danao and the non-combatants who came along with them projected the good side of the Japanese. They maintained a code of honor and respect embraced by their samurai ancestors. Many of them were adherents of the Bushido, a Japanese way of life that stresses noble virtues. They were fearless and aspired to die with honor. Margarita’s brother fully recognized these virtues in the last days of the war when, on many occasions, he witnessed captured Japanese soldiers pleading to be shot to death by their captors or be allowed to commit hara-kiri. One particular non-combatant, by the name of Kamada, is still remembered by the townsfolk born during and after the war. The gentle fellow was known to bravely intercede before rigid Japanese authorities to prevent wrongful punishment of some residents alleged to have committed grievous crimes.
Ironically, the good image projected by some members of the Japanese occupation forces was overwhelmingly obliterated by the wanton deeds of their rogue members. These elements acted like arrogant conquerors, treating the townsfolk as their inferior subjects. They expected everyone they meet to bow before them in deference to their supremacy and imposed, at will, severe corporal punishment to even minor acts they deemed as disobedience to their authority. They committed many atrocities which the residents did not report to their superior officers for fear of reprisal. Margarita’s town hated and feared them. The townsfolk hoped and prayed for liberation. Such was the state of Margarita’s town before MacArthur’s return.
****
It took over two years for MacArthur to fulfill his famous promise. With him in the lead, his forces landed in the Philippine province of Leyte in October 1944. Sergio Osmena Sr., the country’s Acting President, a Filipino leader adored in his home province of Cebu was with him when his forces landed.
With a formidable array of naval fleet and thousands of soldiers at his disposal, MacArthur took no time in dispatching forward units to various Philippine provinces. Troops were dispatched to Cebu to organize the fragmented guerrilla units and commence the liberation of the province. The forward troops easily took few towns and established operational bases. Town after town fell later to the American forces.
Filipino guerillas and inactive soldiers who earlier did not surrender to the Japanese reported to the closest American base of operations and were given military duty. Margarita’s brother walked eighty kilometers to report to a base closest to his town and was happy to be assigned as guide to a crack platoon of the famous Americal Division.
****
News of MacArtur’s return created both euphoria and chaos in the province of Cebu. In the liberated towns, the American forces established security zones and civilians flocked to them. The Americans came prepared. They put up tents, distributed blankets and fed the civilians. Their mobile kitchens overflowed with canned food which most civilians had the pleasure of tasting for the first time in their lives. The troops also regaled the civilians with chocolates and cigarettes. After the war civilians who once stayed in the security zones remembered and told and retold of their pleasure watching dog fights between American and Japanese fighter planes.
In Margarita’s town, the Japanese command control broke down. While the honorable members of their troop prepared to fight the Americans, the rogues did the unthinkable.
A band burned the church and many houses. Others went on a rampage and killed any living thing that crossed their path. The civilians scampered in all directions to avoid the rampaging rogue soldiers.
Margarita’s courage and instinct to lead surfaced at this point. She gathered all the family members, urged them to pack up few necessities and told them to be ready to leave. Margarita decided that the mountains will be the safest place to go. Unknown to her was the fact that several bands of rogue Japanese soldiers also decided to go in the same direction to escape from the American forces.
Margarita was a devotee of the Mother of Perpetual Help. Holding the rosary she prayed for her divine help. Her prayers must have heard as the family was able to leave hours ahead of the rogues.
The group walked through the plains and met scores of residents who did not know what to do or where to go. Many followed her small group. The number swelled to hundreds when they reached a hill close to the big mountain. It was already dark when the group stopped to rest while Margarita was thinking of their final destination.
****
Margarita’s horde of tired and hungry civilians reached the slope of the big mountain before daybreak. They spread in small family groups, laid buri mats and jute sacks and slept on them. Hidden by thick canopies of huge trees and surrounded by elephant grasses, they felt confident that their presence could not be detected by a cursory observer from a distance. Early in the morning, the point and scout kids were able to find a stream at the foot of the mountain. The various family units then boiled their corn grits in caves and thickly wooded areas to trap the smoke of the cooking fires, cautious not to give away their location. The horde felt a sense of security for the first time since they started their journey the previous day.
Hours after Margarita’s family left their house, a large band of evil soldiers deserted their troop who later fought and surrendered to the Americans. They headed towards the mountains and arrived in Mantija, a farming mountain village six hours away from the town proper on foot trail. They settled in a cluster of empty bamboo huts near a mountain spring, the villager’s main source for household needs. The original residents have all fled earlier to higher grounds in dense forests.
A hundred kilometers and four towns away, Margarita’s brother was guiding a platoon of troops mopping up Japanese soldiers who did not surrender. Bang! Bang! Bang! Margarita’s brother dived for cover but observed that none of the American soldiers did. They just knelt, listened and tried to determine the origin of fire. He learned later that they were seasoned fighters of the Americal division who fought in Guadalcanal. Margarita’s brother noticed two shaved heads emerging from a small hut from a distance and pointed them to the troops. BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! And the targeted shaved heads disappeared from view. The troop found the fallen bodies to be that of two young Japanese soldiers.
Margarita’s brother suddenly had the strange feeling of premonition when he saw the dead soldiers. He had the same feeling when he was sweating profusely on a chilly night while gripping his machine gun aimed at the incoming Japanese landing barges trying to establish a beachhead in Northern Mindanao. His thoughts wandered about his wife, his child, his mother, and Margarita. After helping the Americans bury the dead soldiers, he sought and was given permission by the troop commander for a leave. He was going to search for his family.
****
Knowing that Danao had been liberated, Margarita’s brother trekked back to the town on trails in areas now controlled by the Americans, Reaching Danao after five days, he inquired about the whereabouts of his family from townsfolk encamped in American enclaves. He eventually found an acquaintance who informed him that his family was last seen heading towards the mountains. “Good God, they will be easy game for Japanese deserters”, he mumbled and shivered.
While with his American troop, Margarita’s brother saw pillaged villages and dead civilians apparently killed by retreating deserters. Now very concerned of his family’s fate, he quickly secured a pack of food supplies from one of the American kitchens and proceeded towards the mountains, unarmed and alone. He guessed that they must have gone to Mantija or a nearby village to seek refuge at the places of relatives living there. Fearful of encountering rogues, he trekked along bushes parallel to but at a safe distance from the trodden trails, carefully observing for any sign of activity or movement.
He reached the outskirts of Mantjja by nightfall, paused from a distance and scouted around. The village was eerily quite- no sign of movement, no lights in the huts, no dogs barking, no nothing, not even a cackle of a chicken disturbed in its sleep. His instinct told him that there’s something not right with the village. He cautiously walked away.
Unknown to Margarita’s brother were the several pairs of eyes watching him. They were aiming there rifles and was waiting for him to come within range. When he walked away, they did not fire. They have a slim chance of hitting him and were conserving their bullets.
Having gone to the place several times when he was young, Margarita’s brother tried to recall the trails they used to tread on when gathering wild vegetables from the forests. He located one and followed it trying to discern in the dark for signs that it has been recently walked on. He wearily plodded away from the village not knowing which way to go. Then, he saw the outlines of a big mountain shaped like a hog’s back, towering over smaller hills. Again his good instincts prevailed as he unconsciously walked towards the mountain and reached the stream that flowed at its foot. He quenched his thirst with the fresh stream water, found a bushy knoll nearby, cleared some space to lie down and slept.
Margarita’s brother was awakened by the sun’s rays that penetrated through the thick bushes and the faint creak of surreptitious footsteps. He arose and could not believe what he saw- women and children fetching water from the stream. Trying not to alarm them, he walked to the group like he was one of them and inquired where Margarita’s family was.
The children escorted him to Margarita. The siblings hugged each other. Tears of joy streamed Margarita’s eyes. “You moved too far. I was lucky to find you”, the brother remarked”. Margarita’s brother became more worried when throngs of men, women and children came to surround them and listened to him. As a good soldier, it was his solemn duty to bring them safely to the American fold.
“Rogue soldiers are between us and the American troops. We will have to run their gauntlet. We will walk by night and stop and hide during the day”, the brother explained to Margarita. She nodded and beckoned the two kids to come closer. “Cipriano, Ponciano, tell the rest that we will start moving before dark. We will walk back by the same route we followed in coming here. Like before, you two will serve point. You will advance ahead by about five hundred meters. If it’s safe, one of you should walk back and make a hand signal for us and the rest to follow. Since you will be walking or running back and forth, you take the foot trail, while the rest of us will walk in the bushes parallel to the trail. Run back if there’s danger. You are quicker than the soldiers. They cannot catch up with you. This way, they cannot kill all of us if ever they find us.”, Margarita instructed the kids. “And by the way, Ponciano, sling that portable urinal on your belt. This small child her will not defecate without it”, added Margarita. She was referring to her young nephew who was always clanging on her hips.
****
It was a moonlit night when their journey back started. The throng’s pace was slow as the younger lead men had to clear thick bushes to cut a trail for the older men, women and children behind them. The journey was mainly uneventful. They had not seen or been seen by any soldier. Ponciano, the more reckless of the two point kids even enjoyed his role of scouting forward and running back and forth the foot path. The throng climbed up and slid down small hills on its path and occasionally stopped at small streams for a short wash and to quench their thirst.
There were even hilarious moments in the throng’s journey. One time when they were atop a small hill, Ponciano’s buri belt snapped dropping the portable urinal tied to it. The thing rolled down the hill with Ponciano chasing it and bringing it up loudly complaining, “Why will this child have to defecate on a urinal when there are lots open spaces where it can be done in comfort and ease!”. On another occasion, they drank from a seemingly clear and fresh water pool only to discover a large pile of buffalo dung up its source stream.
The confidence of the horde grew as they moved forward, even exposing themselves at times in open spaces visible from a distance. That is, until they reached the outskirts of the village of Mantija past midnight.
****
Mantija was a small farming community. Its fertile soil was suited for corn, bananas and coconut farming. Located only three kilometers from the edge of the town’s plains, farmers can easily move their products to and procure supplies from the town proper with buffalo-drawn sliding carts. It was one of the mountain villages not severely affected by the Japanese occupation.
Several families in Margarita’s horde once lived or had relatives in Mantija. With their confidence bolstered by a relatively safe journey, they suggested that the entire horde stop over the village to collect food items and other basic necessities. Margarita’s brother was instinctively alarmed, having had that strange sensation about the village. He persuaded the group not to stop over and instead join the rest in proceeding to the plains while it is still dark. But he could not tell them that there is danger lurking in the village since he did not see anyone when he passed by there the day before. Thus, the throng parted, one group proceeded to the village and the other continued their journey to the plains. Margarita’s brother promised to come for the other group the following day.
****
The splinter group walked toward the village thinking of the things they have to collect and bring to the plains. They spread into different empty huts and had a good night sleep.
The rogues who occupied the huts in the village noticed the coming huge human wave. Thinking that they were accompanied by American soldiers, they hastily left and stayed in the bushes for the night.
Morning came and the civilians gathered together and trooped to the mountain spring to bathe and to fetch fresh water. To their surprise and shock, they were suddenly surrounded by a small group of rogues with rifles trained on them. One who knew some vernacular words spoke to them in a friendly tone. “We are fewer than you. We will not harm you, but for your and our own safety we will split you into small groups”. None of the civilian men carried any arm or bladed implement, so they meekly obeyed hoping that the rogue was not bluffing.
****
Margarita’s group safely arrived in the town proper and was accommodated in one American security enclave. While there was some rejoicing among the group, her brother was worried about those left behind. He reported their plight to the commanding officer who replied that they have already issued the mission orders for the day and there were not enough men to pick up the group left in Mantija. And anyway, their scout plane had not reported any enemy movement in or near that village.
Margarita was likewise worried and the siblings decided that the brother must go together with the two kids, Cipriano and Ponciano. The three left without informing the commanding officer.
****
They moved cautiously as they approached the village trying to discern sounds and movements. There was none. As usual Ponciano, the quicker kid, was dispatched ahead. He came back running and reported, “All dead. They’re all dead. No soldiers”.
The bodies were laid in groups in separate places. All were either bayoneted or have their head chopped off. They inspected the bodies one after another and found two bleeding survivors, an adult man and a young girl in two different piles of bodies. “They assembled us near the spring and picked one group at a time. Our hands were tied. I did not hear any gunfire. I played dead after I was bayoneted.”, related the bleeding man.
“Both of you are too weak to walk and we cannot carry you. We don’t have medicine so we’ll leave just some water for you to drink”. We’ll be back with American soldiers”, Margarita’s brother calmly told the man.
The three quickly left and reported the incident to the American commanding officer. A rescue group of soldiers and civilians were organized and the survivors were brought to the town.
****
The account of the two survivors of the massacre were noted and recorded along with the many other similar incidents that happened during the war. It will probably remain buried as a short paragraph in the American military archives of the Second World War.
Margarita and her family survived the war and she passed on forty years later. She died in the town’s hospital surrounded by grieving nephews and nieces and descendents of the civilians she had saved.
Margarita expressed her only wish to the child she once protected and carried with her during their plight- to be laid to rest together with her mother Crispina. The wish was fulfilled. Margarita and Crispina now share a common tomb in the city of Danao, Philippines.
(Note: This is a true story. It is based on the accounts of this writer’s late father, a soldier during the Second World War, and several civilians, including Cipriano and Ponciano, the two kids mentioned in the story. They are still alive at this writing.)
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Reviewed by T. Schwimmer
1/5/2008
I'm sure there were so many unimaginable things that happened during WWII, but the steadfast courage and sense of unity that 'your' family and townspeople shared during that war was truly remarkable. Few would do those heroic acts as Margarita did. God bless her! You told the story with such grace and flair, Regino. Well done.
This is a story that deserves to be preserved, Regino. Thank you for telling it so well. I understand your feelings for my poem, Oh my father, better now. Many of us share a commonality of what our families did in that war. God bless Margarita...Jerry
Not only is this a story but it is also an historical account and thus an educational experience. Thank you for sharing it Regino. Love and peace to you my friend,
"Margarita's Ark"
Regino, you have such a wonderous way in which you write your narratives.
Thank you for continuing your writing and presentations here at the den your works surely are real treasures.
Have a wonderful journey filled with many splendors,
From the Heart of an Artist Quiet Storm
GLIMPSE OF AN ANGEL IS NOW AVAILABLE. A PORTION OF ALL SALES WILL GO TO HOSPICE TO THUS ENABLE THEM TO HELP OTHERS WHO ARE SOON TO PASS TO THE OTHER SIDE. NO LONGER AVAILABLE.
