by Nunilo M. de Leon
Malolos was still in a state of confused excitement when we arrived in Tampoy. It was relatively untouched by the war, the damage being limited to the outskirts, i.e. the area in and around the provincial capitol and the railroad. The railroad depot had been completely wrecked by US bombing and strafing but the railways themselves had little damage. Surprisingly the buildings near the depot, including the railroad inn, were left almost untouched, except for some bullet holes, proof of the accuracy of the US fighter pilots, who were doing their runs at a very low level. However, the provincial capitol, which had a commanding view of the national highway and the railroad, had been badly damaged. From the outside, it looked intact but the interior was another matter. A platoon-size Japanese unit had holed up in the provincial capitol grounds to try and repulse the Americans who were advancing down the highway from their river crossing in Bagbag. US Army artillery fire had to be brought down on the capitol; flamethrowers, bazookas and grenades were used on the Japanese who had fought to the last man, all the way from the national road down to the capitol basement. The other provincial government buildings, including the provincial hospital, the constabulary barracks, the provincial jail or “Lex”, the provincial high school, the provincial trade school and the provincial staff’s residences were almost unscathed. Nonetheless, they could not be immediately put to use, not because of battle damage but because of looting and neglect.
Soon after their return, the Americans re-established a local government, with the help of the BMA guerillas who were already in almost full control of the province when the liberating forces arrived. A provincial governor was appointed, guerilla Colonel Alejo Santos the commanding officer of the BMA. Since the provincial capitol was unusable, the casa real in the center of town became the temporary provincial capitol with the casa real’s tiny 2-story annex becoming the governor’s residence. Guerilla Major Adonais Maclang, a Maloleño and one of the BMA’s leaders in Malolos, was appointed mayor of the town. He held office in the municipio, which was untouched by the war. The greatly-weakened municipal police force was called back to duty and reinforced with new members coming from the local guerilla units, including the new chief of police, Constancio Joson, a guerilla officer from Santa Isabel district. The public market soon resumed operations and business activities slowly began to revive. However, things were far from completely normal. Both the municipal and provincial governments were not fully functioning, waiting for the national government to be reestablished.
Malolos was still in a state of confused excitement when we arrived in Tampoy. It was relatively untouched by the war, the damage being limited to the outskirts, i.e. the area in and around the provincial capitol and the railroad. The railroad depot had been completely wrecked by US bombing and strafing but the railways themselves had little damage. Surprisingly the buildings near the depot, including the railroad inn, were left almost untouched, except for some bullet holes, proof of the accuracy of the US fighter pilots, who were doing their runs at a very low level. However, the provincial capitol, which had a commanding view of the national highway and the railroad, had been badly damaged. From the outside, it looked intact but the interior was another matter. A platoon-size Japanese unit had holed up in the provincial capitol grounds to try and repulse the Americans who were advancing down the highway from their river crossing in Bagbag. US Army artillery fire had to be brought down on the capitol; flamethrowers, bazookas and grenades were used on the Japanese who had fought to the last man, all the way from the national road down to the capitol basement. The other provincial government buildings, including the provincial hospital, the constabulary barracks, the provincial jail or “Lex”, the provincial high school, the provincial trade school and the provincial staff’s residences were almost unscathed. Nonetheless, they could not be immediately put to use, not because of battle damage but because of looting and neglect.
Soon after their return, the Americans re-established a local government, with the help of the BMA guerillas who were already in almost full control of the province when the liberating forces arrived. A provincial governor was appointed, guerilla Colonel Alejo Santos the commanding officer of the BMA. Since the provincial capitol was unusable, the casa real in the center of town became the temporary provincial capitol with the casa real’s tiny 2-story annex becoming the governor’s residence. Guerilla Major Adonais Maclang, a Maloleño and one of the BMA’s leaders in Malolos, was appointed mayor of the town. He held office in the municipio, which was untouched by the war. The greatly-weakened municipal police force was called back to duty and reinforced with new members coming from the local guerilla units, including the new chief of police, Constancio Joson, a guerilla officer from Santa Isabel district. The public market soon resumed operations and business activities slowly began to revive. However, things were far from completely normal. Both the municipal and provincial governments were not fully functioning, waiting for the national government to be reestablished.
The Americans had been in Manila for nearly a month but still could not dislodge the Japanese from their strongholds in and around Intramuros. Fierce battles were to continue there for another month, resulting in tens of thousands of casualties, mostly Filipino civilians. The mountains, which formed the watersheds of the dams of Ipo and Montalban, were still under Japanese control, which meant that there would be no electricity or piped-in water in the interim. This did not pose too much of a problem. We had been living under such conditions off-and-on during the past several years. Clearing of the watersheds were eventually assigned to, and successfully carried out, mainly by the guerillas of Bulacan and Rizal.
There were a lot of American soldiers in Malolos, all of them non-combat personnel of 14th US Army Corps units. The Malolos Central Elementary School housed a US Army field hospital. A dirt airstrip was bulldozed out of the rice fields west of the provincial road in barrio San Juan, able to accommodate small aircraft, such as Piper Cubs. The planes made air reconnaissance flights and brought in the critically wounded for treatment at the field hospital. Some engineering, supply and military police units were also encamped in the provincial capitol grounds.
Some American enlisted men from the Quartermaster battalion in the provincial capitol came regularly to the Tampoy house. They would bring gifts with them; candy bars and cans of fruit juice, powdered egg-cocoa-milk, Nestle coffee powder and Spam. They would come after supper and stay for about an hour. They spent the time conversing with the De Leon ladies; Tia Monang, Tia Helen, Tia Lily and Inang. Turina, who was a very outgoing teen-ager joined in entertaining the soldiers. The introverted Nina stayed away, although it was obvious that she had a crush on one of the soldiers. I still remember the names of two of them; Chuck from Virginia and Archie from Arkansas. Chuck, who seemed to be a music lover, hit it off with Tia Monang who played the piano for the group whenever they came. The soldiers were especially at ease with Tia Helen, who was half American. The soldiers, all very well-behaved, were mildly astounded about the level of our “Americanization” and seemed quite at home in the house. Those visits must have reduced their homesickness. They had previously been based in Papua New Guinea and more than welcomed the change in scenery.
They asked about the diplomas hanging over the seven doorways which opened on the ballroom-sized sala. The ladies proudly pointed out that six of them were from the University of the Philippines, which had graduated all the De Leon – Pantangco siblings; Paz, Josefa and Ramona in Education, Carlos in Civil Engineering, Antonio in Medicine and Roque in Commerce. Over the seventh door was a diploma, written in Spanish, awarded by the Dominican Pontifical University of the Philippines to Lolo Ramon, who had finished law there.
I was particularly impressed by the way the Americans dealt with soldiers who got out of line. Not too often, an American soldier would wander around town, drunk and disorderly. He did not get the chance to be drunk and disorderly for too long. Very soon, a couple of MPs or military policemen would come in a jeep. They would ask the soldier to hop in. If the invitation was refused, one of the MPs, usually the burliest, would get off the jeep, knock out the inebriated soldier with one punch on the jaw, bundle him into the jeep and bring him to the stockade. End of show. Very little fuss and bother about human rights and due process. Peace and order speedily restored. I could not help but contrast this with the first drunk I saw years before in Paracale, Camarines Norte, when I was in Grade l. The drunk was allowed to wander around for more than an hour, bolo in one hand and a bottle in the other. When the police were finally called, all they did was chat with the drunk for another hour and wait for him to pass out before bringing him to the town “calaboso”. While all this was going on, the whole neighborhood was in a high state of alarm. Things were certainly not peaceful and orderly for several hours.
For entertainment, movies were shown twice a week in the field hospital at seven in the evening. The movie screen was out in the open on the school lawn and everyone was free to watch. At least once a week, we would go see the movies. I remember seeing Casablanca and Gaslight. I do not remember what the other movies were but one can still see them on TCM or Turner Classic Movies. Tio Aurel’s family lived just across the street from the field hospital and must have seen a lot of those movies.
I also noticed how much food the Americans had, much of it going to waste. Their kitchen and mess hall were beside the outdoor theater and I could see the barrels of leftovers which they poured into pits and burned every night. Filipinos were then still too proud or picky or not impoverished enough to ask for these leftovers; for hog feed, maybe yes. No “pagpag” gourmands then.
Not long after came the complete liberation of Manila in April 1945. The Philippine government became almost fully operational, although there were still pockets of Japanese soldiers holding out in remote mountainous areas of the country. The Philippines was then still a US commonwealth and much of the government authority and responsibility were still exercised by the American military. Only they had the manpower and material resources needed to get things done. With the help of the US Army engineers, the National Power Corporation began to restore electrical power and revive all the other activities that depended on it. The Japanese had confiscated most of the motor vehicles for their own use. These had largely been completely destroyed or unusable and in need of much repair. The railways system could not operate. Although the tracks were almost intact, all of the locomotives and many of the railroad cars had been destroyed or damaged. The military motor vehicles which the Americans brought with them were being used exclusively for military purposes and for some essential government services. Civilians continued to depend on animal-drawn vehicles for transportation.
Life in Malolos was essentially back to normal not long after the complete cessation of fighting in Manila. The newly-established local government reopened much of its services, giving priority to the schools and public markets.
After fighting died out in Manila, Tatang decided to visit the city and find out what had happened to his pre-war employer, Marsman Development Corp. He learned that his immediate boss, Alexander Morris, had failed to escape from the country in 1941. He and his family, wife Dorothy and daughter Margaret, were captured in Manila by the Japanese and interned at the University of Santo Tomas, together with other civilian-citizens of nations considered allies of the USA. They were then still in-country but were planning to go home to England soon as the sea routes were safe. Georgi Skribikin, the White Russian, was considered by the Japanese to be from a friendly nation. They allowed him to stay in the country, which he did. He was even able to start a family with a Filipina during the war. He must have fared quite well, but then White Russians should know a lot about surviving. His descendants have remained in the country.
A couple of weeks afterwards, Tatang was asked by the firm to report to their newly reopened main office in Manila. There he learned that there had been a change of plans. Operations of the Marsman logging concession in Camarines Norte were to be resumed soonest. There was a huge demand for lumber from everywhere; to reconstruct what had been destroyed or damaged during the war. This opportunity should not be missed. A few days later, Tatang left for Camarines Norte, with Morris, Skribikin, and other key staff from Manila. They were to meet up in Daet with other former staff members who were from the Bicol Region. The Morris’ rest and recuperation in England had to wait for another time.
Inang and the rest of our family had to stay behind in Tampoy. Nobody knew what the living conditions were going to be in Camarines Norte. The firm was going to start from scratch as most of the old facilities and housing had been destroyed during the war. Besides, Inang was again with child, her fifth.
Other members of the clans were also to return to their occupations. Tio Amado went back to Manila and movie-making, with his whole family. Tio Carlos received a new assignment as district engineer for the province of Tarlac. He left Tampoy with his entire family in tow. The Peñas went back to their old house in the capitol grounds. Tia Epang resumed her teaching job at the nearby Bulacan Provincial High School while Tio Aurel was given another job as a government auditor in Manila and had to commute to work daily. Tio Toniong and Tia Lily also went back to work in Manila but continued to stay in Tampoy. They had to make a daily commute. Tia Monang also went back to her teaching job at the Bulacan Provincial High School.
We went back to school which had been suspended for almost four months. To make up, classes were held even on Saturdays and sessions were lengthened. We were able to finish the school year late in June 1945, only two months behind the usual schedule. Electricity had not yet been restored but kerosene for fuel had already been made available. We bought new air-pressured “Coleman” filament kerosene lamps. These provided much more light than the war-time coconut oil “gaseras” and were used in the kitchen, the comedor and the library; for cooking, for supper and for doing school homework. Elsewhere, the handy “gaseras” continued to be used.
Sports equipment became available and the school built a basketball court for the boys. Here, I first actually played the game although I had already learned to play it from watching all those games in the “palengke” and Tampoy. I became a member of our class team and was later appointed the captain. We played mainly in our intramurals.
The last months of Grade 6 were very difficult for me but not because of the usual scholastic reasons. On the contrary, I knew that I was going to be the class valedictorian but I dreaded the thought of making the traditional valedictory address. My first cousin, Josie, was to be the salutatorian but did not seem to be bothered by the thought of making the salutatory speech. I tried to get out of the predicament to no avail. I had to suffer through the series of agonizing rehearsals and, finally, the ultimate torture of the actual speech. I survived the ordeal and went on to enjoy the very brief vacation which followed.
For our vacation, Inang took us to Cuyapo, Nueva Ecija. We stayed with Yeye, who, failing to recover from tuberculosis, had finally decided to leave the priesthood. Just before the war, he had left the Hospicio de San Jose, where he had been hospitalized, and had returned to Cuyapo. The well-off Flores family of Cuyapo had accepted him as a member of the family. Two of the Flores daughters, Fidela and Felisa, had been studying before the war at the Immaculata Academy of Malolos, as student-boarders. Yeye was staying with them in their large family house behind the Cuyapo railroad depot, inside a compound which housed their rice mill, warehouse and farm equipment garage.
We were welcomed in the Flores house, given one of the bedrooms for our quarters and provided with what amounted to an all-expenses-paid vacation. Lolo Luis was there with Yeye and my first cousin, Florencio Flores Macapugay, who was a year younger than Tancio. Inang’s other brothers, Tio Jose and Tio Joaquin, traveled from San Nicolas, where they were residing, to visit us for a while in Cuyapo. They came with their eldest sons, Ben and Junior. There was not much to do in Cuyapo and we spent our time exploring the nooks and crannies of their large garage/warehouse. All sorts of heavy farm equipment were there; idle since the war began because there was no fuel to run them. The family was in the business of renting out farm equipment to big farm owners of Cuyapo and nearby towns. We also became familiar with how a large rice mill operates. And, best of all, there were boxing gloves and punching bags there, together with a number of suitable sparring partners. I do not remember how we traveled to Cuyapo but I do remember the trip back; a ride in a Philippine Army weapons carrier, which took us all the way back to Tampoy. The noncom, who was in-charge of the truck was courting Fidela and offered us a ride to impress her. He said he was going back to Manila anyway.
Hi Mr. de Leon, I really appreciate your sharing this wonderful tale with the world. My grandfather is the late Constancio Joson, and I stumbled upon this gem of a blog in one of my rampant searches for more insight into my own history. My Lolo, though a man of the people and chief of police as you posted here, never really delved into stories about his loyal service to the community with family. I would really love to learn more about him, and hope we can get in touch to share some possibly overlapping historic accounts. This in itself really amazed me, and I thank you again. Best, Julianna J.