A happy and peaceful Easter

After riding on our bikes and surveying the surroundings, I went to join my men on the beach. I have earlier approved the “beach party,” in observance of the customary affair of families to cool-off from the summer heat, timed with the celebration of Easter. While traveling, I saw traffic building up—all heading for the beach—a common scene throughout the country at the end of the Holy Week.







The beach was indeed full of people. I enjoyed seeing them especially the children playing either with the sand or on the waves. For my troops, it seemed that my presence alone already made them happy. So I joined them on their tables for banter with their families posing for photo shots with them. Noting a number of children, we paid on wholesale the contents of a passing local ice cream cart—to the delight of the vendor. However, the children were more thrilled as they ganged up for their free share. Later, we feasted on the potlucks prepared by the soldiers and their families.

I left them to enjoy a dip in the tempting sea and to give them more time with their families and friends. From there, I checked on the nearby resorts and found all these to be also packed with people. I was happy with the thought that the locals now find time to enjoy the peace and quiet of the day with their loved ones. I mused at how this peaceful condition came about: by those who courageously faced the perceived uncertain situation; by those who exerted all efforts to ensure the peace; and by the security forces, including the soldiers, who stood on guard and patrolled the countryside to protect the communities.

May the meaning of this day give us more vigor to renew our pursuit for peace in the land. Happy Easter Sunday to all.

Memories of the heart

By stroke of fate, I found myself again posted in the same place--Lanao--for the 3rd time: first as a junior officer in the early 80s, then as battalion commander in 2000, and now as brigade commander. Fond memories of the past easily come by on idle days, as on Valentine’s Day, more so when away from our loved ones.

Far from my loved ones on the “Day of the Hearts” and after 24 years, I finally managed to visit my marital godparents: former Linamon Mayor Albertino and Citsunsicion Macas. Both of them, now in their early 80's, were in high spirits and had just arrived from their separate civic and social activities. Where years ago stood their wooden house, as I can still vividly recall, had already been replaced with concrete structures.

















Over a chocolate cake that I especially made out for them, we reminisced the past as much as we could remember. I obviously had to fill in the events in between since the time I last saw them. As I did, they delighted going-over the pictures of my family and that of my grandson--the same images I had locked in my heart.

In bidding goodbye to give them more time on their own, I was amazed at how they aged gracefully and appeared quite fulfilled. I then realized how time passed so quickly as we get passionately consumed in pursuing our dreams, but missing on the little and pleasant things in life. I walked away with a strange feeling of an intense longing for the company of my own family. Perhaps, indeed, as we grow older, we come to think more of home.

On my way back to camp, I shook myself out of my reverie to focus on what still lays ahead: continuing with life’s journey and drawing inspiration from the many memories kept in my heart.

The profession of arms

In my recent visit of a hinterland outpost, I surveyed soldiers going about their routine tasks. I know this is a typical sight, particularly at the front, as soldiers carry out their sworn duties of protecting the country and the people. While this is expected from soldiers, the thought of their sacrifices especially being away from their families is heartrending on my part, as a father. The scene is reminiscent of the culture of soldiering as described in the 1932 “The Edge of the Sword” book by French General Charles de Gaulle:

“Men who adopt the profession of arms submit of their own free will to a law of perpetual constraint. Of their own accord they reject the right to live where they choose, to say what they think, to dress as they like. From the moment they become soldiers it needs but an order to settle them in this place, to move them to that, to separate them from their families and dislocate their normal lives. On the word of command they must rise, march, run, endure bad weather, go without sleep or food, be isolated in some distant post, work till they drop. They have ceased to be the masters of their fate. If they drop in their tracks, if their ashes are scattered to the four winds, that is all part and parcel of their job.”

As a commander, I owe an explanation to the families of our soldiers especially their children to make them understand what it means to have a parent to be in the “Profession of Arms.” Hence, I find it fitting to post below the December 2008 letter of the Commanding General of the Philippine Army addressed to the soldiers’ children. (Original version in Pilipino)

Letter to Soldiers' Children

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Humane side of the uniform

Here is an interesting post by Violeta Gloria entitled Dining with a Colonel providing a civilian-writer's insight of the "man in uniform." The article reveals the hidden and human side of a soldier rarely exposed to the public. At the same time, it shows the critical and observant eye of a true journalist.