May 31, 2000

Last Sunday, after coming from my boss' radio program sa AM band and after

hearing all the discussions about the war in Mindanao and stuff, I decided

to write this letter. I spent three days deciding whether to send it but

I've decided to expose my thoughts, my feelings to the people I grew up

with:

Dear Batchmates,

To start off, please forgive me for what will be a long, emotional and

not-so-social-and-light message, but I feel that to us who have been given

much, much is also asked from. I do not expect you all to react with

sweeping actions, but it would be good if we could pray at night with a

clear knowledge of what we are, in the first place, praying for and about.

I was in a moviehouse once with a friend and an advertisement for the Armed

forces of the Philippines came on. It was titled "Kawal ang Tatay Ko" and

featured children of our soldiers singing a tribute to their fathers.

Videos showed our Army, Navy, and Airforce personnel in the different roles

they play in society. I cried. My friend teased me and laughed. I felt bad.

In the light of what is happening to our brothers in the South, I

oftentimes feel helpless and frustrated in trying to make some of my

friends understand what I've seen and experienced in the line of duty. But

I know I have to keep on trying. So please bear with me.

On one occasion about a month ago, Sen. Honasan decided to make the rounds

of AFP camps and talk to the soldiers and feel their "pulse". We went to

Camp Tecson in Bulacan, home of the Scout Rangers, our Army's elite group.

Sila ang mga unang unang hinaharap sa kalaban pag gera, panugod kung baga.

A lot of their officers are young. Most are our age.

We were informed that the group we met in the camp was just a skeletal

force since a lot of them were already deployed to Kauswagan the day

before. They expressed their concerns to my boss. They spoke of their pay

and benefits and it broke my heart to hear the dialogue, feel their anxiety

as they looked out into space as if contemplating on what would be of them.

The same story unfolded with the Marines, elite naman ng Navy. I met Capt.

Ivan Papera, an injured marine. He has a glass left eye. When asked what

happened, he responded by saying "sir, I donated my left eye to the battle

of Basilan"

A few days after that conversation, we found out that he was once more

shipped out to the very same place where his vision was shot. He's only 30

years old.

He, along with hundreds of others, are being sent to Mindanao to wallop the

enemy - for a combat pay of P8.00 a day.

Eight pesos a day! KILL OR BE KILLED for eight pesos a day - can you all

believe it? And yet there they are, our soldiers. They face their fears...

wala nga namang pinipili ang bala - muslim man o kristiyano.

Believe me, handang mamatay para sa atin ang mga ito ready to die at 24,

25, 26 years old - for us. And for what? For the kind of salary that won't

even pay for their coffins if they die in battle. Oo, meron nang batas na

nagbibigay ng increase sa kanilang mga

sweldo, but this is an UNFUNDED LAW. Para bang pang P.R. lang ang mga

balitang tumaas na ng husto ang kanilang bayad.

Can you imagine being sent to war at our age? I'm only beginning to find my

place in this world at 28! We will never know. But I caught a glimpse of

it as I stared into the eyes of a Col. who just came back from Kauswagan

hours before our conversation, telling the story of how a friend of his

died when he "caught" a bullet in his chest a bullet which Col. Querubin

felt was meant for him, not his friend nagkataong hinarangan siya ng

kaibigan niya.

Have you seen a soldier cry? Pamatay. Kung sine pa lang eh umiiyak na tayo,

see the real thing. A soldier fighting for a people who hardly see them as

heroes, a government that barely addresses their concerns. They're taking

care of us, who's taking

care of them?

Read an article by Mon Tulfo published in the Inquirer a few days ago. He

called our soldiers "tanga" and "mga gago" for not being able to contain

the situation. Has he been to war at all? A reply letter by Mrs. Susan

Abaya ordered Tulfo to listen to the interview of a Sgt. Villanueva who

lost both his legs recently in Basilan. He said that he will never file for

retirement because he still has his life to give over again, 2 legs short

but still. Tulfo apologized in print.

This is the vicious cycle that made the Mindanao situation explode - it's a

story which has been going on for decades. Filipinos vote for their

officials based on popularity and not credibility and sincerity of service,

kanya kanyang kurakot, nawawalan ang

bayan. Meanwhile, disgruntled people turn rebels. Rebels storm towns.

Soldiers are called in (with their outdated armaments and Spartan slippers

sometimes). Soldiers wallop the enemy and they are town heroes. Soldiers

have done their duties mandated

them so they tell the townsfolk that the government agencies will now take

over.

Time passes, no DSWD, no DPWH, Mayor is getting richer by the

minute=85disgruntled people again. Soldiers once more get a call to the

same town. They go back to find the same enemies and get ready to teach

them a lesson. But then how come the townspeople give them dagger looks?

Because in the eyes of the townspeople, THEY are the liars, they are the

enemies now because they promised that things will be better, but they

didn't get better=85and the Mayor is still getting richer by the minute,

the higher officials, by the second.

So why am I trying to make people understand? Because not a lot would. But

those who do can make a difference even in little ways. We may pray for our

soldiers, but Scout Ranger Lt. Ruben Guinolbay, a friend of mine, who's

only 27 years old and who's

probably in the zones right now doesn't know that. I think we should let

them know that we thank them for staying in the battlefield while we sleep

beneath the "blanket of protection" that they provide us with night after

night.

In the movie "The Beach", one of the guys survived being mangled by a

shark but ended up with a festering leg. Their "perfect" little community

could not deal with his cries of pain and suffering so they decided to

leave him just outside of their village in a tent.

Basically, left him there to die. And they went back to their perfect

little way of life.

The situations I have pointed out are our cries of pain. The stories I tell

bother us, make us uncomfortable because they upset our cocoon. But we will

have to know it, we will have to face it, we will have to understand it,

for if not, how different are we from those people who left their companion

to die? I know we know better because we got good values (yes, SPCP horror

stories considered!)

I hardly expect us to rally and turn renegade activists but small things

can snowball and miracles can happen with collective prayer and action (for

those who feel like it). And believe me, this will pass and the country

will then be setting its eyes on us, or on our children, to make the

changes. Claim your stake na in this process kung may miracle ngang

mangyayari at maliwanagan ang sambayanang Pilipino.

Batchmates, forgive me if I've said too much or sucked you into feeling the

disturbance, but I believe that beyond our own stories is a link and

friendship that allow us to acknowledge, appreciate, and even evaluate each

other. And I know this'll make us value life

better. I know I have, sa mga kwento niyo pa lang!