“Good men die tragically, and the best die in combat”
For a minute, envision the coffins empty, the funeral
grounds free of people, free of misery. Imagine the young men and their young
bodies doing the work of youth. Imagine the parents watching a television drama
or chatting on the porch with their neighbors. Pretend the death-folded flags
are stacked on a sergeant’s supply shelf, gathering dust rather than grief.
None of these however is true, because more corpses are en route, and more
broken bodies, shattered troubles, damaged souls. And the end result is the
same: a body in the ground, a family struck with grief, a mother or sister or
wife or husband holding a flag folded triangle that means death.
I was fated to be a soldier. I wanted to be just like my
father that fought for the freedom of my beloved land. Dad had survived combats
in Mindanao and overseas wherever they were deployed, but I might go fight for
my country and die, tragically and heroically—I’d die in the storied bloody
fields of Philippine history where my father had not. I’d grown up around the
military, and, without being aware of it, internalized the military’s explicit
power and philosophy. I had pallets full of honor and sacrifice waiting on the
ports, manifested for shipment to remote lands, unsafe, and bizarre.
As I leave my family behind. I leave with them the best of
me that they may be at peace that I will be safe. As I kiss my children and hug
my wife goodbye, I contained myself from showing my weakness.
I can’t promise my wife anything.
I cannot promise you every night of my life. I cannot
promise to be beside for every difficult moment, every trial, and every
hardship. In truth, I can promise you that I will not be with you for most. I
will leave you at inconvenient times. I may miss the births of our children.
Any special date to us may be tainted with the anniversary of the death of one
of my friends.
I will shut you out at times because it will be the best way
for me to hold it to get you at that moment. I will lie to you. I will tell you
I don't know things when I do. I will not always tell you where I am going,
when I will be back, or who I am with. I may not call you for weeks and months
and you will not be able to call me. You will ask questions that I won't
answer. I will share things with my brothers that you will never understand.
They will know things about me that you never will. They will be a support to
me in some things that you cannot be.
I will miss birthdays. I will miss anniversaries. I will
have to get to know our children over and over again. I may need time to
process things that seem natural to everyone else. It will seem that someone -
or something - will always take precedence over you. You may lose me long
before you ever thought possible. Sand and mud will be tracked through your
halls from the boots I am too tired to take off. I will leave you when you beg
me not to. I will stand at attention while you cry beside me. I will not turn
my head and I will walk away. I will knowingly break your heart. And I will do
it again - and again.
I cannot promise you all of me. I cannot promise that to our
children. I cannot promise you much of anything.
But if you will have me, I can promise that as I march away
from you it is not without sharing you heartache. I promise you that every time
I break your heart I will be breaking mine. Every time that I cannot answer you
I will be protecting you. I will protect everything that we have created to get
you with every fiber of my being while you do the same back at home. I will
honor you in everything - every moment that we are apart and every moment that
I am with you. I will fight harder and push further knowing that I do so for
you. I will see the faces of our children in every life that I protect. And I
will carry you with me in everything until my sandy boots once again sit just
inside our door.
Please be patient in waiting for me. It might take long but
I must fight for the freedom of our land that every person will enjoy living in
peace as they sleep. I may sacrifice my life for it to happen, but this is what
I wanted it for. If I may die, please don’t weep for me, for I died in a combat
accomplished knowing that I kept you safe and protected you and the people
until my last breath. I will forever be guiding and looking over you and our
children as they grow. And soon I will be coming home.
To my baby, although you may not remember me, I want you to know how very much
your Daddy loves you. I left when you were 9 months old. Leaving you was
the hardest thing I've ever had to do. You are so very special to me- you
are truly a gift from God. The best day of my life was the day you were
born. Every time I saw you smile my heart would just melt. You were
my sweetie - my life was not complete until you were born. I am so sorry I will
not be able to see you grow up. But remember, your Daddy is not gone. I
am in heaven now smiling down on you every day. You are so very lucky to
have such a wonderful Mom to take care of you. Make sure you are good for
her and help her out whenever you can. Always remember to say your
prayers at night and be thankful for all your many blessings. Never forget how
important and special you are to so many people. We love you so very much. When
you get older and start school, do your best and try to learn as much as you
can about the world you live in. Always be nice and caring to others and you
will discover that the world will be nice to you. But when things aren't going
your way, never forget that God knows what is best for you and everything will
work out in the end. You have such a bright and beautiful future ahead of you.
Have fun. Enjoy it. And remember, your Daddy will always be proud of you and
will always love you. You are and will always be my sweetie.
To my mom, I’m sorry I've left your heart broken
when I entered the military. You said you would even work harder to send
me to a university so that I’ll not enter the academy. But I insisted and never
informed you until the day that I entered the institution. You cried. I know
Mom that you love me, but this is what I wanted to do.
You didn't even talk to me for weeks. But you sent food secretly on
Sundays when I’m free. You didn't also miss my graduation, even
though you said you will not tend to, you cried again seeing me walk up
that stage with honors bringing pride to our family. You smiled as I wave at
you in the crowd.
The second time I broke your heart was when I was deployed
in the southern part of our country. You didn't say a word but you
hugged me and gave me a rosary. I can hear your whimper as I walk towards
the ship waiting on the docks. I didn't want to look back, for I will see
your beautiful face in pain again. Every time we go on a mission, I
always pray with the rosary you gave me as I put our family picture in the
secret pocket I made in my hat and hang the rosary around my neck together with
my dog tag. When there is news apropos encounters with the rebels, you
frantically call me and check if I’m alright. You said I will always be the
baby you carried in your womb for 9 months where you endured the morning
sickness, swelling of your feet and labor pains. For short vacations, you never
fail to amuse me with your delicacies and expertise in cooking; in return I
always gain extra pounds when I’m at home. You have always said, “Only God
knows how much I feared those knocks on the door, I was always hoping that no
one will come rushing in and say that my baby is dead.”
If time comes that I may not see you again, I know it will
be the third time that I will break your heart, that I've made you cry a
thousand times. But please forgive me for I love you and I will be coming home
soon. You’re such a part of who I am. Don’t worry much about me.
Dad, you were always my hero and statue since then. I grew
up having to see you around the house for just a numbered of times. You were
also out there protecting our land, I always ask mom why you are not around,
and why do you have to go to war, now I understand as I join you and take your
place. It’s time for you to be home and enjoy the comfort of having mom around.
Your principles and guidance in life that have brought me to where I am, I am
thankful of. A snappy salute Dad for being a good father and a defender of this
land, I give to you. I’ll try to stay alive and not to die in the hands
of the enemy but if I die in combat, be the strength of mom for in no time, I
will be coming home again.
I’m a descendant of brave heroes that in my blood runs the royalty and bravery
of Lapu-lapu who fought against the Spaniards to defend the land from their
conquest; the gallant blood of Dr. Jose Rizal that feared no one, and so with
the courageous and noble bloods of General Gregorio del Pilar and Andres
Bonifacio who fearlessly fought and won battles for our freedom. Heroes that
were brave enough to stand up for what they believe and follow it through. This
is what the blood of a soldier is composed of.
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"It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has
given us freedom of the press. It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given
us freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who has
given us the freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier, who salutes the flag,
who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows
the protester to burn the flag." -- Father Dennis Edward O'Brien, USM
