Lillian had the baby with her. She was not allowed inside the prison walls but
was able to send in lunch for her husband and for the two other officers. It
was past one o'clock in the afternoon. She called out to Popong by whistling
the first five notes of their song, "I'll Be Seeing You."
The prison windows were eight feet high and the room did not have any
furniture. So Popong had to get up on the shoulder of one of his co-prisoners
to get to the window.
"Did you like the kosilba?" she was hoarsely yelling. She was standing with the
sleeping baby in her arms on the open grounds about fifty feet from the prison
window. Her eyes were still swollen but she tried hard to be brave and not
embarrass herself. She knew the family hated any public display of private
emotions such as grief or anger.
"Yes." He answered back. Lillian thought he sounded short with her and was
about to start crying until he yelled back at her, "I want to see my baby!"
Lillian removed the soft cotton cloth made from a flour sack covering Erlinda
and lifted her up for Popong to see.
"She's so beautiful! She looks just like you!"
She lost control. Tears started cascading down her cheeks. She tried to hide
her face from her husband by kissing the baby's chest but her slender body was
almost convulsed with soundless weeping.
"Pong, Oh, Pong !"
"Stop. Don't cry. Everything will be all right. I will probably be out by
tomorrow. How are Nanay Cedes and the kids? Did the soldiers bother you at
all?"
Popong's ploy worked. She stopped crying and answered back, "No. They never
came. Some of your cousins did, Casian, Moling, Cacoy. They were worried about
us."
"Tell them I'll be all right and that I will probably be out before supper
tomorrow." he lied.
"Do you need anything? Do you want anything?"
Popong smiled at her. "No." he shouted back. "Yes," he thought. "I need you. I
need to hug you and kiss you. Yes, I want to hold our baby in my arms and sing
her to sleep. Yes, I want to live."
"No, I don't need anything." he lied again.
Sergeant Ohno slammed the prison door with the butt of his rifle.
"Enough. Get down on the floor, now!" he yelled. Popong turned his head and
looked at the ugly mongoloid who had hair sticking out of his nose. He turned
to look at Lillian again. "Go home. I shall be there tomorrow night. Lil,
always remember - I love you!"
"I'll always love you, too." She shouted back but she doubted if he heard her.
Her voice had become hoarse from crying.
"Come down now or I will shoot you down." Ohno was dead serious, pointing his
rifle at Popong's head, his finger on the trigger. He wanted to have an excuse
to shoot Popong.
"All right, all right." He slid down the back of his comrade.
Ohno left to go back to his quarters. He really resented being ordered by
Watanabe to clean up Popong's uniform and shoes. "I am not a servant!" he
thought. But disciplined obedience was so ingrained in him he just nodded and
bowed every time Watanabe or Hirai said anything. Ohno was Captain Hirai's
right hand man. He did all the dirty work, the torture and the killing, for
Hirai. But Sergeant Ohno really questioned Captain Hirai's sexual preference.
He had seen him gazing at the bodies of the sweating Filipino prisoners with
more than just passing interest. He had not caught him do anything
incriminating but still he despised him. Watanabe was an entirely different
story. Ohno was scared of him yet respected him at the same time. He thought
Watanabe was his idea of a perfect soldier. But being ordered to wash and press
the uniform of an enemy prisoner was much too degrading, even for him.
In his life's finest hour, Popong was in a world of his own. He went back as
far as his mind could take him. He remembered how soothing his mother's soft
and cool hands were on his forehead when he had a fever as a toddler, how his
father's eyes would brighten up whenever he scrambled up into their bed in the
early morning. His older sister and he were spoiled rotten by their parents.
His younger brothers and sisters looked up to him like a god. He would forever
be the perfect big brother. He would never see them grow up. He wondered if his
favorite nephew, the one who could say an entire mass in Latin at the age of
three, would be a priest. 'Introibo ad altare Dei.' He could remember hearing
his tiny voice capture the whole family's attention. That boy was his only
competition for his mother's affection and he did not mind losing to him.
He thought of his numerous cousins and friends and all the mischief they were
guilty of. His mind wandered off to all his girlfriends. The thought of Mutya,
the girl with the white armpit, the Mary-Go-Round, brought a smile to his face.
That episode involving the loss of his virginity was a classic comedy of
errors. The dark shadow of death looming over him did not prevent him from
remembering how funny it was. How wonderful it was! And he thought of Juicy. Of
course, Juicy and Mount Everest.
Picturing Lillian and his daughter in his mind brought physical pain to him.
His chest hurt just thinking of them. "My poor daughter. She'll never know me.
I hope Lillian will find someone who can take care of them. I want them to be
happy even when I am gone."
He was a not a religious man, unlike the rest of his family. Somehow he did not
feel like he was guilty of anything that would condemn him to hell for all
eternity. "I lived my life the only way I knew how. God knows I am not perfect.
Please God, forgive me for my imperfections." He was privileged to know when
the final moment would come and was thankful for it. Praying the Act of
Contrition came easy to him.
He heard footsteps approaching their cell. Everyone knew Watanabe.s measured
rhythmic gait and Captain Hirai's rodent shuffle.
"Lieutenant, it's time to go." Watanabe tried to be as indifferent as he could
be. He, too, had a lot of soul searching the last twenty four hours. He studied
all his options. He had no choice. He had to push through with the execution.
If he changed his mind the morale of his soldiers would go down worse than what
it already was. He had disobeyed direct orders from Tokyo by not exterminating
the other Filipino prisoners. He planned to explain to general headquarters
that eliminating the head of the local resistance was a better maneuver.
Killing so many prisoners might provoke a violent reaction from the
townspeople. They could not afford to face another attack on their garrison.
The first one almost succeeded. He knew his superiors would probably not accept
this explanation but it was true and he was willing to accept the consequences
for his decisions.
Disobeying an order was committing professional suicide. "What would my father
do if he were in my position?" Still he knew he had to do what was right
because doing so distinguished him from lower animals and savages. "I am not
just a soldier. I am a samurai. I am more than a samurai. I am a man." Indeed,
Watanabe was an honorable man and he was willing to suffer to preserve that
honor.
Lieutenant Adolfo C. Sanchez was fully dressed and standing tall. Sergeant Ohno
opened the door and stepped into the cell.
"Turn around!" he brusquely ordered Popong.
Popong stood his ground and continued to face the Japanese soldiers. "What the
hell. I'm going to die anyway. What more can this jerk do to me?"
Sergeant Ohno's eyeballs were bulging and dangerously close to popping out of
his eyesockets. He was starting to have a tic, an involuntary spasm of the
muscle of his left eye and mouth because Popong refused to follow his orders.
He raised his trembling hand and was about to hit Popong on the side of the
head when Captain Hirai commanded, "Sergeant, you will address the lieutenant
according to his rank. Do not dishonor us by this behavior!!" He said it in
Japanese. Popong had already closed his eyes expecting the blow. He thought the
harsh tone of Captain Hirai was an invective directed at him.
Captain Watanabe was taken by surprise. He was not expecting this from Captain
Hirai who took a sidelong glance at him. Very imperceptibly, he gave a bow-nod
to Captain Hirai, who did not acknowledge it, but one could tell he was pleased
that Watanabe seemed to approve of what he said. "Finally, the idiot is
beginning to learn something." Watanabe mused.
"Yes, Sir." Sergeant Ohno answered like a programmed robot. "Lieutenant, turn
around so I may tie your hands behind your back."
Popong did not understand what was happening. "Now that's better." he thought.
Ohno was red faced and was on the verge of tears. Popong turned around slowly
and extended both hands backwards. Ohno tied his wrists together first, then
did the same thing with the elbows.
"Captain Watanabe, do what you have to do. Take the prisoner and ten regular
soldiers with you. I expect you to be back by sundown." Hirai was facing
Captain Watanabe who again faintly bowed.
"Hai, Captain. Sergeant?" Watanabe stared at Ohno who performed a quick deep
bow and almost ran out of the room having been ordered to get ten soldiers.
"Sir, may I have the company bugler with me?"
Captain Hirai nodded but he was thinking, "What ever for?"
October 13 was a Friday. It was cold and drizzly at three twenty five in the
afternoon. The sun had not come out the whole day and the skies were covered
with threatening dark clouds. Nonoy Trillo with brother Moren and cousin Leonor
were sitting in the Buenviaje veranda under the shade. Nonoy was nursing a cold
and was sneezing now and then while Leonor was smoking a cigarette. Eight year
old Moren was waiting for Leonor to give him the cigarette butt to smoke.
Leonor was about to give him the cigarette when his eyes suddenly went wide.
Moren followed his gaze and saw Watanabe marching out of the garrison alongside
two columns of soldiers. The company bugler was behind Watanabe. There were no
other sounds except for lonely distant barking of the dogs and the rhythmic
cadence of the soldiers. boots on the muddy road. Between the two columns of
soldiers marched Popong in unison with the rest. Popong saw Moren and winked at
him but continued to march until they were out of sight as they turned around
the corner of Juan Luna Street. The thick green leaves of an old "lambog" tree
hid them from view.
Half way to San Vicente, Watanabe marched the group toward the river and chose
the most elevated spot. There was a clearing just over the edge of the river, a
few coconut trees providing little cover from the incessant drizzle.
Popong's senses were the sharpest they had ever been. He could hear the cooing
of 'alimokons', small wild birds, from far away and felt the shower gently
landing on his face as he looked up the sky which was even now getting darker.
He could smell the smoldering ember of barely burning vegetation from someone's
"kaingin." He felt the abaca rope cutting through the skin of his wrists. He
faced one of the soldiers, "Remove them." he said as he turned around and
extend his hands and arms. The soldier looked at Watanabe who nodded yes.
Popong rubbed his wrists then faced Watanabe. "Any other time, we could be
friends."
"We are." Watanabe answered gently.
"Yes, we are. But you must do what you must."
Watanabe pointed to a spot and told Popong,
"There."
Popong walked to the spot and got on his knees, facing east and bowed his head
in submission. Watanabe stood three feet to his left, spread his legs,
unsheathed his sword, held the handle with two hands, raised it up and
backwards then brought it down thirty degrees between the second and third
cervical vertebrae. The razor sharp 'katana' went through the neck cleanly and
completely, the severed head falling less than a foot away from the body.
Watanabe wiped his ancestors. sword with his handkerchief which he carefully
refolded and inserted back into his breast pocket as if the cloth was a holy
object and returned the sword to its scabbard. He turned briskly to the
soldiers who were all standing at attention.
"We are all honored to have witnessed the death of this man." He turned around
again to face the body and bowed deeply from the waist and all the other
soldiers did the same.
And the bugler choked as he played the mournful triple notes of the universal
taps.
And the rain began to fall.
The End
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Epilogue
