Assemblywoman Elisa Ochoa, a member of the distinguished and powerful Rosales
clan of Butuan, was an effective negotiator. Unknown to her province mates she
had attempted to cajole the Japanese authorities in Manila into releasing all
of the Agusanons from Camp O.Donnell.
"Your victory is inevitable. So why don.t you just let my friends and relatives
go? Your plans for a Co-Prosperity Sphere will materialize in the Philippines
sooner if you would grant us this small gesture of benevolence. I promise you
my full cooperation."
And to add credibility to her promise, she feigned self serving motives to
convince the enemy.
"It will also guarantee my re-election later. We can work together now and in
the future.", she winked with her smile. She knew that the enemy was not
stupid. But she also knew that the Japanese were practical and she could tell
that her persistence was beginning to take effect.
Her efforts were not known to the Agusanons in Camp O'Donnell at that time.
Popong had gotten strong again and his desire for freedom was even stronger.
"Seiichi, I want to go home. I need to know how my mother and my brothers and
sisters are doing. Please help me."
"Adolfo, you are asking too much of me. It is still dangerous out there. You
are safer in this camp."
But Sgt. Adolfo C. Sanchez was once again no longer concerned about his own
safety. He could not get any news from home. He has lost contact with Emet and
Guilly. Meong was acting strangely. The conditions in the camp may have been
too much for him. Somehow Popong had to find a way to get out of the POW camp.
He had a plan. It was dangerous but it could possibly work. But he would have
to leave his cousin behind. He tried to explain his plans to Meong whose only
response was a sad, uncomprehending look in the eyes and a nod.
Every morning, Dr. Shimoura would authorize the collection and disposal of the
dead bodies of the Filipino and American soldiers. The cadavers would be placed
on a wooden sled drawn by a carabao and taken to a dump site about two
kilometers from the camp and thrown into a pit which would then be covered with
dirt by four other prisoners assigned to the detail. At first the Japanese
would shoot each cadaver on the head before being taken out. After about a
week, the officers decided it was too expensive using bullets, so they just
bayoneted the bodies in the chest or the abdomen. To the Japanese enlisted men,
this was not the best assignment. The task was too gruesome even for the most
hardy ones. Many would feign illnesses to avoid this rotation. In the end, they
just relied on the doctor's diagnosis that the prisoner was indeed certifiably
dead.
Popong had one corpse on top of him and another to his left. To his right was
a side of the cart with a vertical brace to hold the bodies in. There was an
opening. He was stacked face down on the second layer from the top, on the
back of another body. Several times he would almost gag because, with every
bump of the sled, he would feel some kind of foul smelling brownish cold liquid
oozing from the nose of the dead man on top of him, dripping down the back of
his neck. "Dios mio, dios mio !" he prayed silently. His guardian angel had
not abandoned him. At that point when he thought he could no longer take it,
the cart made a turn around a heavy "talahib" bush. With all his might, he
pushed against the body to his left, rolled over the side of the cart deep into
the bush. The pair of Japanese soldiers watching the rear had put a good
distance between themselves and the cart as they could not stand the smell.
They never saw what had just transpired. Popong tried not to make a sound while
vomiting. He kept still for so long that he fell asleep and woke up only after
sun down.
The Big Dipper showed him to the east. He found his bearing and located a
shallow river. He took his clothes off and tried to wash away the smell of
death and stayed in the water for almost two hours. He decided to travel only
at night. Although the soles of his feet were already thickened, not having
worn shoes since his capture, he still could not stand the hot roads with the
blistering sun that first week of May.
He finally reached a small farm. Tatang Boboy lived far enough away from town
so nobody bothered him, not the Japanese, the guerillas, or the bandits. He and
his barren wife have lived in that little farm since he and his wife got
married forty years before. Popong devoured the sweet potatoes and "guinamos."
Young coconut water never tasted so sweet. He was able to shave and the
farmer's wife cut his hair.
"This war is not going to last forever. You are welcome here. Stay with us and
be safe. You can earn your keep. Help me with the farm." Boboy was lonely, too.
"Tatang, you know I have to go. I don't know what has happened to my family.
I don't even know how to get home, but I will."
In five days, he was off again. He got to Manila on May 6. But when he entered
the city, he was wondering why the streets were empty. The city was quiet
except in the restaurants and hotels where the Japanese officers and their
Filipina consorts were celebrating.
Corregidor had fallen! The Japanese Imperial Army won. The USAFFE had
surrendered. MacArthur had run off to Australia, tail between his legs. "I bet
he took Dimples with him , the coward !", Popong observed sourly. Dimples was
Gen Mac's Filipina concubine. "Dont come back, you son-of-a-bitch!" he yelled
out, feeling betrayed. There were tears in his eyes as he sat on the pavement
at the corner of P. Noval and Dapitan Roads.
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