My OperaFred Quimbo's Blog
Thursday, April 20, 2006 9:20:07 PM
MY OWN WAR MEMOIRS & OTHER TALES – by Nita D. Quimbo
The war broke out in December of ’41. We first felt it when coming home from a trip with Papa and the family we were stopped by the Tabunok gasoline station and subjected to heavy inspection because the Japanese had dropped bombs on the Shell gasoline storage tanks in Mactan. Later, the decision was reached to evacuate families from the cities to safer areas in the province. As grade school kids, this was a cause for jubilation. Consider, no classes and off to a trip to the far north, Daanbantayan, to be precise. We laughed seeing people bring lots of seemingly unnecessary things. We thought the war would last only a few months, and that we were in a sort of an excursion trip.
Life in the province was very different from city life. At first, we stayed in an old house by the main road, but things changed. The Japanese wanted Papa to report for government service but the guerilla people advised him that staying in the middle would put him in danger from either side. So he decided to join the guerilla movement. Meanwhile, we moved to an old house in the outskirts from the provincial road to avoid the Japanese. This hut was just in front of an old, old tree (gakit) which was rumored to have supernatural beings. We had plenty of chickens which were prone to attack by snakes or monitor lizards in the night. So we kept torches ready to light up when lizards or snakes attacked. One evening,our household help who slept by the door, suddenly got up shouting something. We thought there was a snake attack but also we were afraid she was sleep-walking. Suddenly she turned back grumbling. A man had waited as she got up and motioned her to follow.He disappeared in front of the big tree. She said this was because we were very noisy. It seems the fellow was an “engkanto”, and he would appear to her in her dreams,. Saying his name his name was “Manolo” and that he knew all of us. This bothered us, so we finally moved to a small hut owned by somebody reputed to be a witch.
In Bagay, Daanbantayan, Tellie and myself were into taking care of our goat, the milk of which was fed to Baby Sam; and planting vegetables. Later, when the Japanese resorted to juez de cochillo , we had to sneak in to get some of our produce.
The Japanese had special visitors – German officers, it seems, who were killed by the guerilla forces. This so angered the Japanese they went into this juez de cochillo, killing innocent civilians they encountered, sowing fear in the people. When this intensified, Bagay was a “no-man’s land”. Nene had to resort to cooking our food late at night to avoid having the smoke noticed by the Japanese. And also, she would roast some whole grains of corn to keep Baby Sam entertained during the day. At one point, our neighbors had decided to move to the mountain area because the Japanese were killing people along the coastal side. But we could not join them because Sam was running a fever. We huddled together in the dark, abandoned by our friends. Ma, Sam’s mother, told us that whoever came out of this alive would tell Papa our story. That was the darkest point in our life.
Later, Papa sent our some “volunteer guards” (voluntario) to pick us up. It was a scary trip via boat, with us staying near the shore when the Japanese, in their boats had been trying to catch people on boats, and later put to sea when the Japanese were by the shore looking out for people in the boats they could shoot at. At that time, Sam was running a faver when the roasted corn grain he placed into his nostril expanded and could no longere be extracted – not until we were in the guerilla HQ where there was a doctor. When we landed in Ga-iran, Bogo, we had to walk a long distance on mountain trail to the guerilla headquarters, each of us carrying a heavy pack, elementary school kids that we were. From there, we moved to Asturias, within another HQ area until the Americans came.
At the area reserved for the families of officers, life was uneventful and we were amply provided with food. Occasional excitement was when there was a “dog fight” or talk of Japanese solders retreating as the Americans were fast approaching. Then the Americans came – truckloads of soldiers as the civilians cheered. We were showered with chocolates, milk and lots of other goods. We, especially were favored since were among the few who could speak English.
Finally, we returned to Cebu City on a cargo truck as we viewed the desolation and destruction.that was Cebu City. From then on, our house was filled with relatives from Daanbantayan who came toseek work with the Ameerican forces. This again resulted in our having a steady supply of canned items,-- luncheon meat, powdered milk and powdered eggs.
The post-war period brought us two additional members of the family, Claire and Clinton. Unfortunately, after Clinton’s birth, Ma suffered a relapse or “bughat”, so that with Clinton only barely 13 days old, she died. It was a pity for a baby, so small and with no conveniences as yet. With no thermos jugs, Nene would heat water in a can tied just above a kerosene lamp. So we had a steady supply of safe hot water in the night but it was messy with soot gathered thick on the outside bottom of the can. Then we tried having him breastfed by a neighbor who just had a baby. I would rush out to the T. Padilla Market before going to school to buy beef bones so that the lady could have rich soup to feed the baby. But this did not work – her baby grow stout and robust but Clinton remained unnourished. At one point he became very ill with diarrhea – he was just skin and bones. When you touched his belly, you could feel the mat underneath. So we resorted to using a woolen blanked for him to lie –he became so attached to his woolen blanket which served as his security blanket. The passing of Ma really must have caused his mother to be heartbroken for leaving behind such a baby. One siesta time, Nene lay on the old matrimonial bed beside all the kids. I slept bside the window. When I woke up, I saw very clearly Ma looking sadly beyond to the children on the bed. It so scared me I tightly closed my eyelids until all awakened. I thought I was the only one who saw her but Claire says she saw her too.
Later, Papa remarried and we moved to a bigger house near the Capitol Building. While there, nothing bothered us except the dwarves (duwendes), who used to throw stones straight from the ceiling and which stones friends collected to bring them luck,
The war broke out in December of ’41. We first felt it when coming home from a trip with Papa and the family we were stopped by the Tabunok gasoline station and subjected to heavy inspection because the Japanese had dropped bombs on the Shell gasoline storage tanks in Mactan. Later, the decision was reached to evacuate families from the cities to safer areas in the province. As grade school kids, this was a cause for jubilation. Consider, no classes and off to a trip to the far north, Daanbantayan, to be precise. We laughed seeing people bring lots of seemingly unnecessary things. We thought the war would last only a few months, and that we were in a sort of an excursion trip.
Life in the province was very different from city life. At first, we stayed in an old house by the main road, but things changed. The Japanese wanted Papa to report for government service but the guerilla people advised him that staying in the middle would put him in danger from either side. So he decided to join the guerilla movement. Meanwhile, we moved to an old house in the outskirts from the provincial road to avoid the Japanese. This hut was just in front of an old, old tree (gakit) which was rumored to have supernatural beings. We had plenty of chickens which were prone to attack by snakes or monitor lizards in the night. So we kept torches ready to light up when lizards or snakes attacked. One evening,our household help who slept by the door, suddenly got up shouting something. We thought there was a snake attack but also we were afraid she was sleep-walking. Suddenly she turned back grumbling. A man had waited as she got up and motioned her to follow.He disappeared in front of the big tree. She said this was because we were very noisy. It seems the fellow was an “engkanto”, and he would appear to her in her dreams,. Saying his name his name was “Manolo” and that he knew all of us. This bothered us, so we finally moved to a small hut owned by somebody reputed to be a witch.
In Bagay, Daanbantayan, Tellie and myself were into taking care of our goat, the milk of which was fed to Baby Sam; and planting vegetables. Later, when the Japanese resorted to juez de cochillo , we had to sneak in to get some of our produce.
The Japanese had special visitors – German officers, it seems, who were killed by the guerilla forces. This so angered the Japanese they went into this juez de cochillo, killing innocent civilians they encountered, sowing fear in the people. When this intensified, Bagay was a “no-man’s land”. Nene had to resort to cooking our food late at night to avoid having the smoke noticed by the Japanese. And also, she would roast some whole grains of corn to keep Baby Sam entertained during the day. At one point, our neighbors had decided to move to the mountain area because the Japanese were killing people along the coastal side. But we could not join them because Sam was running a fever. We huddled together in the dark, abandoned by our friends. Ma, Sam’s mother, told us that whoever came out of this alive would tell Papa our story. That was the darkest point in our life.
Later, Papa sent our some “volunteer guards” (voluntario) to pick us up. It was a scary trip via boat, with us staying near the shore when the Japanese, in their boats had been trying to catch people on boats, and later put to sea when the Japanese were by the shore looking out for people in the boats they could shoot at. At that time, Sam was running a faver when the roasted corn grain he placed into his nostril expanded and could no longere be extracted – not until we were in the guerilla HQ where there was a doctor. When we landed in Ga-iran, Bogo, we had to walk a long distance on mountain trail to the guerilla headquarters, each of us carrying a heavy pack, elementary school kids that we were. From there, we moved to Asturias, within another HQ area until the Americans came.
At the area reserved for the families of officers, life was uneventful and we were amply provided with food. Occasional excitement was when there was a “dog fight” or talk of Japanese solders retreating as the Americans were fast approaching. Then the Americans came – truckloads of soldiers as the civilians cheered. We were showered with chocolates, milk and lots of other goods. We, especially were favored since were among the few who could speak English.
Finally, we returned to Cebu City on a cargo truck as we viewed the desolation and destruction.that was Cebu City. From then on, our house was filled with relatives from Daanbantayan who came toseek work with the Ameerican forces. This again resulted in our having a steady supply of canned items,-- luncheon meat, powdered milk and powdered eggs.
The post-war period brought us two additional members of the family, Claire and Clinton. Unfortunately, after Clinton’s birth, Ma suffered a relapse or “bughat”, so that with Clinton only barely 13 days old, she died. It was a pity for a baby, so small and with no conveniences as yet. With no thermos jugs, Nene would heat water in a can tied just above a kerosene lamp. So we had a steady supply of safe hot water in the night but it was messy with soot gathered thick on the outside bottom of the can. Then we tried having him breastfed by a neighbor who just had a baby. I would rush out to the T. Padilla Market before going to school to buy beef bones so that the lady could have rich soup to feed the baby. But this did not work – her baby grow stout and robust but Clinton remained unnourished. At one point he became very ill with diarrhea – he was just skin and bones. When you touched his belly, you could feel the mat underneath. So we resorted to using a woolen blanked for him to lie –he became so attached to his woolen blanket which served as his security blanket. The passing of Ma really must have caused his mother to be heartbroken for leaving behind such a baby. One siesta time, Nene lay on the old matrimonial bed beside all the kids. I slept bside the window. When I woke up, I saw very clearly Ma looking sadly beyond to the children on the bed. It so scared me I tightly closed my eyelids until all awakened. I thought I was the only one who saw her but Claire says she saw her too.
Later, Papa remarried and we moved to a bigger house near the Capitol Building. While there, nothing bothered us except the dwarves (duwendes), who used to throw stones straight from the ceiling and which stones friends collected to bring them luck,
