The world is in turmoil. Russia and Ukraine have been at war since 2014. While there is a ceasefire between Israel and Gaza, bombings still happen every so often. Tension remains between the Philippines and China over the West Philippine Sea. In America, furor has arisen, no thanks to Donald Trump and his US Immigration and Customs Enforcement. And now, he wants Greenland.
Around this period 81 years ago, the Pacific War was coming to an end. But the liberation of the Philippines didn’t come all that easy. About 100,000 people had to die first during the Battle for Manila. Again, it’s Battle FOR Manila and not “of” Manila.
When I started writing, I immediately realized the importance of documenting wartime experiences. Since I was exposed early in my career to veteran movie stars, I took it upon myself to interview them about their memories of the Japanese interlude — some of which I am sharing below as a reminder that war is evil, and that nobody wins in the end.
Anita Linda: Dodging bullets at La Loma Cemetery
Anita Linda, who died on 10 June 2020, is again in the news with the restoration of her most iconic film, Sisa. Directed by National Artist for Film Gerardo de Leon, Sisa gave Anita Linda the Maria Clara Award for best actress in 1951.
Anita’s film career was interrupted by the war. She married actor Fred Cortez (best known for starring in the original Ibong Adarna) during the Japanese occupation. Their first child died at infancy — at a time when the American troops were trying to subdue Japanese forces by entering the north of Manila.
La Loma Cemetery became a battlefield. Japanese soldiers removed caskets from tombs to make foxholes to protect them from the hail of bullets coming from the side of the American camp. There was still no fighting when Anita began walking to La Loma Cemetery to bury her dead child.
By the time she reached the burial grounds, the first gunshot had been fired. She got caught in the crossfire and had to dodge bullets that were raining from both ends. With baby in her arms, she had to crawl on the ground until she found cover. Only when the fighting stopped several hours later was she able to dig a grave to give her poor child a Christian burial.
Katy dela Cruz and her wild chickens
Today’s generation is still familiar with the song “Minsan ang Minahal ay Ako,” which was specifically composed for the 1988 musical Katy!
Katy! traces the life and career of the biggest star of Philippine vaudeville, Katy de la Cruz — also considered as the country’s queen of jazz.
The Second Word War did not stop her career in vaudeville, as stage shows became the primary source of entertainment during the Japanese Occupation.
But toward the end of the war, it was no longer safe for civilians to stay in Manila because the Japanese were becoming more ruthless by the day. Most families evacuated to provinces that were deemed to be more peaceful.
Katy sought refuge in her hometown in Bustos, Bulacan. She stayed in their old house — a two-story structure with the living quarters on the second floor. One day, she realized there was no more food in the house. A prayerful person, Katy doubled up on her prayers.
Before a framed picture of the Black Nazarene, she fervently asked for divine intervention. She had yet to finish her “Our Father” when she started hearing cackling sounds from the front yard. Looking out the window, she was surprised to see a pair of labuyo or wild chickens.
Katy hurried downstairs, hoping to catch at least one chicken. To her amazement, there was no need for a chase. The two wild chickens just stood there unmoving – like they were saying “get us.” Katy and her family had “nilagang manok” (boiled chicken), a feast!
Katy and her family survived the war. After liberation, she even became a film star and gave performances all over the world.
How the war altered the future of Amalia Fuentes
The paternal grandparents of Amalia Fuentes were Spaniards who migrated to the Philippines during the early days of the American Occupation. They went into the carriage business — the “carruaje” — and gained financial success in their adopted country.
By the time Amalia was born, her father, Alvaro Muhlach, was already a wealthy man. War broke out, however, when Amalia was a year old. The Muhlach family remained in the city, but eventually decided to move from province to province — away from the Japanese.
When news of liberation came, Alvaro decided it was time to bring his family to Spain and introduce his children to the Castilian way of life. But first, they had to return to Manila to work on their documents.
The Muhlachs had their own “carriton” (pushcart) where they put their belongings every time they moved. These ran on rubber tires that once served as wheels for automobiles abandoned during the war for lack of fuel.
On their way back to the city, Alvaro figured in a freak accident. One of the rubber tires of the family’s pushcart suddenly exploded and killed him instantly. Amalia was five when she lost her father. When she was nine, her mother, Concepcion, decided to marry again.
Amalia’s stepfather, Isagani Fuentes, was a pastor assigned to various areas in Mindanao. Their family was so poor that she opted to become a movie star to get out of their financial rut. If war hadn’t come to our shores, local entertainment would have been deprived of one of the most beautiful faces in Philippine cinema.
War alters fates and brings about changes. In the Philippines, the result was so bad, we still feel the ill effects to this day. Like what the epic film Oro, Plata, Mata said, war turned all of us into animals.