No Frills Officer and Gentlemen:Two heroes of the Republic, Lt. Kenneth Bulong of PMA Class 2000 and my uncle, Brig. Gen. Reynaldo Arce Mendoza (ret.) of PMA Class 1940, were buried last Saturday afternoon. The younger ‘ayer, killed in an encounter with the Abu Sayyaf early this month, was appropriately interred at the Libingan ng mga Bayani. Uncle Rey, though entitled to be buried at the same hallowed ground, chose Himlayang Pilipino as his resting place, beside his son Ramon, who died so many years ahead of the father. Gen. Cullao, a number of colonels and light colonels plus the 1st Escort Company of the Philippine Army were at hand to accord him the appropriate military honors.
Some sixty years may separate both ‘ayers. But as the Republic celebrates its 103rd Independence Day today, it is but fitting to pay tribute to both.
Gen. Mendoza, like my father, belonged to the so-called "old school," the cohort of gentlemen whose word is a sacred oath and for whom public service is indeed public service. He was the first among my second fathers. The second son of peasants who migrated to Aparri, Cagayan from the land-hungry Ilocos in the early 20th century, he was part of the PMA class that had to be graduated hastily in 1940 as the winds of wars blew strong from Northeast Asia downwards. He saw action as a regular infantry officer immediately after Pearl Harbor in Northern Luzon and Bataan and joined the irregulars after Gen. Wainwright surrendered the USAFFE forces to the Japanese. None of this information came from him; he was as tight-lipped as can be. What I can remember is a story my father told me. In early 1942, after the Japanese bombed Aparri and landed there afterwards, they stromed into my grandfather's house in Macanaya, Aparri looking for Uncle Rey. My father was the one who they chanced upon; the Japanese apparently had superior intelligence since they knew that Uncle Rey was a military officer. My father then tells me that should not be a surprise because among the Japanese officers were some of the town's halo-halo vendors, umbrella makers, shoemakers—who settled there in the late thirties enduring all the derision directed by Americanized Filipinos against "bow-legged and chinky-eyed yellow men", only to don the uniforms of the Japanese Imperial Army (complete with the obligatory samurai) as their comrades-in-arms started arriving en masse on our shores.
I am not sure if he saw action during the Hukbalahap campaigns. What I am quite sure of was that he joined the Philippine Expeditionary Force to Korea (PEFTOK) as a battalion-level officer. In fact, a few of his PEFTOK buddies, old men all, were at his burial. An examination of the plaques and memorabilia in his house indicate further accomplishments: chief of the Intelligence Service of the Armed Forces of the Philippines (ISAFP) in 1960, 4th president of the National Defense College of the Philippines (NDCP), and his final post before mandatory retirement, superintendent of his beloved alma, the Philippine Military Academy (PMA) in 1967. As PMA superintendent, he saw Victor Corpuz, now ISAFP chief, graduate. Since his term was not extended, he fortunately did not see the same Vic Corpuz lead the famous raid on the Academy in 1971 before he joined the New People's Army (NPA).
Gentlemen of the old school will never lick ass to get ahead with their careers. Uncle Rey saw himself bypassed in promotions by many who were junior to him. Though an Ilocano, he never succumbed to the blandishments of a certain Ferdinand Marcos who was at the time Ilocanizing the AFP, promoting or extending the terms of many Ilocano officers, including star officers, in preparation for the grand experiment proclaimed on 21 September 1972.
I was captured (no warrant of arrest was served) by Marcos' military forces in September 1973. Among my torturers were elements of the 5th Constabulary Security Unit headed by a Col. Aure. After days of heavy torture, I was ushered into his office and Col. Aure half-asked and half-declared: Pamangkin ka ni Gen. Rey Mendoza? He went on to say that he served under Uncle Rey at the ISAFP; that I could not deny that I was Uncle Rey's nephew since there was a striking resemblance, and so on. What I can definitely remember was that my torture stopped after that conversation. I was relegated to cleaning toilets at the 5th CSU. To this day, I don't know why: did the torture stop because Uncle Rey talked to Col. Aure? Or did Col. Aure order his men to stop the torture upon learning who I was? Was it in deference to Uncle Rey, a payment for some utang ng loob?
Over the years as I built my family and my professional life, we would frequently visit Uncle Rey, Tita Lily and their growing extended family at their Kamias home. He would usually ask my opinion about the country's economy and political situation. Then he would shake his head in silence. He will then inquire about my father, Rosalie, and the children. After being assured that everybody was OK, he will lapse into silence. In all of these occasions, I will usually find him in the garden weeding and watering the plants or fixing the swing for his grandchildren. The last time I sought his counsel was when I became NDCP vice president in 1998. In the face of the difficulties we faced then (I was part of small team brought in by Dr. Clarita Carlos, NDCP's first female and civilian president), he simply told me that I should persevere and do my best.
At his burial, I learned that Uncle Rey also wrote the lyrics of the PMA song, with his friend composing its music. I ask my readers to pay tribute to Gen. Mendoza and Lt. Bulong by humming these lines:
At every end of day
We hope and fervent pray
The honor you instill
Doth guide our will;
May thy sons ever be Men of
Integrity,
Courage and Loyalty
PMA, Oh, Hail to Thee!
When bells for us are rung
And our last taps is sung,
Let generations see
Our country free;
Oh! Lead to righteous way
Those solid ranks of Gray,
Thine virtues to display
‘Cademy, Oh! Hail to Thee!
On behalf of the Mendoza family, may I also thank all those who have comforted us and shared our grief. To the Bulong family, as well as the families of the slain Dos Palmas employees, Mr. Bayona and Mr. Dacquer, and all others slain by the Abu Sayyaf at Lamitan, Basilan, please accept our condolences.
