Memories of World War II

With the barbaric attacks on the Pentagon, the twin towers of the World Trade Center in New York and another one in Somerset, Pennsylvania last Tuesday, most people couldn’t help but recall the bombing of Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7,1941 (Dec. 8 – Manila time). Of course – as Philippine STAR publisher Max Soliven said in his column the other day – the Pearl Harbor bombing "was just a Japanese tea ceremony" by comparison. But this is war – so says US Secretary of State Colin Powell.

Now, I don’t mean to put the public mood into further depression, but I guess this is a good time to remember the horrors of the last World War so that we may all pray and ask the good Lord to take over and prevent the situation from getting any worse in the coming days.

For this World War II recollection, I had to ask the help of ’50s matinee idol Armando Goyena (Jose Revilla, Jr. in real life), father of the famous Revilla sisters and now grandfather to Bianca Araneta and Bernard Palanca.

Armando Goyena was a second year Commerce student at De La Salle College when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. The day before, he turned 19 and had a simple birthday dinner with his family.

Since it was the feast of the Immaculate Conception and there were no classes in Catholic schools, Goyena stayed an extra hour in bed and was still dead to the world while everyone else in the city was already in a state of panic.

Although he was shocked by the news of the Pearl Harbor bombing, he was no longer surprised that the United States had come to war with Japan. In fact, prior to that, the Filipino citizenry was already being readied for an impending war. Drills were being conducted in schools and every home was encouraged to build its own air-raid shelter.

When the war finally came to the Philippines, the family of Armando Goyena decided to stay put in Manila (in a rented house in San Marcelino) – unlike most other city folks who evacuated to the provinces.

The war changed everyone’s life drastically. Before the Japanese occupation of the Philippines, Goyena’s father worked as manager for small loans at the Philippine National Bank. With all the offices shut down, his father had to engage in buy and sell – like everyone else in the city – in order to provide for his family.

For a while, Goyena, then an ROTC cadet, was undergoing military training and was being readied to be shipped to Bataan – until the historic peninsula fell down on April 9, 1942.

After the disbandment of his ROTC unit, Goyena decided to get into the buy and sell business himself in order to bring more food to the table. The family’s regular fare that time was dilis for breakfast, dilis for lunch and more dilis for dinner. When he won at a poker game one time, he treated himself and three of his friends to a whole fried chicken that he bought at the inflation rate of P100,000.

The scarcity of food was not the only problem faced by most Filipinos during the war. "You feared for your life every day," recalls Goyena, who got slapped – no, not once, but countless times – by Japanese sentries. "You had to bow to these Japanese soldiers from the waist or else you get slapped," he adds.

One evening, he went to visit some friends who lived in an accessoria nearby. To entertain themselves, they decided to dance to the music of Glenn Miller. Unfortunately, the one living next-door happened to be a Japanese civilian who didn’t seem too pleased with their merry-making. He suddenly barged in and began screaming at Goyena and his friends. The Japanese civilian also accused Goyena’s group that they were playing God Bless America – when the truth was, they were just dancing to the tune of In the Mood.

The girls made a hasty exit through the back of the house, but the boys remained in the accessoria. The Japanese civilian then released the boys one at a time, save for Goyena who was made to kneel in the middle of the street – with a .45 pistol pointed at him.

Luckily, the Japanese civilian heard a sound coming from his house and went in to check. Goyena took this as an opportunity to escape. "Boy, I never knew I could run that fast," remembers Goyena.

In 1945 – as the American troops approached the district of Ermita – the Japanese soldiers rounded up all the males in the neighborhood. Goyena and his father were among those herded to this building that was owned by the Mendozas somewhere in Herran.

With their hands tied behind their back, they were shoved into a toilet – all 50 of them (probably even more – by Goyena’s estimate). Suddenly, three hand grenades were thrown into the tiny window of that toilet and everyone tried to get out of that place.

Goyena’s father – a hefty man weighing close to 190 lbs. – fell on the floor and was never able to get up. Badly wounded, he died of gangrene three days later. Goyena himself has two grenade shrapnel imbedded in his body to this day – one on his shoulder and the other on his left upper arm.

Almost 60 years after the war, the awful memories of the Japanese occupation still haunt Armando Goyena. In fact, it took him years before he could stand to look at the face of a Japanese.

Goyena, however, insists that not all the Japanese soldiers then were bad. For a time during the war, in fact, he even befriended two Japanese military officers who also shared his passion for ping-pong.

When the two Japanese officers were sent to another post, they left with Goyena two chests that contained their personal effects – with instructions to please send them to their respective families in Japan after the war. "So, you see, these people also cared for their families. And they had to leave their loved ones behind because of that terrible war," points out Goyena.

Sadly, the chests never made their way back to Japan. These got burned – along with the memories attached to them – when the San Marcelino home of Goyena’s family was torched down at the height of the liberation of Manila by the Americans.