It has been a month since I wrote the article on Trudl Zipper and her husband Herbert. I had suggested that some Hollywood producer make a blockbuster on the life of this refugee from Nazi Europe, with Rachel Weisz in the lead role. Escaping Europe, Trudl found herself and her husband in Japanese-occupied Manila and their story was a fascinating one of survival.
I have not gotten any phone calls from Hollywood in the middle of the night … or any other time of day, for that matter, so maybe I should change the pitch. There are a million stories that could be told of old Manila before, during, and after the Second World War. Why tell these stories? Well, because they tell us much about ourselves and much about our city — our heritage and our history.
The rebuilding of both our personal and family lives, as well as that of the city, is another fascinating story that should at least get turned into a History Channel special. I have a number of sources to serve as inspiration. One is a thin pamphlet printed by the US Army just after the liberation. Entitled Picture Book of Manila 1945, it was meant as a souvenir for GIs to send home to their loved ones.
The book’s only text, aside from the captions, read: “When the Yanks finally freed Manila, they found a city of contrasts … a city which had adopted western ways but still retained an eastern flavor. They found air-conditioned theaters, and families bathing by the water hydrant. They found the latest models of US motor cars, and carts drawn by caribou (sic). They found Filipina lovelies who never dated without a chaperone. They found the erstwhile ‘Pearl of the Orient,’ physically battered, but with its people rejoicing. This book is a glance at the city today.”
The 32-page pamphlet was filled with black-and-white images of war-torn Manila. These were interspersed with cartoons of GI life in the city, since the war had not ended yet. Manila was one of the bases from where the assault on mainland Japan was being prepared.
The images in the pamphlet included those of landmarks like the Legislative building, Manila City Hall, and the Manila Cathedral. All were in ruins or pock-marked with holes, making them look like Swiss cheese. Many of the main civic structures were rebuilt in the next five years. The cathedral had to wait another 10 or so years to rise again. (Today it reportedly is closed due to structural defects … and not the fault of Carlos Celdran, or so he says.)
There is a picture of the Jones bridge, or what is left of it. The American engineers repaired the blown-up section with a Bailey bridge. The image of the northern end of the bridge still shows two of the four allegorical sculptures that anchored the bridge on both ends. The three surviving sculptures were taken down and distributed around the city — one eventually ended up at the Luneta and the other two now guard the entrance to the Court of Appeals.
Another interesting shot was of the business district of Binondo with its heart at Plaza Cervantes. It shows the plaza still with the Cervantes marker. This was to disappear in the ’60s when traffic demanded its removal (I do not know where it is today). The Insular Life building is shown to have survived almost completely intact. The same goes for the Hong Kong Shanghai Bank building, which is seen in at the far corner.
There is also a picture of the Bayview Hotel and the two other art deco apartment buildings, which lorded it over the corner at Dewey (now Roxas) Boulevard and TM Kalaw street. All three survived the liberation and are functional today. The Bayview, sadly, fell victim to changing architectural styles and now looks rather dated. It would look better if it recovered its original art deco exterior.
Many of the ruins shown were never rebuilt. The Oro Theater across from the Sta. Cruz church is all but an urban memory. The Great Eastern hotel on Rizal Avenue, a favorite place my grandfather would take my mom and her siblings to for special family lunches, also never saw the light of day again.
There were also traces of the extensive tranvia system in the images. What was left of the electric-powered tram network were the rails on the streets. These did not last long, however, as within a year or two they were removed and salvaged for steel.
The cartoons included in the brochure were the observations of a journeyman artist G. Brusstar (he would go on to illustrate for US magazines, including Life). He drew GIs as they interacted with the locals (mostly women and children) and with each other (queueing up for rations or trying out a carabao cart).
He also showed local kids who tried to sell the GI (short for government issue) Joes everything from soap to Japanese souvenirs. My father was one of them. He and his siblings went around “buying and selling” whatever they could to make ends meet for the family. He started with a stash of cigars he had hidden since the war started, then he parlayed these into other commodities as he and his brothers walked or hitched from one district of Manila to the next (and riding the first jeepneys, too).
Today we could publish a Picture Book of Metro Manila. Visitors here (to paraphrase the 1945 book) would find a metropolis of contrasts … a chaotic entity which had adopted western ways but still retained an eastern flavor. Visitors would find air-conditioned malls like in the west, but bigger; while families bathed beside broken water pipes and lived underneath bridges.
Visitors would find the latest models of US motor cars competing with 30-year-old buses, smoke-belching jeepneys, and padjaks drawn by brute man-power. They would find Filipina lovelies who never dated without a cellphone, or a booking by her pimp. They would find the erstwhile “Pearl of the Orient,” still physically battered, but this time by poverty, politics, and overpopulation. Yet they would find its people rejoicing … at least while watching inane lunchtime TV shows.
I do hope I get a call from at least the History Channel. If that fails I’ll change my pitch once more and tell the story of how General MacArthur was actually a vampire-chaser battling Japanese bloodsuckers and Filipino aswangs in the dark sewers of Manila, while during the day his troops fought on the streets of Manila. He was aided by a Fil-Chinese named Ric Lin, who would eventually move to Taiwan and then migrate to the US. Yes, you guessed it: that fellow was the grandfather of current NBA sensation Jeremy Lin! Anything to get to Hollywood!
* * *
Feedback is welcome. Please e-mail the writer at paulo.alcazaren@gmail.com.