Saving Sgt. Miller: A friendship blooms amid a raging war
July 1, 2001 | 12:00am
(To celebrate the forthcoming Fil-American Friendship Day, Dero writes about the story of Alice and Richard, a Fil-American friendship.)
On May 7 last year, I wrote about a small but breathtaking painting by the Filipino master Fernando Amorsolo – a stunning portrait of an angelic, blue-eyed, young man. Frozen in the masterful brushstrokes and time-mellowed pigments is a soft smile that seemed to grow both in intensity and gentleness, the longer you looked at the painting. Most people who have seen it swear that the young man seems to gaze right back into the very depths of the viewer’s soul.
Intrigued by the identity of the man in the painting, I wrote a follow-up article, "Who is Amorsolo’s Blue-eyed Young Man?" Letters and e-mails with interesting clues and theories came in from readers. Of course, the bulk of the mail came from adolescent girls gushing over the gorgeous youth in the painting.
Someone wrote that the young man was a guest at the home of an old, prominent family in the early ’50s, and that a lady from that family had the portrait commissioned. The writer claimed that the painting was the only possession the family kept from the public and that it was a secret they did not want to talk about. Her grandmother saw the portrait in a house in Batangas and later, in Vigan. The last clue they had was that it was hidden in an old circular Spanish cemetery in Nagcarlan, Laguna in the early ’80s.
As the plot thickened, a curious e-mail arrived from two young students, Brandon Vargas from De La Salle, and his cousin, GJ Lao, from the University of California in Berkeley. They inquired whether a reward was waiting for whoever solved the identity of Amorsolo’s mysterious young man. I e-mailed back to say that there was no real reward, only a fast-food chicken dinner. They opted to meet me for coffee at Starbucks and in front of their eager friends, Samantha Jison, Icka Reyes and Charles Lizares, related this most engaging story.
While attending a big family reunion in Negros, Brandon and GJ were pulled aside by their grandmother, Doña Alice Azcona Cordova, to show them a clipping of my article about Amorsolo’s blue-eyed young man. Then she took out an old box and opened it to reveal a small, autograph book elegantly bound in deep-emerald leather embossed in gold. Mama Alice carefully parted its pages to show an old newspaper clipping and pointed out the picture of a young American in military uniform.
"The man in the portrait is probably Sgt. Miller," she declared. "Don’t they just look alike?"
Brandon and GJ’s interest was fueled. The newspaper clipping read:
"Missing in action are Staff Sgt. Richard L. Miller, Staff Sgt. Eddie R. Longer and Staff Sgt. John A. Kramer... Sgt. Miller has been reported missing in action over Los (sic) Negros Island since November 1, according to information received by his mother, Mrs. John L. Miller, 2040 North Boulevard. The sergeant’s father, Maj. J. L. Miller, has served overseas for the past three years and at present is stationed in New Guinea. They met for a few hours on October 23 in the Netherlands East Indies. Word that his son has been reported missing was cabled to Major Miller while he was on an inspection tour. Young Miller, radio gunner on a B-24, graduated from Deer Park, and was in his first year at the University of Texas when he entered the air forces in November 1942. He has been overseas for eight months."
Looking through the mists of time, Mama Alice slowly recounted how a twist of fate brought Staff Sgt. Richard L. Miller into Negros Island on that momentous first day of November 1944.
The Azconas lived in Hacienda Rosalia, a huge sugar plantation in Negros Occidental, which was named after Alice’s grandmother. Their house was a grand colonnaded structure with high ceilings, long porches, and huge windows fronting the beautiful, sunny beach of Manapla. Lining the property were graceful coconut trees that disappeared into the undulating hills densely planted with rows upon rows of sugar cane. Hacienda Rosalia was one of the most productive and well-equipped sugar plantations in Negros at that time.
It was November 1944, almost three years after the treacherous bombing of Pearl Harbor, and the Pacific War was raging. The Japanese Imperial Army battled the American Forces for supremacy over the Philippine Islands. There was a fierce dogfight over Hacienda Rosalia that first day of November. The whole household was terrified at the menacing sounds of airplanes and machineguns, and was jolted by the splash of a fighter plane as it crashed into the sea a few meters from the beach.
Two American soldiers had parachuted out of the plane. One was gunned to death by the Japanese; the other was wounded, landing on the sugar cane fields. The soldier was rescued by the hacienda workers and was brought to the big house. Alice’s mother ordered him hidden in the nearby hills where he will be safe from the Japanese soldiers who patrolled the area. She also feared for her family’s life in case the Japanese found out they were harboring an American.
The young man was nursed back to health by the hacienda workers and other members of the Azcona household. He identified himself as Staff Sgt. Richard L. Miller from Houston, Texas. Alice, then young, lovely and single, became a friend. She brought him food and baked muffins. Several days later some Americans passed by the hacienda and retrieved him.
A year later, Alice sent a line to Richard to find out how he was. As Richard was readjusting to life back in the States, his mom wrote this letter on November 3, 1945 from Houston:
"...First, I want to thank you for being so good to Richard. You will never know how much I appreciate your kindness to him. He never arrived in the States until March 13th as he had to wait at "Biak" several weeks for a boat. He was with me a month, then he had to go to Santa Monica, California. Was there two months then came back and got his discharge June 19th, went to work July 2nd for Thibodeaux Steamship Co. He meets ships and is very busy as he has to work so much at night. But he likes his work very much and is feeling and looking fine. He now weighs 146 lbs. He was very thin when he arrived.
"I am so happy to have him home as I have been so very lonely, as my husband has been in Australia nearly four years. But we expect him home next month so we are looking forward to a happy Christmas...
"Please thank everyone that was so good to Richard, and do hope you and your family have a lovely Christmas. Thank you again for your kindness. Best regards.
Sincerely, Mrs. Miller"
As we sat over coffee vicariously enjoying the beautiful story of Mama Alice, GJ noticed that something was amiss. He figured out that if Richard were about 22 years old when he was in Negros in 1944, then he would have been 10 years old in1932 when the portrait was painted. Richard L. Miller could not have been the blue-eyed young man painted by Fernando Amorsolo!
We were all slightly disappointed but I told them how ecstatic I felt anyway. I found it extremely amazing how one story can lead to another and afford us the pleasure of unfolding its beauty.
Mama Alice’s little emerald autograph book was so interesting that I asked Brandon if I could keep it for a while as I pieced together the story. I promised to guard it with my life and he agreed.
As you open the autograph book, the air around it gets permeated with a mysterious scent – some sort of hazy mixture of old perfume, pressed flowers, and the enigmatic smell of time. The years have painted their patina on its brittle pages and each leaf is laden with precious memories of fun, halcyon days gone by. On each page are inscribed the greetings and signature of an American GI or friends Mama Alice met. Poring through the leaves, you can almost hear the laughter on the beach, the ’40s big band music, and the lapping of the waves on the shore.
At that time, Hacienda Rosalia was brimming with prosperity and excitement. American officers and enlisted men would spend a day of rest and recreation at the beach, and most often would be invited to the Azcona mansion for a sumptuous lunch or dinner, dance and games. Alice was young, stunning, and vibrant, and she met them all. She would ask the GI’s to write little dedications on her autograph book and paste a small photo of each one so that she would remember their names and faces.
Over 70 signatures written between 1944 and 1947 are found in the little book, all thanking and wishing Alice the best. Here are some of the dedications:
"The Philippines will always be remembered by me as the best of my overseas stay. Because of your charming hospitality, Occ. Negros will always be foremost in my memories." – Jerome Paulson, Capt., M.C., Sun Prairie, Wisconsin.
"As soon as I arrived at your home on 26 January, I said it was "Paradise Regained." And I am really convinced this was the best weekend since I left the States. Your hospitality was wonderful, the food, swimming, and sailing were perfect. May you and your mother enjoy good health, happiness and prosperity. I will look forward to seeing you in the States. Most sincerely," – Louis L. Goldstein, Lt. U.S.M.C., Prince Frederick, Maryland, 40 miles from Washington, D.C.
"For all the rest of my life, my visits here will be remembered as some of my happiest hours. May your luck always be good." – Julian P. Hoffmann, 2nd Lt. MAC.
"To the people of the P.I., May we have the best of wishes after this conflict is all over. Forever a friend" – Darral S. Bliss, 274 2nd St. Idaho Falls, Idaho.
"To the most beautiful beach home since I left Calif., ‘Home Sweet Home’." – Danny Rense, 502 No. Bedford Dr., Beverly Hills, Calif.
"Best wishes and success to our girl of Negros. I’ve really enjoyed my stay here." – Everett H. Buness, 715 So. 58th St., Tacoma, Wash.
Some of the dedications were charming and funny, so reminiscent of the 1940s:
"Dear Alice, May your future be as bright as your eyes are tonight.
Sincerely" – Frank di Cenzo, Jr., 2nd Lt. Inf., 924 Island Ave., McKees Rocks, Pittsburgh, Pa.
"Whenever you see an air mattress, please think of me." – D. R. Fathern.
"When your old cat runs up a tree, just pull her tail and think of me.
A friend forever" – S/Sgt. Bob Schofield
"Yours till Niagara Falls." – "Red" LaVancher, 205 Burnet Park Drive, Syracuse, New York
"Your dynamic personality is genuine. I am happy to know that I have spent many happy hours in your presence." – Frank Kathiewicz, 22 B Street, Buffalo, New York
"May you always sail on the Ship of Ambition and anchor in the Harbor of Success. Your best wisher and sincere acquaintance," – Tony Pacheco, Chama, New Mexico, P.O. Box 4
"To Alice, Here’s a toast to a grand person. I pray for a happy future for you and your grand little country. An acquaintance," – Sgt. Eddie P. Nixon, Rouge, Texas
Of course, one of the treasured dedications next to the "Missing In Action" newspaper clipping was the young Staff Sergeant’s: "Your people are very kind, I certainly appreciate the help you all have given me." – S/Sgt. Richard L. Miller.
Judging from the messages written by the American soldiers, Mama Alice must have really been quite a "swell" girl. ("Swell" was a favorite expression during the ’40s just as we use the word "cool" today.) If ever there were an award for a Miss Fil-American Friendship, Mama Alice would run away with it hands down.
Months passed after my meeting with Brandon, GJ and their friends at Starbucks. Brandon was in the thick of examinations last March so he did not have any time for more of my questions. He graduated last April and finally e-mailed to check if I still had the book.
I replied, "Of course, I have it!" and told him that I wanted to write about Mama Alice and Richard Miller in time for July 4, which is Fil-American Friendship Day. That their friendship blossomed during the war made it so special.
I knew I had a great story to write about but I wanted more details – the juicier, the better. Could a little love have sparked between our young lass from Negros and the dashing GI from Texas? Can Brandon get more photos and correspondences to augment the material we had?
Brandon said, "Yes!" so we set up another meeting, this time with his cousins Jan LaO and Jake de la Paz, and my friend, William Tanterles. He brought two lovely photos of the young Alice, a Christmas card from Richard’s mom, and a letter from Richard himself. In between texts and phone calls to their relatives in Negros and to Mama Alice, we unraveled a little more about our wartime saga.
Young Alice was caught in the frightening reality and emotional drama of the war. Fate intertwined her life with that of a soldier who almost died in air combat, a mother who was very lonely on the other side of the globe, and the day-to-day complexities of living in the Negros hacienda with her four older sisters and two brothers.
On November 27, 1945, she received a Christmas card with a letter from Richard. He wrote:
"Dear Alice, I sincerely hope you’ll forgive me for not writing sooner but I’ve been extremely busy. I have to travel constantly with the job I have which allows me very little time to myself.
"I often think of all my friends on Negros (island). Especially this month since it was a year ago, the first of November that my plane was shot down. As a favor to me, I wish that every time you see someone that I know, tell them hello for me. I hope to return to Negros someday before too long for a visit. As a matter of fact, I’m trying to interest a certain firm over here to open an office in your area. If I can do it, I’d like to move over and manage the office. Of course, deals of this nature take time so we’ll have to wait and see what happens. I’ll write a longer letter later. I hope that you and everyone have a very merry Xmas.
"Sincerely, Dick Miller"
We were all tickled pink at the prospect of a seeming romance blossoming between Mama Alice and Sgt. Miller. I asked Brandon to call up Negros to personally ask his grandma if indeed a love affair was ignited between the two. Embarrassed, Brandon asked Mama Alice, who in turn denied such a thing.
As fate would have it, Mama Alice fell in love and got married to a dynamic, young stockbroker, Romulo Cordova, who later became the head of the NASUTRA or National Sugar Trade. Their union produced four lovely daughters and 15 grandchildren.
I kidded Brandon and his cousins, "If your Mama Alice ended up with Sgt. Richard Miller, you wouldn’t be here today!"
We all laughed and I headed for my computer to write Alice’s story. Typing the article, I mused, "What if all those soldiers who are still alive today returned and surprised Alice with a grand reunion on Manapla beach? Wouldn’t that be the swellest thing ever?"
You may access The Philippine STAR Internet archives for the following:
An Intriguing Dinner for a Blue-eyed Young Man, May 7, 2000 at http://www.philstar.com/philstar/archive.asp?content_id=5791&category_id=18
Who is Amorsolo’s Blue-eyed Young Man?, May 21, 2000 at http://www.philstar.com/philstar/archive.asp?content_id=6507&category_id=18.
I’d love to hear from you! E-mail deeperdoor@yahoo.com or deropedero@hotmail.com. This article is copyrighted. Reprinting or duplication in any form requires permission from the author. My book, Jewels for the Mind, a collection of thoughts, formulas and affirmations for success, prosperity and fulfillment, is available at National Book Store, Powerbooks and PageOne, Rockwell.
On May 7 last year, I wrote about a small but breathtaking painting by the Filipino master Fernando Amorsolo – a stunning portrait of an angelic, blue-eyed, young man. Frozen in the masterful brushstrokes and time-mellowed pigments is a soft smile that seemed to grow both in intensity and gentleness, the longer you looked at the painting. Most people who have seen it swear that the young man seems to gaze right back into the very depths of the viewer’s soul.
Someone wrote that the young man was a guest at the home of an old, prominent family in the early ’50s, and that a lady from that family had the portrait commissioned. The writer claimed that the painting was the only possession the family kept from the public and that it was a secret they did not want to talk about. Her grandmother saw the portrait in a house in Batangas and later, in Vigan. The last clue they had was that it was hidden in an old circular Spanish cemetery in Nagcarlan, Laguna in the early ’80s.
"The man in the portrait is probably Sgt. Miller," she declared. "Don’t they just look alike?"
"Missing in action are Staff Sgt. Richard L. Miller, Staff Sgt. Eddie R. Longer and Staff Sgt. John A. Kramer... Sgt. Miller has been reported missing in action over Los (sic) Negros Island since November 1, according to information received by his mother, Mrs. John L. Miller, 2040 North Boulevard. The sergeant’s father, Maj. J. L. Miller, has served overseas for the past three years and at present is stationed in New Guinea. They met for a few hours on October 23 in the Netherlands East Indies. Word that his son has been reported missing was cabled to Major Miller while he was on an inspection tour. Young Miller, radio gunner on a B-24, graduated from Deer Park, and was in his first year at the University of Texas when he entered the air forces in November 1942. He has been overseas for eight months."
The Azconas lived in Hacienda Rosalia, a huge sugar plantation in Negros Occidental, which was named after Alice’s grandmother. Their house was a grand colonnaded structure with high ceilings, long porches, and huge windows fronting the beautiful, sunny beach of Manapla. Lining the property were graceful coconut trees that disappeared into the undulating hills densely planted with rows upon rows of sugar cane. Hacienda Rosalia was one of the most productive and well-equipped sugar plantations in Negros at that time.
It was November 1944, almost three years after the treacherous bombing of Pearl Harbor, and the Pacific War was raging. The Japanese Imperial Army battled the American Forces for supremacy over the Philippine Islands. There was a fierce dogfight over Hacienda Rosalia that first day of November. The whole household was terrified at the menacing sounds of airplanes and machineguns, and was jolted by the splash of a fighter plane as it crashed into the sea a few meters from the beach.
Two American soldiers had parachuted out of the plane. One was gunned to death by the Japanese; the other was wounded, landing on the sugar cane fields. The soldier was rescued by the hacienda workers and was brought to the big house. Alice’s mother ordered him hidden in the nearby hills where he will be safe from the Japanese soldiers who patrolled the area. She also feared for her family’s life in case the Japanese found out they were harboring an American.
The young man was nursed back to health by the hacienda workers and other members of the Azcona household. He identified himself as Staff Sgt. Richard L. Miller from Houston, Texas. Alice, then young, lovely and single, became a friend. She brought him food and baked muffins. Several days later some Americans passed by the hacienda and retrieved him.
"...First, I want to thank you for being so good to Richard. You will never know how much I appreciate your kindness to him. He never arrived in the States until March 13th as he had to wait at "Biak" several weeks for a boat. He was with me a month, then he had to go to Santa Monica, California. Was there two months then came back and got his discharge June 19th, went to work July 2nd for Thibodeaux Steamship Co. He meets ships and is very busy as he has to work so much at night. But he likes his work very much and is feeling and looking fine. He now weighs 146 lbs. He was very thin when he arrived.
"I am so happy to have him home as I have been so very lonely, as my husband has been in Australia nearly four years. But we expect him home next month so we are looking forward to a happy Christmas...
"Please thank everyone that was so good to Richard, and do hope you and your family have a lovely Christmas. Thank you again for your kindness. Best regards.
Sincerely, Mrs. Miller"
We were all slightly disappointed but I told them how ecstatic I felt anyway. I found it extremely amazing how one story can lead to another and afford us the pleasure of unfolding its beauty.
As you open the autograph book, the air around it gets permeated with a mysterious scent – some sort of hazy mixture of old perfume, pressed flowers, and the enigmatic smell of time. The years have painted their patina on its brittle pages and each leaf is laden with precious memories of fun, halcyon days gone by. On each page are inscribed the greetings and signature of an American GI or friends Mama Alice met. Poring through the leaves, you can almost hear the laughter on the beach, the ’40s big band music, and the lapping of the waves on the shore.
At that time, Hacienda Rosalia was brimming with prosperity and excitement. American officers and enlisted men would spend a day of rest and recreation at the beach, and most often would be invited to the Azcona mansion for a sumptuous lunch or dinner, dance and games. Alice was young, stunning, and vibrant, and she met them all. She would ask the GI’s to write little dedications on her autograph book and paste a small photo of each one so that she would remember their names and faces.
Over 70 signatures written between 1944 and 1947 are found in the little book, all thanking and wishing Alice the best. Here are some of the dedications:
"The Philippines will always be remembered by me as the best of my overseas stay. Because of your charming hospitality, Occ. Negros will always be foremost in my memories." – Jerome Paulson, Capt., M.C., Sun Prairie, Wisconsin.
"As soon as I arrived at your home on 26 January, I said it was "Paradise Regained." And I am really convinced this was the best weekend since I left the States. Your hospitality was wonderful, the food, swimming, and sailing were perfect. May you and your mother enjoy good health, happiness and prosperity. I will look forward to seeing you in the States. Most sincerely," – Louis L. Goldstein, Lt. U.S.M.C., Prince Frederick, Maryland, 40 miles from Washington, D.C.
"For all the rest of my life, my visits here will be remembered as some of my happiest hours. May your luck always be good." – Julian P. Hoffmann, 2nd Lt. MAC.
"To the people of the P.I., May we have the best of wishes after this conflict is all over. Forever a friend" – Darral S. Bliss, 274 2nd St. Idaho Falls, Idaho.
"To the most beautiful beach home since I left Calif., ‘Home Sweet Home’." – Danny Rense, 502 No. Bedford Dr., Beverly Hills, Calif.
"Best wishes and success to our girl of Negros. I’ve really enjoyed my stay here." – Everett H. Buness, 715 So. 58th St., Tacoma, Wash.
Some of the dedications were charming and funny, so reminiscent of the 1940s:
"Dear Alice, May your future be as bright as your eyes are tonight.
Sincerely" – Frank di Cenzo, Jr., 2nd Lt. Inf., 924 Island Ave., McKees Rocks, Pittsburgh, Pa.
"Whenever you see an air mattress, please think of me." – D. R. Fathern.
"When your old cat runs up a tree, just pull her tail and think of me.
A friend forever" – S/Sgt. Bob Schofield
"Yours till Niagara Falls." – "Red" LaVancher, 205 Burnet Park Drive, Syracuse, New York
"Your dynamic personality is genuine. I am happy to know that I have spent many happy hours in your presence." – Frank Kathiewicz, 22 B Street, Buffalo, New York
"May you always sail on the Ship of Ambition and anchor in the Harbor of Success. Your best wisher and sincere acquaintance," – Tony Pacheco, Chama, New Mexico, P.O. Box 4
"To Alice, Here’s a toast to a grand person. I pray for a happy future for you and your grand little country. An acquaintance," – Sgt. Eddie P. Nixon, Rouge, Texas
Of course, one of the treasured dedications next to the "Missing In Action" newspaper clipping was the young Staff Sergeant’s: "Your people are very kind, I certainly appreciate the help you all have given me." – S/Sgt. Richard L. Miller.
Judging from the messages written by the American soldiers, Mama Alice must have really been quite a "swell" girl. ("Swell" was a favorite expression during the ’40s just as we use the word "cool" today.) If ever there were an award for a Miss Fil-American Friendship, Mama Alice would run away with it hands down.
I replied, "Of course, I have it!" and told him that I wanted to write about Mama Alice and Richard Miller in time for July 4, which is Fil-American Friendship Day. That their friendship blossomed during the war made it so special.
I knew I had a great story to write about but I wanted more details – the juicier, the better. Could a little love have sparked between our young lass from Negros and the dashing GI from Texas? Can Brandon get more photos and correspondences to augment the material we had?
Brandon said, "Yes!" so we set up another meeting, this time with his cousins Jan LaO and Jake de la Paz, and my friend, William Tanterles. He brought two lovely photos of the young Alice, a Christmas card from Richard’s mom, and a letter from Richard himself. In between texts and phone calls to their relatives in Negros and to Mama Alice, we unraveled a little more about our wartime saga.
On November 27, 1945, she received a Christmas card with a letter from Richard. He wrote:
"Dear Alice, I sincerely hope you’ll forgive me for not writing sooner but I’ve been extremely busy. I have to travel constantly with the job I have which allows me very little time to myself.
"I often think of all my friends on Negros (island). Especially this month since it was a year ago, the first of November that my plane was shot down. As a favor to me, I wish that every time you see someone that I know, tell them hello for me. I hope to return to Negros someday before too long for a visit. As a matter of fact, I’m trying to interest a certain firm over here to open an office in your area. If I can do it, I’d like to move over and manage the office. Of course, deals of this nature take time so we’ll have to wait and see what happens. I’ll write a longer letter later. I hope that you and everyone have a very merry Xmas.
"Sincerely, Dick Miller"
As fate would have it, Mama Alice fell in love and got married to a dynamic, young stockbroker, Romulo Cordova, who later became the head of the NASUTRA or National Sugar Trade. Their union produced four lovely daughters and 15 grandchildren.
I kidded Brandon and his cousins, "If your Mama Alice ended up with Sgt. Richard Miller, you wouldn’t be here today!"
We all laughed and I headed for my computer to write Alice’s story. Typing the article, I mused, "What if all those soldiers who are still alive today returned and surprised Alice with a grand reunion on Manapla beach? Wouldn’t that be the swellest thing ever?"
An Intriguing Dinner for a Blue-eyed Young Man, May 7, 2000 at http://www.philstar.com/philstar/archive.asp?content_id=5791&category_id=18
Who is Amorsolo’s Blue-eyed Young Man?, May 21, 2000 at http://www.philstar.com/philstar/archive.asp?content_id=6507&category_id=18.
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