The Mapitagan

Seeing the Philippine Military Academy (PMA) homecoming streamers in Tarlac, I wondered how the PMAers descend upon Baguio when they’re chosen to be cadets. Where do they get to meet their cadets’ girls when their hallowed grounds are surrounded by green rolling revered hills, delicate blooms of fuchsia, violet, red and every other color in the universe that God created?

That sight from my picture window the dew, frost and low-flying clouds gives me bouts of melancholia. It was in this setting that Mapitagan Class of 1980 lived, 143 young men that dwindled to 107 on graduation day, alighting from their midnight bus from Camp Aguinaldo to Fort Pilar. They were welcomed by sunlight and members of the Class of ’78, who would become their “tormentors.” Homesick as they were, they carried the hopes of their parents who remained in their provincial homes holding their rosaries.

Baguio became a highland resort in 1903, a necessary site for Europeans and Americans to “recharge” due to the heat of the “Equator that tended to increase their vulnerability to life-threatening tropical diseases and psychological disorders.”

The weather encouraged not just better health but invited the Constabulary Academy in 1936, which eventually became the Philippine Military Academy. From Camp Allen, the PMA moved to Fort Pilar, known for its trimmed hedges that rapidly grew, defying gardeners’ orders to stunt them, and confine the PMA cadets and stop their escape to meet girls.

Jaycee, Javier Mapitagan’s class president wasn’t exempt from the “Beast Barracks,” where the 143 were welcomed for the transformation of civilians on the first phase of cadetship began. While mothers thought their sons were in summer camp, they were unaware it was a “cute pseudonym for beast barracks, which ensured conformity to a regimented life. It lasted 51 days. For the upperclassmen, it was too short for us; it was forever. Then we were incorporated into the corps, and it was summer camp all over again, this time with more upperclassmen.”

The upper class vented their ire on these loveless yearlings, rewarding then with mashe-mashe. It’s not the dance number it sounds like, it’s more cariño brutal.

These lonely ’80 yearlings Cadets Nario, Ramirez, Ordoyo, Prado, Pasamba romanced the shoe brush, discovered that butt stroke was not a swimming event, and bridge was not a game of cards.

“We learned how it was to be really hungry and to be really full,” wrote Jayvee.

I understand those terms and double meanings given the privilege of knowing cadet life and deeds of “endearment,” which are deep secrets. The men of class ’80 Perez, Tan, Tadeo, Mendoza were survivors of a regimented life.

Destined to be in different directions and different assignments, Mapitagans have crossed different paths and embarked on different journeys but with one voice, they say, “We thank God for his gift of life, love, family and friendship.” I witnessed this during the elegant reunion when former 1980 cadets declared how blissful it is to be a grandfather.

As Edgar Ladrido Abogado claims, although PMA was not a bed of roses or a walk in park, “I tackled frustrations and discouragement (through training and discipline at PMA). I was aboard a ship as junior officer, exposed to the elements at sea, for seven years. After having marked my name on the Transition Plaques of the six navy vessels that I successfully commanded, leaving my wife Janice waiting and waiting.”

“PMA was the turning point in my life entering the naval service. We began a life we never imagined. To me, upperclassmen looked like a hundred cadet prestosas, except Cadet Caccam.” Being Commodore Miguel Jose Rodriguez’s private joke and adopted by class ‘83 of PMA, their junior, I didn’t want ask. I had also availed of General Emelito and Mae Sarmiento’s treat of lamb chops and salmon. “The oath taking at the flagpole in fatigues was the only sane thing that happened that day. We became the first Dumbguards called Fourthclassmen on April Fool’s Day,” Commodore Rodriguez recalls 30 years later.

Col. Mendoza of Tibag, Tarlac said, as we ate, “I thought I was going to bite into pork.” If he commented on that in 1977 he would never have been accepted into the ranks of the bold and brave where 20/20 vision is required.

Brig. Gen. Ariel B Bernardo, AFP, arrived in Baguio all the way from the lowlands of Nabua, Camarines Sur, to become four years later a 2nd Lt. and Scout Ranger, and later finance management officer, a member of the Civil-Military Response to Terrorism. Varied have been the tasks and assignments demanded of uniformed personnel.

Immediately upon graduation, Col. Bobby Calleja was assigned as operation officer of the 61st Infantry Battalion in Mindanao. There it was, a test of his proficiency, alertness, war maneuvers and marksmanship. Wherever you’re told to go, you must, even for Commo. Ed Tamayo. who was a consistent topnotcher as naval officer.

Wherever the need, these servicemen proceed by land, sea or air. The swiftest way to travel and comply with an order. All PMAers are government employees and PNPAers are government scholars. They are differently labelled but every man and woman ready to sacrifice their life, which few civilians reflect on, and take their presence for granted.

Both government schools of officers PMA founded in 1936, PNPA in 1980 are grateful to be given the honor to be graduates and survive four years of cadet life even if it means dodging bullets, pirates and terrorists and even inter office intrigues for a lifetime.

I wish I had more space for Emelito T Sarmiento, police chief superintendent, PNP, whom I work with. He has elevated the quality of the curriculum of basic recruits to be responsive to the current, dynamic trends of police education. An intelligence officer, he was the PNP representative in numerous international gatherings of Global Security Asia, Interpol, and Aseanopol. A sports enthusiast, he believes in “Mens Sana In Corpore Sana” (Sound Body, Sound Mind), which is appropriate for his PNCOs. Another PMA-PNP military-trained is Atty. Herold G Ubalde, police chief superintendent, who has held various offices, from investigation to maritime, intelligence, legal, tactical, and mess deck. And gunnery! Engineering officer! And his wife Ana Teresita and children Shyrl, Mark, Patrick have marched along in support to their dad’s orders.

The PMA “Mapitagan” Class of 1980 is generally still in active service in the Armed Forces of Navy, PNP and Air Force except SAF’s Police Chief Superintendent Danny Ramon E. Siongco and Police Chief Superintendent Leo M Kison. In unison, they all formally announce, “We have been true to our class motto that of being a “mapitagan,” internalizing the quality of being respectful for the traditions of the institution, of justice and fair play.”