It all began in Apr. 2004, when the Army slew Abu Sayyaf chieftain Hamsiraji Sali and five followers in Makiri, Basilan. One soldier was killed and three wounded in the skirmish. But the important thing was that Sali, one of five most wanted terrorists with a million-dollar price on his head, was to kidnap and murder no more. Abu, then-Army head, hailed the feat as heroic and promptly recommended the team leader, Lt. Col. Noel Buan, for the MOV. Commander-in-Chief Gloria Arroyo so announced.
The MOV is reserved only for soldiers who perform a singular act of valor, beyond the call of duty, distinguished from lesser forms of gallantry. The feat must entail risk of life, without regard for own safety, in honorable combat. Uncontestable proof must be narrated by at least two eyewitnesses. All these are to be verified by an 11-man AFP-Award and Decoration Board (ADB) that includes the vice heads of the Army, Navy and Air Force.
In July 2004, as morale boost, then-AFP chief Narciso Abaya formed a separate board exclusively for the MOV, tasked to uphold its integrity. It was to consist of the ADB, with two past MOV medalists as members and the vice chief of staff as chairman. Then-vice chief Rodolfo Garcia convened the MOV Board at once to deliberate on its first case: Buan. Medalist Cols. Arturo Ortiz (Army) and Custodio Parcon (Navy) proudly joined. In that first meeting, the 14 officers agreed that any decision must be unanimous.
It was key in fulfilling their mission. The MOV imbues an awardee a lifetime monthly stipend of P20,000. On his demise, the widow will get the cash until she dies too or remarries, in which case it passes onto unmarried children of minor age. The family also gets priority in government jobs and housing, even 20-percent discounts in hotels, restaurants, transport, sports centers, theaters, and hospitals all over the country – on top of education grants. Yet MOV awardees consider it priceless because of the heroism associated with it – one that requires even the Commander-in-Chief to salute them.
Garcia retired after six sessions but before a final vote. On succeeding Vice Adm. Ariston delos Reyes moved to rush the judging. Malacañang, he said during one meeting, was following up on the Buan papers. Ortiz and Parcon protested, for they were still grilling witnesses for discrepancies in the narratives.
The medalist-jurors were wary of a seeming treachery in the Basilan incident. From accounts of two Sali relatives, the terrorist boss was set to surrender in exchange for P200,000 cash for clan livelihood and legal aid in lawsuits. Sali had in fact met Buan days before to arrange the terms, during which he gifted him with an AK-47 rifle and a barong dagger as sign of trust and goodwill. They were to meet again on Apr. 8 at the hut of one Amping for the formal surrender. Buan was to bring only five men; Sali likewise, counting an ailing brother and a son of Amping who were to give up too.
That day Buan arrived with five soldiers alright, but he also posted nearby a blocking force of 14, plus another 17 reinforcements on a hillside. After signing the surrender, Sali, Buan, their respective five men, Amping and the two female kin stepped out for snapshots. There, according to the women, Buan asked if Sali had more followers hiding in the woods behind the hut. Sali looked around and, noticing the 14 backup soldiers, raised his M-16 rifle in anger and fired at Sgt. Leopoldo Diokno. Although grazed in the shoulder, Diokno jumped Sali and shot him dead. A second bandit fired a shotgun, wounding another soldier. Buan and a corporal grabbed him and a third bandit, killing them as well. In the scuffle, Buan was hit in the palm. More volleys felled the three remaining enemies. When the smoke cleared, a soldier lay dead. The women swore the last three bandits were unarmed. Investigators surmised the soldier must have been killed by friendly fire, for the surrounding troops had fired indiscriminately.
In his report Buan said a firefight ensued for 90 minutes, with unseen bandits sniping from the woods. Ortiz and Parcon, both battle veterans, doubted him. Counting the firearms and bullets used up, they concluded from other soldiers’ accounts that the shooting lasted only a minute. They queried too how Buan and four standing men could safely retreat across a brook, lugging the bodies of the Sali brothers and the soldier, on a raft that carried only two men at a time. It was, for the assessors, a rubout that had gone awry. Ortiz and Parcon counseled to award Buan, but not an MOV.
The Board ignored them. On judgment day, it changed the rule from unanimous to two-thirds vote. Two members were absent. Eight voted for, four against, giving Buan the coveted medal.
In a land in search of heroes, questioning a decorated one is painful to do. But Ortiz, Parcon and six other MOV awardees still in the service believe it their duty, not to demean Buan but to defend the honor of medalists who have since passed away.
Perhaps the to-do would have died too had Abu not exacerbated it. Days before Buan’s awarding on AFP Day last Dec. 21, he egged the MOV Board to award Sgt. Diok-no as well. On Jan. 5 Ortiz pleaded for review of the two awards. Abu obliged via a committee that met only twice in March without taking up the objections of Ortiz and Parcon. In May they got wind of a new prodding from Abu to re-award with MOVs two Army sergeants whom he had given, decades ago when he was still a lieutenant, Gold Cross Medals, the AFP’s third highest honor. Ortiz and Parcon resigned from the Board, and not one of the other medalists has taken over.