Pearl Harbor Day

* photograph from Wikipedia

Pearl Harbor Day (December 7) came and went without much ado, with just a small mention in the local papers.  It so happened that during family dinner last week, we talked about "the Date of Infamy," and Gwammy went on to relive her memories of World War II.

She distinctly remembered that once the news of the Japanese attack spread like wildfire, the American military ordered that all the warehouses at the Manila Port Area be burnt, as the "scorched earth" policy.  President Quezon had declared Manila an open city, so that wanton and needless destruction could be avoided.  Civilians were allowed to cart away food, medicine and whatever supplies were stocked at the pier before the burning started. Gwammy's family was living in Mabini St. in the Ermita area during peacetime, and my uncles Jesse and Jay were able to retrieve a large bottle of sulfanilamide tablets.  These tablets became increasingly precious as the war raged on, and several offers were made to my grandfather for the purchase thereof (with Micky Mouse money, of course).  In the days leading to the Battle for the Liberation of Manila, every time an offer was made to purchase the bottle, my lolo would increase his price, and the bottle was never sold!  Aw shucks, the story has been a standard family joke, and every time greed sets in, we'd always say--remember the bottle of sulfanilamide!

Gwammy was a little child of 10 in 1941, but she can still remember the parade of the Japanese captain riding horseback, as the Japanese army marched into Mabini St.  The family was very afraid when the procession of military cars suddenly stopped in front of their house!  It so happened that right beside them was the garage of Yellow Taxi, and the garage was turned into a military depot, due of the presence of the gasoline pumps.

During the months before liberation, Gwammy's sisters and brothers would then lie atop the roof of their house, watching the dogfights of the zeros and the American planes.  One day, a bomb fell right into their house, knocking off my lola's kamagong pedestal.  They were so lucky that the bomb was a dud!  It did not explode, and no one was hurt.  The Japanese at the next door garrison, were still afraid though, (any future explosion could ignite the stored gasoline), and immediately a bomb squad entered the house to dismantle the bomb, even though it was a dud.

Truly, music soothes the savage beast.  Throughout the war years, my grandmother, who was a concert pianist, would play her piano by candlelight (my mom recalls Moonlight Sonata and Dance of the Demons, and plenty of pieces by Franz Lizst), and those who lived along Mabini St. in Ermita could have sworn that the Japanese soldiers next door were lenient to the neighborhood because my grandmother would play the piano at night time.

Gwammy and Kong Kong have so many wartime stories, and I'll be mentioning some of them as I get some time to do so.