Amazing April
April 1, 1952
After graduation from UP High School in Diliman, Quezon City, I was at a loss on what to do with the rest of my life. Some classmates were taking the Philippine Military Academy (PMA) entrance exams and suggested that I join them. With nothing more important to do, why not? I saw the whole idea as an adventure, an opportunity to be on my own. Others spoke of love of country and service to the nation. My motives were less than noble.
On April 1, 1952, April Fool’s Day, some 80 young men, 17-21 years old, reported to Fort General Gregorio Del Pilar, home of the PMA. Most of the group came from center/lower-middle-class families. Many were products of provincial high schools with a few coming from UST, UP High, or other Metro Manila secondary schools, with probably one or two years of college work. All were chosen on the basis of competitive nationwide exams and representing congressional districts.
The moment we stepped off the buses that deposited us at Melchor Hall, we quickly turned into robots doing exactly as ordered by shouting, fierce-looking first-class cadets who kept us at double-time throughout most of the day. They would be our mentors in a tough two monthlong indoctrination program called “Beast Barracks,” designed to rid us of civilian habits and introduce discipline into our systems. For many, it was a rude awakening after a life of leisure and comfort at home. In a way, plebehood would be a year of dangerous living—staying clear of nasty upperclassmen, avoiding academic failure and constant adjustment to a life of rules, regulations, and restrictions. Most of the casualties would take place during the year.
April 4, 1956
Of the original 80 members of the class, only 51 would survive the four-year academy obstacle course. I finished at the top of the lower half. The commencement speaker at graduation rites was Speaker Jose Laurel Jr.. After a few years, the commander in chief automatically was guest of honor, a practice that continues to this day. Initially, we were all given the option to select our branch of service — I chose the Air Force — but President Ramon Magsaysay ordered all new graduates to be assigned as platoon leaders in Battalion Combat Teams (BCT) of the Philippine Army, to serve in the campaign against Hukbalahap elements. My first assignment was with “Bravo” company, 4th BCT operating in the hinterlands of Quezon province. As a greenhorn second lieutenant, it was my good fortune to have as platoon sergeant a grizzled old veteran of Huk wars. He would teach me things that were not in the books and kept me grounded. The backbone of our armed forces is this core of experienced noncommissioned officers who keep things moving efficiently.
April 4, 1957
After several months with the BCTs, we were allowed to join our respective services as originally planned. My orders were to report to the Philippine Air Force (PAF) Flying School at Fernando Air Base in Lipa City. The commanding general of the PAF at that time was Maj. Gen. Pelagio A. Cruz, who would later be the first airman to serve as Armed Forces of the Philippines chief of staff.
Our primary trainer plane was the open cockpit PT-13, with a fabric-covered fuselage and fixed landing gears. My flight instructor was Capt. Juan Estoesta, a hotshot fighter pilot from Basa Air Base who was detailed with the flying school. On April 4, 1957, after six-and-a-half hours of flying lessons, he released me for my first solo flight. As soon as my plane left the ground, I suddenly realized that no one — but no one — could help me get safely back on the ground. Everything depended solely on myself. The warning pounded into us by our instructors, that the air is so unforgiving of errors, took on a clearer meaning as I maneuvered the plane for a landing. Let me say that there are few experiences in life more thrilling than the first solo flight into the wild, blue yonder. Of the original 54 student pilots in the class, only 17 would complete the course and win their military pilot wings, symbols of flying proficiency. Almost 30 years later, I served as the 16th head of the PAF.
April 4, 2022
After stints in various military posts, the customs bureau, the diplomatic service (I was posted to Indonesia where my father also served earlier), the Department of Trade and Industry, I found myself writing a newspaper column. How I got to this point is a story, one for the books.
It is time for me to move on. Many thanks for years of fun and friendship.
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