Beyond the clouds, our heroes in flight

When the Philippine Air Force (PAF) celebrated its 78th anniversary last July 1, I found myself not only reflecting as a military officer but also as a nephew, pilot, survivor, and above all, a grateful Filipino.
This year’s theme, “Focus PAF @78: Advancing Air Power by Committing to Mission, Strengthening Capabilities, and Championing Core Values,” speaks volumes about what our dedicated airmen and airwomen continue to stand for.
As President Ferdinand R. Marcos Jr. powerfully stated in his speech, “You do all your work in the sky so that all of us here on the ground may live in peace and security.” The Commander-in-Chief reaffirmed his unwavering support for the Armed Forces’ modernization and the well-being of our troops, knowing that behind every airstrike and relief drop is a soldier who just wants to serve.
Indeed, behind every fighter jet, rescue mission, and medal are stories—personal, painful, inspiring. In this column, I want to share a few.
A story that has always stood out to me is that of my Uncle Libbie Brawner, a proud member of PMA Class of 1967, who once served with honor in the PAF. His legacy of courage lives on in our family and lives rent-free in the hearts of those he saved. One time, then-Senator Gringo Honasan approached me and said something I’ll never forget: “I owe my life to your Uncle Libbie.”
They were under heavy fire. There was a decision to make. Despite the threat, my uncle landed the chopper and rescued those trapped—including former Senator Gringo, PMA Class of ’71. No hesitation. Just action, fueled by duty and love of country.
I deeply empathize with our pilots because I know their everyday struggles.
I had the distinct honor and privilege of completing the Philippine Army Aviator Qualification Course. I even flew the Philippine Navy’s AW109 helicopter a few times. I will never forget the rush of adrenaline—how thrilling it felt to be up in the air, defying gravity. But like any ordinary person, I also felt fear, knowing that in the skies, anything can go wrong in an instant. Flying is both a privilege and a risk. That’s why I have so much respect for those who do it every day—not just for the mission but for all of us on the ground.
I know the dangers all too well because I have lived them. On July 4, 2021, I boarded a PAF C-130 aircraft from Manila to Cagayan de Oro, where I was set to assume command of the 4th Infantry Division the very next day. It was a routine flight—uneventful and calm. We landed safely at Lumbia Airport, and I went about my duties. However, three hours later, news broke that the same C-130 aircraft I had flown on had crashed in Jolo. I remember the feeling—how everything seemed to stop for a moment. More than 50 lives were lost in that tragedy. These were brave pilots and crew, and many young soldiers who had just begun their journey in service to our nation. I could not help but think I could have been one of them.
Among those who responded that day was then-Battalion Commander Charlotte Valdez. Through tears and chaos, she and her team accounted for all the fallen and extended aid to the injured in just twelve hours. That’s not just service but bayanihan in its truest form. This year, on the same date, the 11th Infantry Division honored their memory with a solemn tribute. Their stories live on in us.
Later, as Commander of the 4th Infantry Division, I was aboard one of two helicopters headed to a forward operating base in Impasugong, Bukidnon. Mid-flight, we came under fire from NPA rebels. One chopper was hit, and we were forced to make an emergency landing. Thankfully, no one was hurt, but it was a sobering glimpse into the unforgiving nature of the skies we brave.
Years later, in 2024, as Chief of Staff of the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP), I once again took to the skies aboard a PAF FA-50 jet fighter. We conducted a patrol over the West Philippine Sea and engaged in an air-to-air combat drill— a two against two, simulating a dogfight.
The experience was exhilarating but also a stark reminder of what our airmen face. That truth struck hard on March 4, 2025, when an FA-50 crashed during an actual combat operation over Mt. Kalatungan in Bukidnon. We lost two of our fighter pilots that day—brave, committed warriors who gave their lives in the line of duty.
The Philippine Air Force stands as a shield above us, defending our airspace and protecting our freedom. The peace we enjoy today, both above and on the ground, is the result of your vigilance, valor, and selflessness.
To my brothers and sisters in the PAF, I speak not only as Chief of Staff of the AFP, but also as someone who has flown beside you, witnessed your bravery, and grieved your fallen. You are more than just pilots and crew—you are guardians of the skies. Heroes in flight.
From tracking hundreds of unidentified aircraft in our air defense zone to monitoring thousands of foreign vessels, disrupting crimes, and saving lives during calamities—your achievements are not merely statistics. They are proof that the Philippine Air Force remains agile, credible, and indispensable to our national security.
As Commanding General of PAF, Lt. Gen. Arthur Cordura wisely said, “More than platforms and systems, it is our values that propel us forward—integrity, service above self, teamwork, excellence, professionalism.”
I could not agree more. The future of air power is not built merely on hardware but on heartware—on the values, dedication, and mettle of every man and woman who wears the wings. This spirit of service and sacrifice is what fuels not only the Philippine Air Force but the entire Armed Forces of the Philippines. It is what keeps our skies safe, our borders secure, and our people free. That is The General Idea.

