OH MY HERO!

Stories My Lolo told Me

Dots and Dashes: The Story of a WWII Radio Operator

Name: Lilina Chelle D. Balena

School: University of the Philippines High School in Iloilo  

Interviewee: Ildefonso D. Cezar

I took for granted our class lessons in World War II thinking that, after all, it was so boring to relive the past and I could not stand imagining about all those unforgiving cannons and bombings. Indeed, I never had a good idea of patriotism — until I joined the 2008 WWII True Stories Contest in which, in order to compete, I had to interview a veteran. Because of this interview, I came to realize the significance of this particular conflict in our history. More than that, now I can tell a story about patriotism.

We all know simply that communication means the “giving and receiving of information.” But, perhaps, many of us, myself especially, appreciate hardly the fact that communication is very vital because, without it, I imagine that life would be senseless, much like losing a small “child in a crowd.”

I called him “grandpa,” and he did not mind. My interviewee was a simple man. But, he was very rare kind of person in that he showed the highest form of love for his country– patriotism. At 15 years of age, he needed no job during the war, but he aspired to take the job as radio operator simply because he thought it was a way to help his country. Actually, he told me, point blank, that he wanted the job but never cared about the so-called back pays.

His father, a very skillful radio technician from Silliman University, was recruited by  Col. Peralta to establish a radio station in Antique-way up in the mountains. He was successful in building a radio with a powerful transmitter, remarkably, from scratch, by assembling parts made available to him. That radio station established the very first communication between Col. Peralta, a famed Filipino guerilla leader, and Gen. Macarthur. That earned him a military rank of second lieutenant because he was recruited immediately to serve the combined Philippine-US army. Much like his son, my “grandpa,” who loved also his country so dearly, the father did not let go of the opportunity to serve. Perhaps, I should say “like father, like son.”

“Grandpa” told me that his most unforgettable experience during the war was but with the radio station that his father built. Yes, he worked there, too! He mastered the International Morse Code before he could turn 16 years old! To get the job, he first volunteered to take over the menial task of delivering news and messages whenever the “permanent” workers go home to visit their families. He never liked to enlist formally. He wanted just to serve. That was his passion.

“Grandpa” was facing a large calendar during interview. It had the printed words “March” and “Carlos,” which he read to me gladly in Morse coded language. He explained that Morse code represents all letters and symbols in our alphabet in terms of dots and dashes, which, when grouped together, forms a word. He said that the code was safe to use in messaging during the war because the Japanese did not seem to know how to decipher the system. Morse code was his life ­he spoke so passionately about it and, always, as his only means to serve his country. “Dots and dashes,” I know now.

He did work in the radio station for three years. He served also as lookout and errand messenger. He was always busy with the task of delivering news. He was preoccupied with them and used to have a neat compilation of the messages sent and received. I asked him if he was afraid of doing this job because it was very risky especially to him as a young man. But he ignored the danger. With a firm resolve on his face, he replied softly that he knew that he could lose his life. He knew too well that whenever someone was caught by the Japanese just helping the Filipino army, he would not live beyond the next day. I almost shrieked at the thought of it. He noticed that and, as if to calm me down, he added that some assurance was guaranteed by two companies of guerillas at the foot of the mountains, guarding the radio station. But, of course, he faced real danger. One time, he did receive a notice of the penetration of the Japanese. Nothing happened to him, but such news made him both alert and nervous.

Without that radio station, communication was impossible. We now realize that communication at that time was so important- life-saving, as a matter of fact. Without communication, our army would be that lost small “child in a crowd,” looking for their crucial commanders and generals to guide them with the proper strategy in the battlefield. Our army at that time already was helpless for lack of food and munitions and greatly outnumbered by its enemies. Thanks to the radio station. After all, those lowly “dots and dashes” played their role so well, changing the outcome of events in favor of our guerilla fighters and allied American soldiers. Should I say thanks to the father and the son?

     Before he could be a radio operator, “Grandpa” was then much younger when he witnessed the bombing of Lapuz, Iloilo City by 17 Japanese bombers. The bombing caused the explosion of our fuel depots. The entire district was in flames for about two weeks! Somehow, I thought, though he never mentioned a thing, I sensed that he was bitter and wanting some sort of revenge. All of a sudden, I felt what it means to be loyal to my country “Grandpa” did work also as a collector in his father’s transport business (the first and only Antique bus line), and he would travel the route from Iloilo City to Antique and vice versa. At that time, to avoid crowding by short-range passengers leaving the city to nearer towns like Oton and Tigbauan, he and the driver would hide their bus somewhere along the stretch of Gen. Luna St. Then the disadvantaged passengers of Antique would receive secret messages of the exact location of the bus. The bus was the only long-distance transportation from the city to Antique. “Grandpa’s” thoughts of Antique were very vivid, and he would talk so passionately about the place. Now, I knew better-patriotism is loyalty wrapped in some warm cloth of love?

This man — I am even prouder calling him “Grandpa” — demonstrated not only patriotism but our long treasured Filipino values of courage and loyalty to fellowmen and allies. He took those lowly tasks during World War II — lookout, messenger, collector, and “dots and dashes” operator. He risked his life, so those tasks were not really lowly after all! Once again, I wondered, but it was clear that he never cared about any sort of back pays.

Imagine the destruction that the Japanese brought to our country. They bombarded our towns, tortured our people, and raped our hapless women and children. The ruthless enemy massacred lots of innocent people! Simply, “grandpa” would explain that those conquerors were plain ambitious. They wanted to colonize us and the rest of us in Asia. But, thanks to all our unsung heroes like my “dots and dashes grandpa,” whose love of country, above all shining Filipino qualities, saved us from Japanese who would have made us ingredients to their tempura and sushi. Not so many know of them, but the likes of my “Grandpa” freed us from bondage and granted us our long-sought independence. History books must be re-written: Heroes, like Grandpa,” are born today.

I felt rather sad finishing my interview with “Grandpa.” Before I left his place, I made him to sign a release form sought by the writing contest. I explained to him the mechanics of the contest, and asked him to pray for a chance to win. I thought that winning might perk him up, knowing that his story and photos might end up in the daily newspapers. I mentioned about the prizes, too! But he just smiled at me and said, “you take all those that belong to us, the glory and everything really, you, young lady deserves it all.” Indeed, he never cared for back pays, and he does things for others – now for me!

I left “Grandpa” with that unseen gift he bestowed on my shoulders. I know that I have to grow up to understand more. But I do know more. When I grow up to be like him, I would pass the same gift to all children now my age.

It is amusing. I just wanted a glimpse of what patriotism is all about, and I never had it until I stumbled on the “dots and dashes” story.

God bless this country!