A
BARE-CHESTED man in his late teens was seated blindfolded in a wooden
stool, his hands and feet tied inside a concrete dark window-less
room while a solitary naked GE bulb shone on his bruised and swollen
face. The putrid odor of cigarettes and urine in the air masked the
stench of blood that flowed that night.
A halo of light flickers in the dark portion of the enclosed interrogation
room from the Marlboro cigarette wedged between the fingers of a young
man in khaki uniform with the insignia of the Metrocom, the dreaded
intelligence arm of the military, a year before martial law was declared.
The year was 1971, a year that will forever change the course of
the history of the Filipino nation. It was just three months after
the First Quarter Storm and a month after the staged ambush by the
country's Defense Minister and the Philippines is like a time bomb
waiting to explode.
2Lt. Pacifico Laxa was a fresh graduate from the prestigious military
academy when he was instantly drawn into the heart of the conflict
against the perceived enemies of the state by his first assignment
out of the academy—the Metrocom.
He is the intelligence and operations officer of Special Project
Alpha tasked to interrogate and gather information from captured activist
and cadres of the growing CPP-NPA, an assignment that he did with
relish, a fact that did not escape the eye of his Commanding Officer
and mentor, Major Rolando Albarillo.
Inside the room, sat Noli Carpio, the leader of one of the student
organizations suspected by the military to be a communist front. He
was captured by the men of Lieutenant Laxa while conducting a teach-in
in one of the depressed areas in Caloocan.
Like many students of that time he was idealistic and believed they
were fighting a just cause by exposing the ills of the so-called New
Society that the Dictator espoused.
After several hours of intense questioning and endless form of persuasion
made by the boyish looking Lieutenant Laxa for Noli to tell on his
comrades, the young activist simply refuses to talk and the patience
of the young, bespectacled military officer is running out.
"What were you doing in that area? Were you conducting a teach-in
on Communism? Who are your companions?"
Noli kept mum. This further infuriated the military officer, who
was now beginning to lose his cool.
"Goddamit, tell me now. I want the names of your comrades, how
many of you are operating in the area? Is Ka Randy one of them? How
many have you killed already? What are your plans?"
Not getting a response from the captive activist, he kicked the stool
with his right foot causing the chair to crash into the wall and for
Noli Carpio to fall onto the wet concrete floor. As he struggled to
get up, a vicious kick from his interrogator hit him in the kisser
causing his head to snap back and fall to the ground for the second
time. His mouth was now bloodied, but still not a word came from his
mouth.
Lt. Laxa removed the blindfold from the eyes of Noli Beltran as he
un-holstered his standard-issued Colt .45 pistol, removed the magazine,
and took several bullets from it. "You want it the hard way,
I'll give you what you want." He told Noli who remained silent
as he looked into the bloodied activist with his cold, calculating
eyes behind the lens of his rimless glasses. Noli Carpio saw his eyes
and dread crept into his entire body, for he saw nothing in them but
coldness, the eyes of a heartless and vicious man. He knew that this
man would kill him if he did not give in to his demands, but he was
sworn to secrecy and he was not about to break that oath and endanger
his comrades-in-arms.
He saw the cigarette hit the ground before the rubber-soled combat
boots of his captor stepped on it and felt the cold muzzle of the
gun on his forehead. He looked up and saw Lt. Laxa look down at him
and pull the trigger. Noli closed his eyes and steeled himself for
a reunion with his maker when he heard the familiar click of an empty
chamber followed by the boisterous laughter of the Lieutenant as he
whispered to his ear, "I thought you're not afraid to die, huh,
red fighter? I am not through with you yet. Oh, no, but if I can get
the juice that I wanted from your comrade in the other room, you're
history."
Noli just stared blank into the blank wall while straining his ears
for anything but only deafening silence of the dark room confronted
him. His thoughts were on the fate that befell him and the last conversation
he had with his mother yesterday just before he was captured with
three of his kasamas.
Her mother has always warned him not to join the movement. She always
reasoned out that where the country was heading was not in their hands;
besides, the Dictator was so powerful and shrewd that he knew what
he was doing. To which he would retort by saying the phrase, "Kung
hindi tayo kikilos, sino ang kikilos? Kung hindi ngayon, kailan pa?"
To which her mother would keep mum and keep whatever thoughts to herself
out of respect for her son's point of view. And he loved her for that
though he was never the showy kind when it came to his affection.
Still, he loved and admired his mother dearly.
That fateful morning, she packed lunch consisting of his favorite
tocino and itlog na maalat knowing fully well that her son would be
joining a spiritual retreat of his class in Tagaytay, or so she thought,
for he deemed it right at that time not to tell her that they were
actually going to Bagong Silang for "immersion" with the
urban poor community. Things did not turn out right for they were
caught by the sona conducted by the elements of Metrocom and were
hauled to this safehouse somewhere in Metro Manila. He decided that
he needed to do something and escape from his captors.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the lock being moved,
followed by those familiar foot falls coming from the heavy wooden
door. "Im back," a grinning Lt. Laxa greeted him as he entered
the room but his cold eyes betrayed him.
At that instant Noli knew that his time had come, said a little prayer
and closed his eyes as he felt the steel coldness on his forehead.
Then his vision turned crimson and there was darkness. Noli Carpio,
the young idealist was no more.
Lt. Pacifico Laxa stared at his victim's face just before he pulled
the trigger and fired splattering across the room the activist's blood
and tissues. He spat on the man's lifeless body as he ordered his
men to put it inside a sack and into the baggage compartment of an
unmarked old Toyota, which was driven to the south of Manila somewhere
in the jungles of Ternate where they burned the body till all traces
of it disappeared.
Somewhere in the stillness of the night, a mother is waiting for
his son to come home.
---------------
So the people may know:
The hundreds of documented and undocumented
cases of Filipinos who disappeared after the declaration of Martial
Law in 1972 up to the present are still unaccounted for. Not a single
person has been convicted for the atrocities committed during the
Philippines's darkest period. Most officers like Lt. Pacifico Laxa
went on to become heads of their respective units in the police and
the military while some were even appointed or elected to higher government
posts.
The saga of the families of desaparecidos
in the Philippines continues.
