Proclaimed "Golden Link of the Day" - the best of Cyber Pinoys
(November 11-12, 2000) by Tanikalang Ginto
I distinctly remember when as a little boy during the
war, I would go into my loving grandfather's arms, look
into his eyes and say, "Apu, how come your eyes are blue?"
And he would smile and say, "You should have seen those of
my late younger sister, Anastacia (Quiboloy), her eyes were
even bluer!" That redounded to my feeling during the later
years, especially with my discovery of other Turla's in the
internet, (http://maxpages.com/turla) that the Turlas may have
originally come from the west. Unfortunately though, no one
among my grandfather's children and grandchildren took on
such recessive traits. We are all tall in stature, however,
owing to the fact that even my grandmother was tall.
My close relationship with my grandfather dates back to
during the Japanese occupation of the Philippines. And,
actually, even earlier than that! I remember how right
after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, my folks and I had to
evacuate to the hinterlands due to an impending Japanese
invasion. I hardly had any idea on what Japanese were like but
I remember how I would keep on looking back as we were
walking along the street towards San Matias (the first barrio we
stopped over at), because my grandpa was being left behind. I
was worried about his getting caught by the Japanese, and I remember
getting reassured by my mother that he would be able to catch up
with us, and that he and my uncle were just burying our
porcelain, chinaware and silverware in the old well under the
guava trees so that the Japanese would not steal them. I remember
too when I was six years old, and my grandpa and I had to flee
from barrio Sto. Domingo because of news of Japanese approaching
the village. The Japanese soldiers were reportedly arresting all
males for whatever reason and the two of us managed to go
temporarily to a far distant barrio (Valdes, Floridablanca).
It was then the years of living dangerously! Sometimes we
would scamper and hide in our "dug-out" shelters for safety
whenever we heard the zooming Japanese airplanes overhead.
I remember all these even as a young boy, because the situation
then was restless; there was tension and fear in the air.
Whenever my folks and I would take a trip to our old house
in town to check it out, I remember having to salute the
Japanese guard standing in front of the school gate before
being allowed to pass. Then in the dead of night we would
often hear certain suspected "informers" screaming and begging
for their lives as they were given the works, usually the
dreaded "water treatment" by the "constabularyo" guards,
followed later by the sounds of their wives or mothers wailing,
as their lifeless bodies were dragged and swung into the
"bangkerwan" - the river that served as the boundary between
Lubao and Sexmoan. Similarly, in Sto. Domingo, the barrio where
we had evacuated, there was no peace and quiet. Sometimes at
night my grandfather and I would go to the rear of our
neighbors' backyard where there was a vast sugarcane field,
and watch the exchange of fire in the distance between the
Huks and the Japanese. One time while my grandfather and I
were raking leaves, a Huk, carrying his bloody wounded companion
stopped to ask us for direction. One time, while playing with
other children my age, a long battalion of Japanese soldiers
with fixed bayonets in hand came marching, and I was so scared
that I cried as I managed to cross the road in front of them
to get to the other side where our home was! That incident
really scared the daylight out of me, being just a child.
Sometimes I would see some Japanese going to a rich farmer's
house a block away, carrying the sacks of rice they had extorted.
Oftentimes too, there would be a squadron of Huks stopping
in the barrio for a day or two, and staying for the night in
the houses around including ours. I would see them sleeping
on the floor made of bamboo slabs with guns next to themselves.
My grandpa and I had seen an actual clash between the Huks and
the Japanese down on the wide shallow river behind our house.
I found out that stuff like these are poignant even in the
memory of a small boy like me, and I have the feeling that
perhaps if it had just been normal and peaceful, everything
then would now have receded into oblivion. There were too many
horrifying, unforgettable experiences! Nightmares, I would say!
When the war was over, we all returned to our war-ravaged
town. Our house and that of the Lingads, besides the school,
were the only ones left still intact and standing though hit
by cannons and struck with countless shrapnels. We were all
glad to be able to come back home - my mother, aunts and uncle,
and of course, my grandpa and I. There was victory celebration
everywhere in town. Free movies starring Humphrey Bogart,
Tyrone Power, Gary Cooper, Betty Grable, Maureen O'hara, etc.
were shown behind what was left of our dilapidated school building.
American G.I's in six-by-six trucks would throw chocolate
candy bars to children like us, and cigarettes as well,
to adults, when we gave them the victory sign with our fingers
and yell, "Victory Joe!"
By the way, my grandfather's name was Lucio Turla y Flores.
He was born in Sta. Catalina, in Lubao, Pampanga on December
13, 1868 and died in our house in San Nicolas 1st (Plaza) on
October 10, 1954 when I was almost seventeen. Inquisitive as I
was, I used to ask him to recount some of his experiences in
life during the Spanish regime especially during the Philippine
revolution against Spain and the Filipino-American war. It was
always this that intrigued me most about him, because at that
time my ambition was to become a cadet or pilot when I grew up.
He said that as a young man he dreamed of attending the trade
school in Bacolor but that was not realized because of the death
of his father. He could not find a good job and so he waited
till he was around 33 years of age before marriage came to his
mind. The scarcity of jobs in the province compelled him to find
his luck in the city and he went to Tondo, staying at a relative's
shack there while looking around for employment. His first job
was in a small factory where he worked for around five years.
Then, luckily, with the help of a new friend of his from
Macabebe, he was hired as a sentry in Intramuros, and soon
afterwards he found himself going through a lot of rigorous
combat training. He learned the art of "arnis" or fencing,
and he just had to refresh himself with wrestling, because
as a boy, he could outwrestle all the boys of his age in his
neighborhood. For three years he was with the Guardia Civil.
But due to the influence of a cousin of his who was an
activist, he was little by little drawn into a brewing
nationalistic movement. All of these was in secrecy, as his
cousin was only telling him about the discontent of the Filipinos
with the Spaniards but never telling him about any organized
movement. He was all along unaware of the existence of the
Katipunan until the day it was discovered. When the Spaniards
broke into his cousin's place of work and arrested him after
finding evidence connecting him to a suspected secret society,
he made the decision to quit from his position and decided to
look for another job. He said he could not accept it in his
heart to fight against his brother Filipinos. A few days
after the Cry of Balintawak, he joined the Katipunan movement,
even using his own cousin as a reference, and was among those
who saw action in the battle of San Juan del Monte.
He was in every losing battle and was fortunate in being
able to escape death in the hands of his quondam comrades.
At the height of the rift and feud between the Magdiwang and
the Magdalo factions, he left the Katipunan and went back to
the peace and quiet of the province. He had lost his inspiration
to fight the Spaniards when he saw some power struggle within
the Katipunan. Soon afterwards he was shaken with the news
about Andres Bonifacio's execution. Meanwhile, with the money he
was able to save, he bought the horse of a "compadre" of his
and a "caretela" as well and started a transportation business.
But the revolution was then spreading like wildfire! Before
my grandpa even left the Katipunan, Gov. Ramon Blanco had already
declared martial law in 8 provinces (including Pampanga) suspected
of instigating a revolt never before seen by the Spaniards during
all their 327 years as rulers of the islands. During most of the year
1897,however, it was relatively quiet in Pampanga except for a few
outbursts here and there, as the people there were not really experiencing
disgust or discontent with the Spanish. But the following year
saw a big change in the hearts of the Pampanguenos who realized
the time had come to bring Spain down. (They had been fighting
with the Spanish in other parts of Heartland, but not in their
own province.) It did not matter anymore if they would be
branded as traitors by Spain who, for centuries, had treated
them with special favors other Indios were not bestowed with.
So, even my grandfather found it fitting to take up arms again,
especially upon learning that many of his "cabalen" in the
Spanish regiment had defected. He cast his horse and his
"caretela" aside and soon was again with the local detachment
of Filipino forces fighting the Spaniards in their province.
What a cinch it was! The Pampanguenos who were really
well-trained in combat (by their former masters) were
victorious in every battle against the Spaniards, taking them
only one month to defeat and drive them away! Just one short
month, my gosh, can anyone ever imagine that? My grandfather
said that at the "glorieta" in his hometown of Lubao,
they celebrated their victory with a big feast, and with
even a "moro-moro" zarzuela in vogue during those days,
and he heard they did the same thing in other towns of the
province. Once more with the liberation of Pampanga from
the Spaniards, it became peaceful and quiet there.
But not for long! Soon my grandfather found himself 
fighting again - for the third time, and this time against the
Americans whose government had purchased the archipelago
from Spain. When Malolos fell and the capital of the
self-proclaimed republic was moved to San Fernando, he
enlisted in Aguinaldo's army. Immediately, he was given the
rank of corporal (cabo) due to his battlefield experience.
He was one of those who engaged the enemies in a skirmish in
Calumpit. After a month, he retreated along with a bunch of
other foot soldiers with Aguinaldo to San Isidro, Nueva Ecija
and then to Tarlac town. Seeing how seemingly futile it was to
fight the powerful American forces who were equipped with better
weapons, he just stayed there and did not move on with the rest
who went up north, disbanded the republic, and started
guerilla warfare in Pangasinan and then in Isabela. He said
he predicted the eventual death, surrender or capture of
Aguinaldo (which became true over a year later when Macabebe
scouts led by Gen. Funston captured him in Palanan). When I
asked him if that was why Macabebes were branded as traitors,
he had a ready answer: "How can they be traitors if they did
not owe loyalty to Aguinaldo? Aguinaldo himself admitted they
were not his own men and did not know them. A traitor is one
who owes you loyalty to begin with and then betrays you. So
there is no treachery involved there. Were I the one instead that
captured him, I would have certainly been a traitor since I used
to be under him and owed him loyalty. If the Macabebe scouts
were ever loyal to someone, it was probably to Andres Bonifacio,
for I've heard that they used to be with the Magdiwang faction.
I've also heard that some had been with the Spanish regiment
and just switched to serving the Americans when the latter
took over. Anyway, his capture can be looked at as a blessing
in disguise for him, because had he not been captured he would
just have died of malaria early in life instead of being alive
even until now. The fact that there was almost no actual fighting
that took place there must have saved his life too. And when
captured, he readily swore allegiance to the Americans."
Regarding the American soldiers, he had nice words for them
who he said could have killed him easily in every encounter
in the battle field. He said many a time he could have been
shot and killed by the Americans whenever he was in the act
of loading his old rifle but was just spared and laughed at!
He headed back to Lubao, his hometown, after that. Around
September 1899. The following year he married my grandmother,
Juana Carlos (1872-1947) whom he had met many town fiestas
ago and who just lived next to the church where they had
the wedding. Handsome as he was, he could have easily become
the playboy type, but he had a strong moral character. (He was
gentle, humble, honest, quiet, and a man of a few words. He
had a sense of humor but was not given to joking or teasing.
Though he indulged in "cuajo", his favorite pasttime, it was
just with his own family. And that is even offset by his flair
for the Bible written in the vernacular and which he knew
forwards and backwards.)
Once again he went back to the job he liked best - that of
being a "cochero" (rig driver), and his route was between
Dinalupihan and Bacolor. His wife, my grandmother, was a
craftsman: she supplemented the family income doing pottery
work, mat-weaving and furniture rattan work. They were blessed
with 5 children (now all deceased), four of whom became
schoolteachers. And oh, yes, I almost forgot. For serving
during the revolution and on recommendation by Aguinaldo,
my grandfather was bequeathed with a letter of appreciation
and received a monthly pension of 15 pesos until his death
in 1954. That was just perhaps 1/10 of the pension his friends
in Macabebe who were U.S. veterans were getting but he was
still proud of it. One time with his pension he even had
my aunt buy me a pair of roller skates for my 14th birthday
- skates that now have gathered dust in the attic of our
ancestral home. Because I was often in his bedroom
especially during the twilight of his life when he could no
longer walk with ease, I was able to know him well -- maybe
even better than his own children did. He would tell me about
that incident when he fell from a tamarind tree while serving
as a look-out because he happened to encounter a ghecko, and
in which he almost broke his limbs. And that incident when,
while running and looking for a strategic position during
a fight with the enemies, he had to shoot a dog that was
running wildly along with him, barking and biting the lower
sleeves of his pants, and thus dividing his attention. And
when while fleeing from the enemies, the back of his shirt
got caught by barbed wires, took him a long time to free
himself and almost got captured! I always thought that maybe
somebody up there liked him, because he was unscathed
during all of his encounters with enemies. A miracle indeed!
And was he ever able to kill any enemy? He said he was able
to hit many, mostly among the Spaniards during encounters
in his province, but as to whether they got killed, he wasn't
so sure.
He was mentally alert too. I remember asking him one time
why for all of what he did as a revolutionist, his name
does not shine like those of Mamerto Natividad of Bacolor,
Francisco Macabulos of Tarlac, Maximino Hizon of Mexico
and Jose Alejandrino of Arayat, and he said, "In war, the
generals always get the glory and the highest credit, and
the soldiers just have to associate themselves with the
name of their leader." I also remember asking him why
he fought the Spaniards and the Americans but did not join
the Huks in fighting the Japanese, to which he said,
"When you are young, you're brave and a derring-do, but
as you get old and I was already in my 70's then, you become
more fearful for your life, and hence, careful."
That was my grandfather, Lucio F. Turla - an unsung hero
so to speak. His memoirs were remarkable. I wish he were
here to tell me more stories about his exploits as a freedom
fighter! Now I am the one instead who is telling the same
stories to my children, and he has become a legend within
the confines of our family.
Andro's Kapampangan Page
http://www-rcf.usc.edu/~camiling/
The Tagalog-Kapampangan Alliance
http://maxpages.com/tarlac
Aguman Medical Mission 2000
http://maxpages.com/mission2
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