Following
is a full, unedited version of Chapter II of Alfonso Fallarme's just
released book on the battle of Sibuyan Sea "Trials to Triumphs"
written in the author's inimitable way.
Saga of the
Sea
Conceived, born,
grew by the sea where waves touch the perimeter of our home when typhoon
hit the town, easily learnt how to swim even before I could walk straight,
fished with steel darts, fishing lines, fish baskets, by nets, sailed
in the harbor, around the island, or to other islands with my trusted
friends, usually piloting the boat by myself, after learning the language
of the seas, the direction of the winds, size of the waves, the current
movements, and the reference points of the topography, and weather
forecast.
I could remain
underwater up to a couple of minutes, dive into the bottom up to five
fathoms, swim freestyle, backstroke, breaststroke and butterfly, even
swim like a fish.
Gaude's Grit
& Gut
The knowledge acquired from actual experience and thru association
with other crews of other vessels when selling goods to other places,
like Batangas, Panay, Mindoro and Marinduque, served me well during
the war years, specially during the guerrilla period. There was a
time when accompanying troops from Tablas to Mindoro during the transfer
of the Manga Bn forces when larger sailboat had to be used, in the
midst of Tablas and Mindoro, the rudder of the boat was accidentally
unhinged from the keel, making the sailboat erratically moved without
direction, that without a prompt decision the boat could have been
drifted out into the Chine Sea. What was memorable of that incident,
the troops were noisily boasting among themselves, spiced with dirty
jokes, the heroic deeds they have done, most of which were made possible
thru sheer bravery and daringness.
Realizing that
dangerous situation, I tactfully challenged any one to plunge into
the raging sea to retrieve the drifting rudder as it drifted farther
from us. Seeing that no one dared, I removed my pants, shirt and undershirts
to recover it myself for I knew what will be the consequence of our
inaction. To my complete amazement, my younger brother, Gaudencio,
a Technical Sergeant at that time, held me by the arm and volunteered
to do the job, all knew that that part of the sea was infested with
man-eating sharks. I shouted: "Are you sure?' Without much ado,
he speedily removed all his clothes dived into the raging sea with
big breaking waves. Confident of his swimming skill and praying that
no sharks were around, in no time he deftly grabbed the floating rudder
and quickly brought it to us to lift it with the help of the astonished
friends. But instead of climbing into the boat, he guided the rudder
with the help of the others, until the rudder was securely hinged
to the upright keel of the boat. Instantly, the pilot steered the
sailboat toward the direction we planned to go, Quinabigan, Mindoro.
With the sailboat
sailing steadily toward our final destination, complete silence among
the troops prevailed until we set anchor on the sandy beach of Quinabigan,
Mindoro, a place nearest our planned CP of the Mango Bn. Later, we
asked my brother, what prompted him to do what he did, " I would
gladly sacrifice myself than lose the leader of the group, my brother,"
to which I have to give him the warmest hug I was capable of, and
the rest of the troops, specially the pilot obligingly shook hands
with my brother, commenting that's nothing and forget it. It was one
of those moments when I was truly proud of him, for he showed his
true color as one who lived by the sea, a saga or not.
Another illuminating
incident where my expertise as a sailor was acidly tested was with
Major Jurado, Capt. Monroy, Capt. Fonte and Lt. Alfonso Morado. Chief
Offshore Service was compelled to take a sailboat to Sibali after
surveying the proposed CP of the moved Mango BN. The sailboat we were
sailing was buffeted by high seas, strong wind and swirling currents,
that the old pilot was noticeably losing his grip of the unexpected
movement of the boat, with sails, rudder and guy ropes almost beyond
the control of the old pilot as the rudder swung from left to right
by virtue of the surging waves which were getting into the vessels.
Realizing our perilous predicament, I asked politely if I could take
over the command of the floundering sailboat. To the astonishment
of everyone, specially Major Jurado and Lt. Morada, after a series
of command addressed to the crew, adjusting the angles of the sails
in relation to the direction of the wind and the position of the boat
as to cut the big waves diagonally, as anticipated the sailboat slowly
moved faster but steadier. Maj. Jurado could not help but comment
that I seemed to know more about manuevering the boat than the Chief
Offshore Service and the pilot. Someone added : "Lt Fallarme
is sure son of the sea". Of course, I was humbled and flattered.
In no time we dropped anchor in the bay of Sibali and slept. After
a good night sleep, they left for Odiongan and I returned to Mindoro
to join the rest of the guerrillas who were with some members of the
Beloncio group.
With the untimely
demise of Maj Jurado when suprisingly ambushed by Lt Fortus with his
platoon of the Maj Ruffy Bn in the dark night during a strong typhoon
that hit the area, the whole Mango Bn now under the Command of Capt
Monroy, I was ordered to take any boat available along the shores
of Bansud to cross to Sibali. The boat commandeered was without sail
and has to be propelled by paddling. The boat could hardly accommodate
us as there were arms, ammos and signal equipments to be loaded. With
seven of my men, we left anchor Bansud beach, as soon it got dark.
Knowing that it would possibly take more than ten hours paddling the
boat, we tried our best to paddle vigorously when a waterspout (bohawe)
hit us forcing us to jump into the sea and pushed up the boat so that
it would not sink, while Capt Monroy remained on board continuously
berating our series of bad luck.
After the waterspout
subsided, we all climbed back into the boat bailing out all the water
completely. Before daybreak, all of us were glad as we entered the
placid bay of Sibali. But shockingly at the distance, we clearly saw
a big enemy vessel anchored in front of the town. Instinctively, we
turned back toward Bidoos as fast as our tired muscles could paddle.
Realizing that the enemy failed to notice us, we anchored at the Sampiro
where on top the Firmalans had evacuated. With traditional Sibali
hospitality, we were allowed to rest after cleaning the weapons. We
stayed there until the Battle of Sibuyan Sea exploded like a movie.
The Firmalan family speedily left after seeing the kind of weapons
and signal equipments being brought in the house.
The Close Encounter with Jap Patrol Boat
Although the following
incident was scantily told in the preceding paragraphs, it deserves
an amplication as it was one of the closest encounters I had with
the enemy. Unmindful of the quickly approaching Japanese patrol boat
at the distance as most of its lights were dimmed and was suddenly
seen when the search light flooded the surrounding area searching
for plying boats as it must have noted that it was the usual route
of the guerrilla boats crossing the sea between Mindoro and Romblon
provinces. Without any hesitation, acquired thru several rehearsals,
we promptly pulled down the detachable mast and sail, tying securely
all our papers and supplies with ropes to a stone sinker just in case
the patrol boat approach us. We were prepared likewise to swim under
the keel of the boat as long as we could hold until they leave. Possibly
noting that the boat appeared a total wreck with its crew eaten by
the sharks as the area was known to be infested with man-eating sharks
, the patrol boat went straight ahead with its search light searching
continuously the surrounding area until we could hardly hear their
voices and see them. Thanking our Guardian Angel and the Eternal Almighty
Father, we made the sign of the cross and climbed into the boat, wet
and shivering but overjoyed. When the patrol boat could no longer
be seen at the distance we raised the mast and the sail tied with
the guy ropes as the teral wind was steadily blowing toward Sibali.
We arrived home when every one was still sleeping.
The following
morning, the first thing we did was to go to church and humbly offered
our prayers of thanks to the Good Lord. We advised everyone never
tell a soul what we encountered for security reason.
The Turning
Point of the War
This epic naval
battle by the two most powerful armadas of the world was spectacularly
seen by us at a very advantageous elevated ground which was almost
treeless, except for a few coco trees, yet I considered it irrelevant
as I was not personally involved. Doubtlessly, this was the turning
point in the naval engagement of the Pacific War as it was where the
much-touted Imperial Navy was decisively defeated. This epochal naval
warfare between two mighty armadas is vividly covered in a three volume
book of Nestor Famatigan, which I request our readers to buy.
What made this
spectacular event worth recalling was the rare and unique privilege
of personally seeing aerial dogfights with some blazing with fires
as they went down to be consumed by the calm sea; or hearing the boom
of big guns from the battleships, cruisers and destroyers. We saw
pilots parachuting after being hit and plunging into the sea, then
struggling to swim to the nearest island, mostly toward Banton. Some
shells dropped near Sibali, creating a whirling hole into the sea.
We were like seeing an outdoor movie. Maneuvering at full speed, the
Imperial Navy had some of its mighty ships sinking down into the sea
in a disorganized formation. They were relentlessly pursued by the
American armada heading south and slowly one by one got lost from
our grandstand position. Before sundown the greatest show I ever saw
was over as darkness blocked our vision, with Capt Monroy bidding
sad farewell bound for Panay.
