Women in the Guerrilla Movement

(Condensed by Renato G. Tibon from the Book Twilight in Misamis – Josefa Borromeo Capistrano’s Guerrilla Days  by Erma M. Cuizon)

FORMATIVE YEARS

“Be calm, do not panic” was the first ominous message Josefa Borromeo Capistrano heard over the radio airwaves from the Voice of America, following America’s declaration of war on Japan. The day before, December 7, 1941, the Japanese had just bombed and crippled the US Pacific Fleet anchored at Pearl Harbor in Hawaii, drawing the United States into World War II.

She and husband Nick (Nicolas Capistrano) were glued to their seats in that morning of December 8, 1941, as the radio voiced the announcement. “This is it,” Nick had said. “Pearl Harbor is an American base. It won’t be long before the Japs will bomb American bases here,” Nick told his wife. No, Pearl Harbor was not very far, Josefa agreed, but it would surely take time for the Japanese to reach Misamis, she reassured herself.

Misamis Occidental, often known simply as Misamis, is a modest landmass situated on the western side of the Zamboanga Peninsula, with its cultural and economic ties strongly oriented towards the island of Cebu in the Visayas region. The Capistrano family emerged as one of the influential families in Misamis, and their house was the biggest in town with the ground floor serving as offices of the Capistrano enterprises. It was in this imposing residence that they first learned of the devastating news regarding the attack on Pearl Harbor. It was in this town that she, together with her adoptive villagers, would prepare to stand firm against the invading forces.

Josefa Padriga Borromeo was born on March 9, 1911, in Bacolod, Negros Occidental, to the youthful Padriga-Borromeo couple; her mother was just 20 years old, while her father, a military lieutenant, was 30. She absorbed the militaristic discipline instilled by her strict and protective father, which hindered her ability to forge friendships with her peers. Her perception of her father’s role during her early years was inextricably linked to his military obligations.

Josefa spent the formative years of her life with a modest family that relocated as frequently as her father’s assignments dictated. She did not face the challenges of adjustment, as her parents cultivated a stable home, insulated from the incessant changes of friendships in the various locales they inhabited.

Originating from Bacolod, Negros Occidental, they subsequently moved to Iloilo, where her father served as the assistant provincial commander to the then-General Rafael Crame, the first Filipino Chief of the Philippine Constabulary.

In 1915, Josefa and her parents returned to Cebu, where they unearthed the young girl’s prodigious talent for dance. Her parents, themselves lovers of the arts, encouraged their daughter to enjoy her gift, allowing her to perform at the behest of various organizers, including benefit performances aimed at raising funds for charitable endeavors.

As a teenager, Josefa resided in Manila, where her father was appointed Chief of the Customs Secret Service. She pursued academic credits in Economics, Philosophy, and Letters at the University of the Philippines, and in whatever fields she exhibited a proclivity, she received unwavering support from her appreciative parents.

One field in which she demonstrated an ardent passion was competitive gallery shooting. With her parents’ tacit approval, she enlisted in the UP Women’s Rifle and Pistol team, and before long, she became captain. She liked the scent of gunpowder and honed her craft with an unwavering commitment to excellence, achieving an impressive skill rating of 95 to 98 percent, marking her as a sharpshooter within the team. These rigorous preparations would prove fortuitous during the tumultuous war years.

The summer months were a cherished time for the young Josefa, culminating in the vibrant carnival festivities that the youth of her era eagerly anticipated for communal gatherings. Her social engagements flourished when, at the age of twenty, her family made a permanent relocation to Cebu.

With her father’s retirement, he re-entered the local business milieu, further enriching their community ties. Josefa’s social life evolved into a civic endeavor, wherein she provided cultural services to various organizations. These civic and social undertakings equipped her with the essential skills for organizing groups, particularly among women.

She met Nicolas Capistrano aboard an interisland vessel bound for Manila. Introduced by mutual acquaintances, they shortly engaged in a discussion about their personal passions. Nicolas Capistrano harbored aspirations of a career at the United States Naval Academy. An engineer by profession, he never envisioned that, upon the onset of the war, he would collaborate intimately with Col. Wendell Fertig, who was then the acknowledged commander of the guerrilla forces in the 10th Military District of Mindanao.

Although their paths did not converge during their graduation at the University of the Philippines, Nick began to court Josefa following their encounter on the boat, a meeting Nick later confessed, was facilitated by a mutual friend, Emmanuel Pelaez. Nick’s father, Judge Capistrano, became aware of his son’s romantic interest in Josefa Borromeo. Determined to prevent him from pursuing naval training at Annapolis, he took the initiative to meet Josefa’s family in Cebu and orchestrated their betrothal. Josefa was surprised, as they had not yet entertained any serious plans; however, firmly aware of her affections for Nick, she resolved that this was of paramount importance. Consequently, the conversation between their parents irrevocably sealed the fate of the young couple.

They were married on January 26, 1935 at the Cebu Cathedral, with big enough crowd of guests  which caused traffic jam while on their way to the church. Josefa’s mother was inconsolable when it became certain that the newlyweds would live in Mindanao. Her mother’s grief over the separation would cause her health to fail, and at the age of 44, she died of the heartache. 

The Japanese launched offensive raids in 1941, targeting Hawaii and assaulting American installations, including those in the Philippines. On January 2 of the following year, the Japanese forces occupied Manila, led by the infamous strategist Lt. Gen. Masaharu Homma. While devastation unfolded thousands of miles away, the residents of Misamis contemplated their next moves, caught between the desire for safety and uncertainty about their destination. The town was eerily quiet; the war felt distant, yet fear permeated the atmosphere. A week after the onset of the conflict, Nick resolved to take action, apprehensive that their home might be commandeered by the Japanese as a headquarters or temporary station. Unsure of their ultimate destination, they began to hurriedly pack their belongings, gathering all that they could carry, with Josefa overseeing the preparations despite Nick’s initial hesitance.

Almost everyone relocated concurrently with the Capistranos, but upon realizing that the Japanese forces were still considerably distant, they returned after a few weeks. The Capistranos also reestablished their presence in town, although they opted to reside on the outskirts in the initial safehouse that Nick had hastily constructed at Sitio Catadman, near the beach. The ensuing months constituted a prolonged wait for Misamisnons as they remained on high alert for the impending arrival of the enemy.

The Japanese high command intensified its operations, struggling to bolster their forces against the United States Army Forces in the Far East (USAFFE) in Bataan and finally, in Corregidor. General Douglas MacArthur, on orders of the US President Franklin D. Roosevelt, left the Philippines on March 17 as commanding general of the USAFFE, and went to Australia to become overall Far East Commander. From Australia, he sent the historical message to the Filipino people, “I came through and I shall return.” Brig. General Jonathan Wainwright, designated as commander in lieu of Gen. MacArthur, announced USAFFE’s surrender to the Japanese forces on May 6. Maj. Gen. William Sharp, head of the forces in Mindanao, got the message.

General MacArthur then urged the USAFFE forces to form guerrilla units all over the country, which instructions General Sharp received later than the Wainwright order to surrender. The latter feared more soldiers would be killed for refusing to give in. Yet of the 16,000 USAFFE men, Sharp was able to bring only a few soldiers to surrender while those who refused ran to the hills and formed guerrilla units, or joined with the locals who banded together to harass the enemy from the rear.

As Nick received instructions to do military missions, he feared for the safety of his family. He convinced Josefa to go back to Cebu in the safety of the Borromeo family. Josefa’s father was overjoyed to see her and the two children but seeing the propriety of the wife being at her husband’s side, he decided to send her back to Mindanao confident that his brave daughter would survive the war.

A NASCENT LEADER

And thus it was in an otherwise beautiful Sunday morning of March 1, 1942 when the Japanese came and set off a volley of shells from Panguil Bay, blowing up warehouses and some local boats docked at the pier. Josefa was with churchgoers at the first bombing. They screamed their way out and were gone in haste, but she chose to stay and finished the liturgical service. Then she ran out, went home and boarded the truck with the children and belongings and several hands, unsure where to go. She opted for Tangub, travelling past a wave of evacuees who were likewise on the exodus, moving on foot, astride horses or carabaos, or carts and sleds, and on all kinds of vehicles. Misamis, a sitting duck for enemy shells, quickly became a ghost town.

At the intersection of Pulao, they left the truck and continued on foot. She and the evacuees turned to the hills, moving without resting, fearing the Japanese were in hot pursuit. After several hours, Josefa found a place for her family  up the mountains far enough heeding her husband’s advice to keep the children from danger.

As providence would have it, she met a man with some skill in horse riding, named Estioko, who encouraged her to buy horses to enable her to move around the evacuation areas. He proved to be handy in choosing the right horses for her use. With the horses, Josefa could move around the hills more freely enabling her to relate more closely with Misamisnons. In her visits to places shelled by the Japanese, she saw a ghost town. Most of the village people had abandoned Misamis coastal areas which remained depopulated during the war years. At times, Japanese ships were seen docking at the pier.

Once, a Japanese captain summoned her through emissaries who were acquainted with her family. The officer learned about her from a picture the family had left behind in the old Capistrano house. When she came, she was told to bake a cake which the officer demanded right upon her arrival. Josefa reasoned it was getting dark and her children were waiting, so she couldn’t do it. She promised to come back the next day, overwhelmed by her good fortune that the Japanese would believe and trust her return. She galloped back in the dark and upon reaching her place, she lost no time as she packed up, gathered the children and left the area.

When Nick came back, he told her about his work with Colonel Wendell Fertig, organizing squabbling guerrilla units in Western Mindanao. The guerrilla movement had been initiated by Captain Luis Morgan but other units likewise wanted recognition which Colonel Fertig saw fit to unite under his command, later identified as the 10^th Military District. General Douglas MacArthur, as commanding officer, directed the forces from Australia, stressing the importance of the resistance movement in Mindanao, the only open door to Australia not yet saturated with enemy soldiers.

Nick took his wife on mission sorties, travelling on horseback along well-beaten trails away from the main road. Josefa got her first experience of rugged travel out of the town of Misamis, but as Nick’s work took him longer days, she stayed home more often, and thought about how she could be more useful to the movement. She had heard of guerrilleros, foot soldiers, and angry patriots in small batches who moved on their own to avenge death of their family and violation of their women. Later they joined the guerrilla movement initiated by USAFFE officers, realizing they needed training to be more effective. At the early stage, they continued to farm during daytime and did patriotic missions at night. As the work took them far from home, they stayed at civilian homes which gave them shelter and food. With USAFFE men leading them, the guerrillas ambushed the enemy, conducted raids of Japanese stations, garrisons, and unit installations.

Josefa learned about their difficulties as the fighters struggled keeping themselves alive, while serving with no pay except the script money which the US government promised to honor and pay holders in “due course of time.” Lack of money to buy food or medicines were just one of the movement’s problems, as they were not big enough in number, often disorganized, and could not take care of their wounded while fighting.

Upon moving to Manabay (Misamis), Josefa stayed with the Chabon family where she met Paz Chabon (Soler) who later became her alter ego in the resistance. It was at this time when Colonel Fertig established the first headquarters of the 10^th Military District Command in Misamis, and where he reorganized and firmed up the guerrilla movement in Mindanao.

After another bombing attack across Misamis by Japanese airplanes, Josefa realized how unprotected any place could be in the face of the enemy’s superior power. But the experience became memorable to Josefa as she witnessed Colonel Fertig’s first contact between Mindanao and Australia through the radio, giving hope to the guerrillas in the country.

Other contacts were likewise made such as through a home-made telegraph set up powered by dynamo and bicycle parts. The power these contraptions held spelled the difference between defeat and victory, thought Josefa.

Still an outsider, she watched in silence as Col. Fertig and the boys made contact, keenly focused on the messages they received, and talking until late in the night. The scene was sufficiently eloquent to persuade Josefa to immerse herself more profoundly in the resistance. She adopted a transformed persona, embodying a blend of silk and steel; her milky Chinese complexion, delicate contours of her face, and petite, tender frame belied the fire and strength simmering within.

THE WOMEN RECRUITS

Paz Chabon became Josefa’s aide-de-camp. At merely 16 years of age when the war erupted, her education was abruptly disrupted as news of the conflict reached them in December 1941. Her family relocated to Carangan, a mere two kilometers from the town center, where she encountered the Capistranos. It was here that Josefa returned following the incident with the Japanese captain. She began to lay the groundwork to help the resistance efforts while Paz quietly observed her. One evening, as Josefa diligently inscribed her thoughts into a notebook, she became aware of Paz still awake, intently watching her. She confided in Paz about her endeavors, detailing her communications with guerrilla fighters and inquiring how she might contribute. Given the disparate locations of the guerrilla stations, she composed letters to inform them of her intentions to help. She encouraged Paz to assume responsibility for their “office,” while she managed the distribution of the funds and medical supplies she received as donations from the civilian populace.

Josefa descended from the mountains with greater frequency when Paz finally joined her on her daily excursions. They began to seek out women, initially recruiting the community’s civic leaders. However, Josefa’s idea was met with greater enthusiasm by the ordinary women, whose lives few had previously acknowledged. Although these women had families to care for, they recognized their capacity to contribute to the resistance movement. Josefa herself exemplified this commitment; as a mother of two young children, she managed to dedicate time to the cause. This was likely due to her husband’s involvement in the movement as well. The same was true for many other women, whose husbands and family members were deeply entrenched in the struggle. A gutsy woman, Josefa moved around the villages not only to help the resistance but also to procure food for her family. Market stalls stood in makeshift clusters on Saturdays and Sundays except when the Japanese were in town and disappeared until the coast was clear. In these trips, Josefa also listened for information which she could pass to the guerrillas.

Josefa initiated efforts in the women’s resistance, uniting those who acknowledged the need for everybody to show patriotism. The women saw the fundamental challenges confronting the guerrillas and recognized ways in which they could provide meaningful aid, such as acquiring clothing for the soldiers or doing laundry services. At the outset of her mission, Josefa had a mere handful of women alongside her, all committed to “keeping house” for the fighters. This involved the preparation of meals, the gathering of supplies, and the collection of meat, eggs, and other provisions generously contributed by kind-hearted individuals from the barrios. Initially, Josefa was unfamiliar with the hardy women she recruited – they were teachers or small traders which she thought were not used to working long hours. They used to work independently and had quality time with their families. And neither were they farm women working close to the earth, nor exposed to danger from enemies. They had no experience making great decisions in their life, while in guerrilla work, a single decision could mean life or death. In their shared mission, Josefa recognized the valor and capabilities of women destined to lead lives of simplicity and labor. In fact, she developed the capacity to make decisions founded on their extraordinary reserve of boldness and resourcefulness wielded against the enemy.

 While directing chores and assignments, Josefa became more like a teacher to the grateful women, sharing and giving them everything she knew and had learned. Josefa imparted not just skills but good working habits, creativity, doing things meticulously and well, showing her good breeding and intelligence. When she moved to another safehouse, a few other women went with her. The women learned to look for sources of food and medicines, taking them to far villages, risking discovery by spies. They constantly moved especially when forewarned by the guerrillas where the next military campaign would be, and when. With messages hidden in codes, information on skirmishes were sent to Josefa, such that during actual fights, the women were never far behind, giving food to soldiers or pulling out the wounded.

When the Japanese were not in town, the women still worked, holding work sessions late into the night. They gathered kapok and made them into cotton for the medical corps; some cut kamesitas and turned them into bandages while others procured clean old mosquito nets, cut them into small sizes and sterilized them to serve as gauze. They mended old clothes of soldiers, sewed shoes made of indigenous fibers, or made clothes out of abaca called sinamay or pinukpok. They fashioned hand-made shoes using braised thick abaca and guinit from coconut trees. They were not durable but as there were plentiful materials and available hands that made them, they could always be had and served a purpose. The guerrillas used to walk around barefoot or sported worn-out shoes that hampered movements as they roamed around. They had to move quickly; a single tardy shift of position meant death.

The women likewise made enough cereal from corn ready for use in case close encounters would prevent them in preparing more. Josefa started a system of food provision set up in hideouts and safehouses as guerrillas and women moved around often. She ordered the women to make small sacks where the foodstuffs such as root crops, rice or corn in the right quantity were put, portable enough to carry in case they have to abandon the place. The horses were put to good use as Josefa expanded her recruitment efforts. Women soon learned how to ride the horses which gave them the advantage over the enemy who would hardly dare to go deep into the interiors. This ability enabled Josefa to organize more groups of women in the resistance outside the town, in most of Misamis Occidental, parts of Zamboanga del Sur, and Lanao del Norte. In other areas, she sent women officers and organized volunteer groups. As an organizer, Josefa had the advantage of being a religious lay leader, and because of the social position of her husband’s family, she had the capacity to tap resources needed by the guerrillas. Though she possessed the charisma, Josefa made the brave decision to rid herself of social norms, and worked hard as everybody else to help the resistance fighters.

THE EMERGENCE OF THE WOMEN AUXILIARY SERVICE (WAS)

In the waning days of 1942 and the beginning of 1943, the women expressed concerns having seen evident signs of fatigue and dwindling morale among the guerrilla fighters. The long-anticipated return of General MacArthur was still beyond reach, and both ammunition and hope were rapidly depleting. War-weary soldiers were prone to embracing the Japanese propaganda that proclaimed Asia was destined for Asians; that the Americans had no place in Asia, a notion to which they were particularly susceptible. Exhausted and beleaguered, many bore wounds, some dying, while others had succumbed. The propaganda seemed to be working as Josefa heard talks in the market place about the Japanese winning in many places, causing more distress to the fearful villagers. Josefa felt an overwhelming anger at the prospect of the enemy winning the psychological warfare, undermining the very foundations that the guerrillas had painstakingly established and endured. Yet, she found herself powerless against the insidious propaganda, as she lacked access to the pertinent information. With a heavy heart, she kept her worries to herself as the women didn’t deserve knowing the anxiety affecting her. Thus, she made a pact with herself to transcend her emotions; to survive the war and help others survive it.

The following day, she conferred with Colonel Fertig, who validated the soldiers’ pervasive disillusionment, worsened by their exhaustion and the alarming shortage of ammunition. It was a sensitive topic for Fertig, who, despite appearing somber and profoundly affected by the circumstances, maintained an optimistic outlook that conditions would improve once the Americans arrived. Josefa insisted that the boys would feel better if they knew when the Americans come, to which Fertig had no answer. But he recognized the women’s help and told Josefa, who was excited at the prospect, to unite the women’s groups, to convince them of General MacArthur’s return, and to sign up more recruits. The order from Fertig could not have provided Josefa with a more fortuitous boost that she so desperately needed.

When the inaugural group of women officially enlisted in the Women’s Auxiliary Service (WAS) on February 1, 1943, few anticipated the profound historical impact of that seemingly unremarkable gathering in Barrio Maningcol, Misamis. The group initially comprising less than ten volunteers became the nucleus of the women’s movement, and on May 18, Josefa, with 23 other women present approved WAS’ constitution and bylaws. She set up one WAS unit in every town, which Colonel Fertig officially attached to a guerrilla infantry of the 10^th Military District under his command.

The women’s service came under the operations of the 106^th Inf Reg, 105^th Division under Major Lucas Naranjo, with headquarters and a WAS battalion in each of the towns of Misamis, Oroquieta, and Tangub. She likewise set up three battalions in Dipolog and Dapitan in Zamboanga. The first WAS members took leadership roles. The names in Josefa’s old roster included (with initials of first names): E. Neri, E. Eviota, C. Sitchon, M. Encarnacion, R. Manlegro, and A. Andres. Among the younger group were Josefa’s aides-de-camp, Gloria Neri, and Paz Chabon. The older members were J. Dooloso, E. Cagampan, L. Abelardo, F. Ledesma, J. Sarenas, F. Valdehueza, J. Navarro. The others included G. Hynson, C. Lumen, R. Bernad, J. Padilla, C. Lachica, T. Abarcaz, and L. Cebedo.

There were less confrontations at the time, and men could go on missions and withdraw to their homes in between assignments. The Japanese came only in quick trips, foraged for food, taking care to use main roads and avoid dangerous byways where guerrillas lurked. At times, the people let their guard down as when Josefa, alone in Tangub market seeking information, was unable to move away when Japanese soldiers came. A soldier who walked towards her had mistaken her for a Japanese due to her complexion, size and face, but seeing she could not understand a word he was saying, he walked away embarrassed, muttering something which Josefa liked to think was an apology. Slowly, she moved away taking care not to attract attention, and hastily fled from the place with her horse.

The women cooked food in their houses, the volume of food initially being good for only one meal. The group later acquired root crops, chickens, rice and corn, and each woman cooked food she got from her vicinity. The day’s ration for the fighters was heavily cereal prepared in different ways. Sometimes there was pintos, fresh corn snack baked in coconut oil and sugar cane syrup and wrapped in coconut leaves; homemade candies and preserved fruit as energy-building food, and on lucky days, the ration was meat with chopped coconuts. They also hunted for monkeys, which aside from meat, sliced and dried as kasahus, also provided skin made into soldiers’ pouches. The WAS women gathered old clothes given by civilians, supported by local boys who would later form the Bolo Battalion. They carried sharp knives or bolos as protection, cut trees as roadblocks to impede enemy movement, and served to carry the wounded from battle fields to makeshift military hospitals. They enabled the WAS to move bigger volume of foodstuffs which they otherwise could not carry, and acted as couriers for the guerrillas in some areas.

The campaign to reclaim the faith of guerrillas and volunteers in the anticipated arrival of American forces, and the prospect of victory was a formidable challenge for the women of the WAS. The Japanese propaganda seemed to win allegiances, but the message of hope carried by WAS slowly eroded the effectiveness of the disinformation. Josefa joined doing the rounds at market places where she was certain no spies were around, talking publicly about the coming of the American liberators. They disseminated the message through speech, and literary-musical programs, dancing, singing or acting in skits, short breaks which allowed the women and guerrilla fighters to engage in romantic liaisons. Life for them went on despite the war, the miracles the spirit worked out, whether hurting from a skirmish or wounded by the demise of a soldier, did not stop happening.

At age 14, Gloria Neri, Josefa’s junior aide-de-camp, was the youngest of the group, but while others her age were doing minimal work, she was predisposed to guerrilla life, with her mother and siblings likewise involved. She found meaning even in insignificant events with Josefa and the women. She learned to ride a horse from her leader, who taught her the skill and the rudiments of graceful riding. Josefa earned the girl’s respect as the latter saw her keeping her form and composure even in worse times. In Gloria’s eyes and of the women who came from the countryside, the city-bred Josefa was the epitome of creativity and gracefulness almost at any time, against the backdrop of rugged living in the evacuation areas. 

But there were moments of weakness which Gloria saw in her leader. While everyone was treating and preparing the wounded for transport to hospitals by the Bolo boys, Gloria watched the unraveling of a soft spot in her leader’s demeanor when she came across a dead body. Gloria saw her go down and squat before the body, make the sign of the cross, and pray silently with eyes closed, her body slightly rocking. After they had gone home, Josefa had her feet massaged while Gloria was content watching the night scene, until she fell asleep. She woke up in the middle of the night to see Josefa in a corner of the room. When queried about not being asleep yet, Josefa intimated her being upset by the dead soldier she doesn’t even know. When Gloria further asked if knowing the soldier’s name mattered to her, Josefa answered, “Gloria, everyone’s death matters. Sometimes, after you’re gone, you have nothing left but your name…” 

Josefa kept changing safehouses while expanding the WAS network. The Japanese were alarmed about the numerical strength of the guerrillas, but Josefa moved around to continue organizing the women, growing confident as she made her own decisions without Nick. Trusting in her own abilities and feeling a profound sense of pride in the courageous women collaborating with her, the group’s membership soared to an impressive hundred. Despite her work, she never forgot keeping her children safe while Nick was out. Straddling a horse alongside her children, she reached areas which had no pathways, closed off by thickets, forcing her to find openings and routes which her weary horse could barely navigate. The horse Admiral has repeatedly demonstrated her worthiness, particularly in one instance when she deftly cleared a precarious, decaying bridge that nearly resulted in injury for both herself and the children.

Nick built nipa houses the women referred to as “command posts,” some difficult to reach for their safety, as reports indicated the Japanese were looking for her and the group. Her last hideout in Tipan, was where WAS activities were directed until the liberation of Misamis. Even as she was settled in the place, Nick told Josefa he was now joining the guerrillas under Colonel Fertig for the rest of the war. The couple parted with a heavy heart knowing they might not see each other again. But the separation only fortified Josefa’s emotional resilience, enabling her to navigate her personal crisis with grace, as she harnessed the experience to reaffirm what she had always recognized about women resistance workers: they possessed the remarkable capacity to endure stress and adversity.

The Japanese arrived in Misamis town on June 26, 1943, almost without resistance from the guerrillas. They landed in Tudela and split the troops, one taking Oroquieta and the other Misamis at the south. The Japanese were fired on by guerrillas alerted to their presence in Clarin, but due to the enemy’s superior numbers and firepower, the guerrillas retreated with heavy casualties, forcing them to withdraw to the interior villages with low morale, mourning the death of forty of their comrades. The enemy garrisoned the town, staying in houses surrounding the historic stone fort which they used as headquarters.

General MacArthur ordered a spirited undercover work to secure the maximum amount of information, spurred by the presence of the Japanese right in town. When he first got in touch with Colonel Fertig, MacArthur stressed the importance of precise, accurate, and detailed intelligence work to enable his forces in Australia to take the best moves once he decide to return to the Philippines.

In skirmishes between the guerrilla and the Japanese troops, the WAS women were not far behind the fighters. Among the memorable encounters was the raid of the Japanese outpost under Major Naranjo which left two guerrillas and twenty of the Japanese killed. Although they succeeded in killing a  number of the enemy, the American and Filipino guerrillas knew it would take more than what ammunition they had to dislodge the enemy. The fight usually lasting less than two hours would end up in their retreat. Moving to safer ground, the WAS would give first-aid ministrations before the Bolo Battalion boys moved them to the hospital. The women, short in nursing skills, could only offer sympathy by their mere presence and loving touch. They proved useful though in getting information the local regiments could use.

With the WAS integrated into the 106th Regiment, Major Naranjo adeptly employed the women to gather intelligence, as they occupied a unique position that allowed them to seamlessly mingle with the crowd, remaining the least suspected of such activities. Several of the women who gathered food and medicine doubled as spies for the resistance. Passwords were liberally used in transmitting information, pre-arranged between informants in a relay system. Ingenious methods were used in their intelligence work such as when women carried information while selling vegetables; in one case, the message in a piece of rolled paper was inserted in the hollow of a big kangkong stem. Some women were found to be creative in the system of intelligence work, collecting useful information while seemingly lost in the market chatter. Josefa trained them to be sensitive to conversation overheard among the crowd, even to possible messages in hand signals and body language.

The WAS workers’ success depended often on the skills they interfaced with the people, and shifted to ordinary housewives’ role when in danger. One such incident happened to Teodora Ochate. She was caught with a stock of medicines, but alert to the danger of being found out, she grabbed her infant child and the bigger one, and explained to the Japanese soldier they were for her sick children. Though flimsy, the women would use any alibi, to deliver them from sticky situations, and Ochate was fortunate to have been accosted by a simpleton soldier who left her after confiscating the medicines. Though barely able to save her life and her children, she knew she had to start collecting again.

Josefa had also taught them strength of purpose even in the face of failures. Another incident involved Trinidad Montero (Peña). She and her family had fled to the barrio of Bagakay, the former site of the Philippine government’s military cadre training in the province. When the Japanese came and occupied the village, the populace fled to the hills to hide. Trinidad and her family ran to an interior barrio called Kainuman Norte to where the guerrillas retreated. Her proximity to the guerrillas marked her for WAS work, and in no time she was recruited. Her skill as a dressmaker proved invaluable for mending the guerrillas’ clothes, while concurrently assisting in the procurement of food for the fighters. She was with some women one late afternoon when a group of Japanese soldiers crossed their path. They were on their way to a safehouse with bags of solicited meat and vegetables. Her companions fled leaving Trinidad with the stuff. When the soldiers asked about the foodstuff, Trinidad replied they were for sale, and after giving them some pieces of pork, she nonchalantly bundled everything and walked away. Thankfully, no one followed her.

In October, Josefa and the WAS women joined the guerrillas in a planned attack on the Japanese outpost holed up inside the Misamis Institute building. As the guerrillas prepared to attack, the women positioned themselves just behind the men, far enough for safety and near enough to help when needed. As a Japanese sniper hit a soldier, this opened the arena to bursts of fire from both sides. The women rushed to where the wounded men had fallen or had difficulty of climbing down the fence in their get-away, and helped the soldiers who came out of the back building carrying rifles and ammunitions taken from the Japanese storerooms. The soldier, who had previously sustained an injury to his ankle, was once again struck—this time fatally. As Josefa pronounced him dead, a surge of emotion threatened to break her composure. Her message swiftly reached the soldiers who were ordered to retreat.

In September 1944, talk about MacArthur’s return was rife among the guerrillas. The American submarines had started coming with ammunitions and other supplies, and hope of the return and the thought of peace buoyed up the spirit of the local boys. To Paz Chabon, it would be a dream soon within reach. She was discussing the matter with her nephew, both hopeful of the Americans’ return in areas where there are not many Japanese, either in Visayas or Davao. Josefa later informed the women of Major Naranjo’s serious injuries during two encounters which would take him to a military hospital in New Guinea. They would be closely working with Major Marcelo Bonilla who took over from him. The news was like a cold sheet thrown over the women, each nursing their concern over their compatriot, and broken only by Josefa who asked them what people are saying about MacArthur’s return. Their faces lighted up as they talked at the same time, too happy to be in a serious mood, and though no official word had yet reached them, they were hopeful the Americans could come soonest. The men were ready, but what would the WAS do on their part?  Josefa reminded them, with compassion, that there’s still work to do as soon as skirmishes after the American bombings came.                               

As the battle to liberate the Filipinos went underway, instructions were given for the guerrillas to stay away from the Americans’ bomb targets, and the WAS instrumental in relaying them to everyone in the sitios. Josefa and the women told the people not to form large groups or they would be mistaken from the air as the enemy. As effective as the air raids was the American propaganda of eventual return, a promise nearing fulfillment, which brought hope and healing to a people tired of three years of war. The message was printed in cigarette packs, candy and chocolate wrappers, and other “good cheer” items sent in to the country through the submarines.

THE RETURN

On October 18, planes with US emblems were droning overhead Josefa’s safehouse in Tipan. As soon as they came, the horse trainer Estioko and a houseboy began jumping up and down, hysterical in their joy, counting in perfect unison the number of passing planes. As the count reached ten, Josefa knelt, tears came down her cheeks, strangely not out of joy but of loneliness pent-up inside her and now given vent. As the eighteenth and last plane was announced, Josefa rode her horse to gather the women.

The much awaited landing of General MacArthur in Leyte came on October 20, 1944, and word of mouth carried his message to Mindanao: “We promised to return, we have returned,” he said. “We shall restore the stolen land and looted wealth to their rightful owners. We shall strangle the black dragon of Japanese militarism forever.” The message filled the air, as it brought Christmas to the islands in October. Submarines surfaced in Zamboanga waters, and unloaded arms, medical supplies, PX canned goods, magazines, cigarettes and candy bars with the printed message, “MacArthur is back. Merry Christmas.” After years of want, Filipinos found uses for everything that arrived. The WAS made use of large sailor pants, and sewed shoes out of canvas materials.

In November, Major Bonilla of the 106^th Regiment began their attack to recapture Misamis and the cotta. With renewed confidence, they shelled the town and successfully drove the Japanese out of Misamis poblacion. The last ones decided to retreat inside the fortress which proved impregnable that the guerrillas had to wait out until American planes bombed the cotta that set the garrison on fire. Those who tried to get away were chased and shot. Next day, they entered the fort using bamboo ladders.

Josefa and the women entered the Misamis poblacion, and though she felt a quiet joy, what she saw was a scarred, ghost town she once knew as home. There were no Japanese except those who were captured, the wounded among them given medicines or operated on at the military hospital. As she viewed the scene before her, of a Japanese soldier’s rotting right leg sawed off without anesthesia, she was reminded of the savage courage of  those who faced tremendous physical pain, suffering in the war at a time when they should have gone to school dances or a-courting. Somehow, she felt compassion for the enemy who she knew, were also fighting for the glory of their country. On the way to the fort, she reminded the women to be careful and watch out for live mines buried just outside the walls. Inside the garrison with some guerrilla officers, she saw dead Japanese soldiers everywhere. She knew that not all of them were killed by bullets as some Japanese committed suicide, preferring to die honorably by their own hands than face defeat or despair.

The recapture of the town happened two months before intensified bombings were made against Japanese shipping and shore facilities. It would be more months in 1945 when the Americans actually landed in Mindanao through the beach in Zamboanga. But with the recapture of Misamis, Josefa knew the liberation was as good as done.

EPILOGUE

Josefa Borromeo Capistrano received a citation in 1946 for her support to the resistance movement and the Philippine Army in Mindanao. President Sergio Osmeña, Jr. awarded her the Military Merit Medal in 1949, making her the first Filipino woman to receive it. She could have been a Colonel if she served in the Philippine Army instead of as a guerrilla officer. Some women in Luzon were rewarded despite contributing less than Josefa. Colonel Fertig described her husband as one who gets things done and “where Nick ends, Josefa begins.”

In 1951, Josefa became the spokesman for the stevedores’ cause and organized the Misamis City Labor Union. She studied business administration in Madrid and labor administration at Columbia University. She was recognized as the “Woman Labor Leader of the Year” and received several awards for her work.

Josefa was instrumental in passing the Women’s Auxiliary Corps law in 1963 which created the Women’s Auxiliary Corps of the AFP. She also lobbied for the Women’s Training Corps, which later became the Women’s Auxiliary Training Corps (WATC), an elective course in schools. She was honored as a Philippine Roll of Women Patriot.

During the Christian-Muslim conflict in 1971, Josefa mobilized her women to help casualties and evacuees. She received awards for her humanitarian work, and continued to support the WAS cause even in her later years. Josefa passed away at 93 in 2004, leaving behind her husband and two children.

SOURCES:

Baclagon, Col. Uldarico, S. 1965. Philippine Resistance Movement Against Japan, 10 December 1941-14 June 1945. Munoz Press: Manila

Dionson, Remegia T. “The Arrival of the Japanese Imperial Forces in Misamis” and “Misamis under the Japanese Government,” masteral thesis in 1982 printed in the Northwestern Mindanao Research Journal

Keats, John, 1963. They Fought Alone. Philadelphia Lippincott.

The Blue Ribbon News, 1960

Modern Philippines, 1961

The Asian Veteran, 1966

Workmen’s Bulletin, 1971

Women’s Auxiliary Service (WAS) souvenir magazine, 1972 and 1979

Non-print:

Affidavits, Minutes of Meetings, Other Documents

Interviews with Mrs. Capistrano and WAS members Gloria Neri-Lim, Paz Soler Chabon, Carmen Moreno, Teodora Ochate, Trinidad Montero-Peña