Chapter 1: Micah's Diary
When the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor in Hawaii, it marked the beginning of the Second World War. It wasn’t just America or China drawn into the terrifying conflict— the Philippines, too, was caught in the chaos.
Twenty-five twin-engine planes dropped bombs over the towns of Tuguegarao and Baguio, leaving the two cities drowning in tears, fear, and death.
However, nothing could compare to the hell unleashed on the capital city of the Philippines. On January 2, the Japanese invaded Manila. They destroyed infrastructure, including schools, churches, and Spanish-era architectural legacies.
Micah vividly remembered the brutality inflicted upon Filipino civilians. The women, regardless of age—even the elderly—were not spared. Their acts were more heinous than anything imaginable.
They tossed Filipino infants into the air and impaled them on their bayonets. Decapitated heads littered the asphalt, half-naked bodies of women lay lifeless, and crying children sat amidst the bodies of their families.
Micah could still picture those horrifying images in her mind…
The Imperial Japanese forces were nothing short of sadistic. They didn’t just kill civilians—they tortured them. One of their methods was skewering people through their thighs with bamboo stakes, as if they were roasting meat. They would then plant the stakes upright in the ground, leaving the victims to slowly slide down and die in excruciating pain.
Perhaps, when there is no God—or when one’s God is different—morality is lost.
She had managed to save one young girl, but the child had witnessed her mother’s rape and murder. She could not save the girl from the trauma. She remembered her name was Lucita, and she was now safe with her grandparents.
She sighed as she recorded these events in her journal, then she paused, overwhelmed by a sharp pain in her chest.
She was now in the resting quarters, lost in thought, as she endured the darkness of the night, with only a nearly burnt-out candle providing light. Her fellow soldiers slept soundly on the bunk beds behind her.
Micah was on duty, tasked with watching over them. If someone had a nightmare, she could wake them. Or, if something terrible happened, she could quickly alert her comrades.
But when she was alone like this, she couldn’t help but recall the grim past. They were still in the middle of the war, and crying or sulking wouldn’t help—especially since they all felt like they were the last hope for the country.
The American and Filipino soldiers in Bataan had already surrendered.
Cebu had fallen.
Panay had also been conquered.
And just last year, through a radio broadcast, Gen. Wainwright announced that he had also surrendered. Shortly after, Gen. Sharp also declared the surrender of the Visayas and Mindanao.
Micah slammed her fist on the table in frustration.
“They’re not Filipinos—that’s why they surrendered the Philippines so easily!” she muttered angrily.
She glanced over when someone groaned and shifted on their bed, worried her raised voice had woken one of her comrades, but it seemed she hadn’t disturbed anyone.
Her gaze softened as she looked at her fellow soldiers. Most of them were so young—the oldest was nineteen, and the youngest, just sixteen. Even the youth were gambling their lives for their home country.
Here, in the underground safe house, they were relatively safe and could sleep soundly. But they couldn’t stay here any longer.
They also had to ensure the family who provided them shelter wouldn’t be implicated. To avoid detection, they needed to keep moving from one location to another.
Micah rested her head in her hands, burdened by the weight of her worries.
She also remembered her sister, who was currently staying at a nearby hotel. Her sister served as a “comfort woman” for the Japanese while secretly acting as a spy and informant for the guerrillas. Meanwhile, her mother was in Intramuros, also a clandestine member of the Hukbalahap.
Far from her family, Micah was now in Antipolo, a member of the Hunters. She had concealed her true identity, age, and gender to join the Hunters ROTC, one of the 277 guerrilla groups formed in the country.
The Hunters ROTC was established after the Philippine Military Academy disbanded, as three cadets refused to go home and do nothing. However, because of their youth, they were not allowed to join the USAFFE.
Miguel Z. Ver was the first to lead the group and recruited various individuals eager to join the Philippine Resistance Movement. These recruits included ordinary townsfolk and college students.
This provided Micah the opportunity to join the guerrilla forces. However, she had heard that women were often relegated to providing medical assistance as nurses. She didn’t want that. She wanted to fight, so she disguised herself as a man.
Still, it seemed her decision might have been a mistake. What would she do if they discovered her secret?
Fortunately, the recruitment process was quick, and she managed to pass the equally rapid training. At first, no one noticed she wasn’t a man—perhaps because she moved like a tomboy.
Her brown skin and demeanor made her easily mistaken for a man at first glance. Even her voice carried a rugged tone, adding to the illusion.
She only looked like a woman when her hair grew longer. Before recruitment, she shaved her head and always wore a cap or scarf to cover her head. Occasionally, she even wore a protective mask to obscure her features further.
The hardest part was hiding her chest, so she endured wearing thick clothing, even in the heat.
Micah brushed her hand over her head. She had shaved her hair in January, but now, just a few months later, it had grown to touch the back of her neck. She would need to tie it back soon, or someone might notice she was a woman.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. She quickly adjusted her appearance, tied a bandana around her head, and slipped on her usual thick clothing before opening it.
Standing before her was Sergeant Theodore, the leader of their group. Typically, small military units were led by non-commissioned officers like him, but guerrilla groups were different, far less formal than the military.
Micah could tell that they were all rookies with little to no experience in warfare.
Theodore said nothing aside from, “Wake them up,” in a lethargic tone before leaving abruptly, without offering any explanation for the order. They weren’t in a basic training camp where officers shouted at them to wake up early, yet his demeanor puzzled her.
“What’s going on?” she muttered to herself, furrowing her brows as she watched him walk away.
***
