First Victory

by Carmelita Cochingco Ballesteros.

July 9, 2010

While Alberto was enjoying his freedom in the com pany of his new compatriots, his father lay dead. He had left to join the revolution without the slightest premonition that his father would fall into the claws of beasts.
Ah! … everyone lived in danger during those times. It would have been better if everyone had risen in arms rather than endure misery or die at the hands of torturers. But this was not so: some were afraid of wielding a dagger, others were unsure about winning, many were indifferent, and most made the situation worse by siding with the enemies of our race. Spies were chosen from them because of their indecent desire to
dishonor themselves in order to live comfortably even if it caused the death of other people. It is heartbreaking to recall this, but it is the truth.
Alberto and his compatriots continued walking although dusk was falling. They wanted to reach the outskirts of Manila where they were headed to. The evening wore on as they walked farther.
The lights of heaven held back their brightness selfishly and the sky was beclouded with dark omens, but
this did not stop them from travelling on: first, they were afraid of being overtaken by the cazadores; and
second, they were eager to join a bigger group which they wanted to find at once. Suddenly, they ran into a man and they questioned him. He had body marks which they recognized as those of a true brother of the
Katipunan. They asked him how far Balara was. He answered, “If one walks real fast, he’ll arrive before morning.” Since there was no reason to fear this man because they had found him to be a true brother of the
Katipunan, based on the body marks that he had shown them, they requested him to go with them and
show them the short cuts that would make their journey faster. Meanwhile, Alberto consulted the old man about the need to give the men a rest because they were not only tired from walking a very long distance but were also weak from too much lack of sleep. Alberto’s suggestion was well taken and so everybody agreed to look for a good place where they could pass the night. Some were just starting to doze off when they heard shots nearby. Many of them were scared and Alberto decided that everybody should get up and prepare for whatever danger might come. The guide who was accompanying them offered to go where the
shots were coming from to find out what was happening there and to report back what was good to do.
However, everybody got tired of waiting for the guide who had left.

Noon came, and they still waited trustingly. All of a sudden, they saw an army of cazadores who were
deploying themselves and were approaching them, led by the guide whom they had been waiting for.
They had only five guns and although there were many soldiers who could fight, all they had were bolos and long daggers. So the old man decided that they should turn around and take a new path so that they could at least hide. Because they had been tricked by the ‘guide’ into such a perilous situation, all of them were afraid that they had very little time to retreat and that it was more likely for them to be captured rather than to escape. Nevertheless, they walked back as fast as they could, terrified as they were. No matter how fast they walked, it appeared that they would be cornered because the Spanish soldiers were spread out in a very orderly formation and all footpaths had been blocked. What should they do in this situation? Nothing, except to draw on their inner courage and to face whatever might come according to the oath, certified with their blood, to die or to succeed in defense of the motherland. They were being followed in the rear and they were being cut from both sides. They could not be fired at only because they were hidden inside the forest, but there was no path where they could escape. They all thought that nothing except death awaited them.
However, must they die and perish without fighting? No! … in such a dangerous situation, they must fight fiercely to defend themselves before accepting the infamous death that was waiting for them. Everybody stopped at Alberto’s order. They aimed their five guns while those who were armed with bolos, like moths who were going to rush into the flame, crawled to meet the approaching enemies. They positioned themselves in some footpaths in the forest. Hiding behind some trees, they waited in ambush for the enemies who were about to enter. What happened was almost like a miracle. Knowing that the rebels had very few guns, the Spanish soldiers rushed at them carelessly without thinking that armed rebels might be waiting for them in the footpaths.

Not a few cazadores died of hack wounds from bolos and stab wounds from daggers. Although a number of Alberto’s soldiers had been killed by gunshot wounds, the Spaniards were forced to retreat, terrified and overpowered by their enemies who fought like madmen. This, Alberto’s first victory, emboldened his soldiers. They celebrated it with great thanksgiving to the Creator through songs and jubilation inside the forest.
But Alberto wept in his heart. The old man, their leader who had taken care of them, and Halimaw,
his friend, had been killed by gunshot wounds. After the sorrowful burial of the bodies of those who had been killed, Alberto decided to leave immediately and to exert every effort to find the big group that they had been wanting to find. They walked without stopping, but evening came just the same in the wide forest. And they still had not found the multitude that they were looking for. As the darkness descended on them, they saw two men from afar. Because of Alberto’s disastrous experience with a ‘brother’ who turned out to be a spy, he immediately ordered his soldiers to arrest the two men who were approaching. While they were still a few meters away, the soldier who was walking ahead shouted. “Stop! Both of you!” “We are brothers,” answered the two men who approached without fear. “Where have you been?” “From Balara. We were asked
by our leader to roam the forest.” “Liars! You are spies of the Spaniards.” “No!” one said firmly and
immediately showed proofs that he and his companion were brothers of the Katipunan. They vowed solemnly
that they were telling the truth. And so Alberto asked that he and his men be accompanied by them to their leader. The two men did not refuse and so they all walked together.
Not long after, they reached Balara and it was true that the two men had come from there. It was confirmed by the leader to whom they introduced themselves. Very happy, the leader and his men celebrated the arrival of Alberto and his soldiers. Since then, Alberto’s name became famous because of his frequent encounters which, fortunately, he always won. He became the terror dreaded by his fellow leaders in the same group. After several months of Alberto’s stay in the forest, news reached him about what had happened
to his father. This made his blood boil and made him more ferocious with any Spanish soldier whom he fought.