Though it may be a day late, I'd like to pay remembrance to my Lolo
Pidio, Capt. Elpidio Bermejo, WWII veteran, survivor of the Death March
of Bataan. Lolo Pidio was my Mom's stepfather (as her father died when
she was still a child), and the doting grandfather I grew up with. Lolo
Pidio, despite being a warrior wasn't the loquacious, garrulous type.
As young as I was (around 5 years old), up till now, his unintrusive,
gentle, hardworking, inclusive character really made a mark on me. For
such, it wasn't surprising that people in our community in Old Sagay,
Negros Occidental then gravitated around him as a de facto community
leader (though he never ran, nor assumed any elective office). Up till
now, I still am amazed by the mark Lolo Pidio left on me. As Lolo
Pidio's body was laid on the coffin, and my Mom lifted me to view him, I
still candidly remember myself turning away, not not wanting to look at
him. And it wasn't because I was afraid of a cadaver, but because, in
my very young mind, a sudden and deep sadness made me do so. It was a
silent but overwhelming sadness. And truth be told, from that time on,
till I was already a seminarian, around 19 years old, I always avoided
viewing dead people inside coffins. Only those inside coffins, as I
never had any queasiness looking at the dead not inside coffins in any
form. It was only after some processing in the seminary then that I was
able to eventually let go of that sadness, and thus I was able to look
again on people in the coffins.
Lolo Pidio died of lung cancer. But I
think, the cancer was just a result of a bigger, deeper cause: WAR. My
Lola Conching would tell me when I was already grown up that Lolo Pidio
had nightmares EVERY NIGHT. Yes, every night. And it was all about the
horrendous experiences he had specially during the infamous Death March.
When I was growing up with them, I remember Lolo Pidio ALWAYS
inebriated EVERY afternoon. Albeit, Lolo wasn't one who'd make trouble,
and would just simply silently eventually go to sleep after his alcohol
dose. And I also remember him to be a very heavy tobacco smoker.
TOBACCO, not cigarets. Dried tobacco leaves that he'll buy fresh in the
market, and he'll roll them himself. Indeed, alcohol and nicotine
dependence. Classic signs of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD),
which just in recent years have been clinically known to plague, yes,
soldiers. The more horrific the experience, logically the deeper trauma.
And the deeper the trauma, consequently, the deeper the dependencies
which the undiagnosed and untreated PTSD drove its victims into. Thus
Lolo Pidio, though not directly killed by the Death March of Bataan, but
it still still egged him on to his march of death, via alcohol and
nicotine dependence, and eventually via lung cancer.
While it's
worthwhile to remember the heroism of our WWII dead and veterans every
9th of April, however, I think we musn't also forget that these dead and
veterans also bled, suffered, died in more ways we can ever fathom and
imagine. Thus, we shouldn't only honor the memory of their heroism, but
also learn from the horrors they went through. And thus, as we remember
them, we musn't also forget that war is never a palatable option despite
its attendant glories. Victors, vanquished, heroes, villains. All of us
lose in war. All of us. In memoriam, Capt. Elpidio "Lolo Pidio"
Bermejo, Sr.
