Despite the horrific circumstances, Minda found herself smiling softly. “Yes my love, I must carry on and I must carry on the legacy you have given me.” She knelt down beside her husband and kissed him softly on the forehead. “We will win my beloved, we will win…” The tears began to pour unheeded down her cheeks again. With one final kiss on his now cold lips, she rose to her feet, but not before whispering in his ear. “Goodbye my love, until we meet again. You have made me whole and although we are parted, for now, we shall one day spend eternity together.”
When she was standing, she noticed Juan had not moved from his knees. Kneeling, with his head between his hands, he also was wracked with giant sobs. Minda walked over to him, touched him with infinite gentleness on his head, ruffling his hair slightly. When she spoke, her voice was flat and monotone. “Brother-in-law, please ensure my husband is buried properly in the fort’s cemetery, with due ceremony, in a marked grave. When this accursed war against you Spanish is over, I will want to return and mourn my beloved Hernando.” She sucked in some air to try and stifle the sobs that were threatening to get out of control.
Finally, Juan removed his hands and looked up into the face of his sister-in-law. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed, no words coming from his sobbing throat. “Truly, I’m sorry…” he managed to squeeze out.
Minda grasped his arm hard and clutched his sleeve. “I know Juan, I know.” She could hear the voices of other soldiers around the front of the buildings. “I must go before I am captured,” she whispered urgently to Juan. As she turned to run for the exit gate, she took one last look at Hernando’s body and kissing her hand, she blew him his final kiss.
Just before she disappeared through the gate, she took one last look at Juan. He had not moved and still knelt between the bodies of Arturo and Hernando. She shouted, “Juan!” He looked up, his face still contorted in emotion. “I forgive you… and Hernando forgives you…” Without waiting for an answer, Luzviminda de Abreu disappeared into the safety of the forest covering.
***
EPILOGUE:
DECEMBER 8TH 1941 INTRAMUROS - MANILA
It was a typical December morning in Metro Manila, a trifle cool, but warming up rapidly. As she rocked in her chair, Luzviminda de Abreu, now a sixty-one-year-old widow, rocked back and forth in her chair, positioned on the front porch of her modest home. Sitting around her chair, gazing up at her, with loving and adoring eyes were her nine grandchildren. Her two twin boys, Hernando and, yes, Juan, had produced between them four strong sons and five beautiful Filipina daughters. Hernando, of course, was the eldest of the twin brothers, by a good thirty minutes. The grandchildren ranged in age from four through to twelve, but not one of them had moved during their Lola’s story of the life and death of their Grandfather, Hernando de Abreu. She leant forward and ruffled the hair of the eldest, Arturo, and smiled at them all. “So, my darling little mga apo (grandchildren), that is the story of how your brave and handsome Lolo fought for the freedom of The Philippines, against the country of his birth, Spain.” Leaning back, she let out a wistful sigh as remembrances flooded her mind. She still thought of Hernando, even after all this time, every single hour of every single day. At times she wished she could end her life sooner, so as to be reunited with her beloved husband, but one look at her attentive grandchildren reminded her why she was still here. Despite the painful memories, she managed to smile at the children.
“Wow!” Arturo ventured, “that was some story, Lola. So, Lolo truly was a hero of the revolution. I am so proud of him Lola,” he exclaimed.
With a sweep of her arms and an all-embracing smile, she responded. “We all are so proud of him. But children, he was more than just a hero; he was a wonderful man and the love of my life…” Her voice trailed off and she was forced to take her handkerchief from her sleeve and wipe her moistened eyes. Feeling a tug on her long dress, Minda looked down and grinned. Little seven-year-old Lissette was gazing up at her, her gorgeous, dark brown eyes looking like saucers as she smiled through a toothless gap in the middle of her mouth.
“So, Lola, what happened after the defeat at Kakarong de Sili? Did you carry on fighting for the revolution?” Lissette innocently asked.
Minda sighed deeply, “ah child, Kakarong de Sili was but one battle in the long campaign for freedom.” Using her handkerchief to wipe the sheen of perspiration off her top lip, she fanned herself slightly with her paper fan, before continuing. “Well, child, there was no more fighting for me. I was getting way too big, with your Papas to be able to swing a sword or pull a crossbow string anymore. No, I retired to the field office and spent the rest of the revolution, until your Papas were born, working for the newly promoted General Gregorio del Pilar, as his clerk.” She scratched her chin absentmindedly. “He was wounded at Kakarong de Sili, but he did manage to escape to a nearby Barangay in Pandi until he recovered from his wounds. When he was ready for active service again, he was promoted to General. So, I stayed with him right through until the end.”
Ten-year-old Immanuel piped up. “Did we win, Lola?”
The innocent question brought a long sigh from Minda’s lips and an unbidden tear rolled down her cheeks. “Did we win, Immanuel… did we win?” She gazed off into the distance, her mind cast back to forty years earlier. “Well, we thought we did,” she began. “When the Americans came and Admiral Dewey destroyed the Spanish fleet in the Battle of Manila Bay, well, we thought all our dreams had finally come true. Finally, we would be free.” Her head bowed a little before she finished. “But, alas, that was just a fantasy too.”
“Oh!” nine-year-old Bernadette proffered. “What happened?”
Minda chuckled. “Ahhh, the Americans decided that their little brown cousins weren’t ready to look after themselves, after all. They decided they would take The Philippines as a colony, themselves… and… well, they’re still here, forty years later. Oh, don’t worry children, we tried to fight them as well, but eventually, their sheer weight of numbers and equipment was too much for the poorly equipped, but brave revolutionaries.” She chuckled softly. “Still, we gave them a good bloody nose from time to time. They knew we weren’t any sort of cowards, but this time, the war was over.”
“But Lola…” Bernadette persisted, “the Americans aren’t really bad, are they? I mean, some of my friends at school are American and they’re nice… I like them.”
Minda’s smile faded a little, as she gave the child’s words some thought. Out of the mouths of babes… she pondered. “No honey, the Americans are not truly bad. They have done a lot for many Filipinos since they’ve been here. They’ve built schools, Universities, roads, bridges and they’ve given a lot of jobs to ordinary Filipinos who otherwise would have struggled to find work… no, they’re not bad… but…” Minda’s voice trailed off.
“But what, Lola?” Bernadette persisted. “But what?”
Sitting back upright in her rocking chair, she gazed out across the broad plain of concrete and wood that was the metropolis of Manila, before reaching down and lifting little Bernadette onto her lap. “But, children, we still are not free. We don’t decide or control our destiny. Filipinos do not rule The Philippines and until we do… we can never be truly free.”
Suddenly, they heard the roar of what sounded like a fleet of aeroplanes heading across the sky. All nine children and a grandmother glanced skyward as a squadron of planes headed for central Manila. The planes, numbering about twenty in total, flew low over Manila Bay, their dark green tops, contrasting with their blue/grey underbellies. Minda shuddered as she saw the distinctive red, “rising suns” of the Imperial Japanese Air Force, painted on the wings and the fuselage. They watched in horror, as the large bay-door of the underside of the aircraft opened and cylinders began dropping from the sky on the unsuspecting city below.
“Children,” Minda screamed. “Get inside the house, NOW! Hide under the dining room table. We’re being bombed.”
As they all jumped up and rushed toward the house, Arturo sto
pped and pulled his grandmother to her feet, dragging her behind him toward the front door.
Briefly, Minda turned and gazed at the sight of the dropping bombs, tears coursing down her face. “… and… so… it all begins, again,” she whispered to herself.
THE END
POSTSCRIPT:
Luzviminda did indeed live to see her and Hernando’s dream of a free, self-governing Philippines become a reality, when on July 4th, 1946, President Harry S Truman, declared The Philippines to be a sovereign state, relinquishing American sovereignty, with Manuel Roxas to be the first President of the Third Republic of The Philippines.
Luzviminda, now sixty-six celebrated the momentous event quietly, with her two sons, at the side of her beloved husband’s grave, in Manila, where his body had been interred after the revolution.
Despite a violent, brutal and bloody occupation by the Imperial Forces of Japan, the allies, under the command of Douglas MacArthur, landed in Leyte on October 20th, 1944 and began the operation to liberate The Philippines from the Japanese yoke, something he had promised at the time of his ignominious retreat from the country in March 1942, with those now famous words; “I shall return”.
Luzviminda de Abreu served with distinction throughout the Japanese occupation of the Philippines. Although far too old to fight, she helped provide food and shelter for the Filipino partisans engaged in a guerrilla war against the Japanese interlopers.
She died at her home in Manila, in June of 1976, at the ripe old age of 96, surrounded by her loving family, including her twin sons Hernando and Juan, now aged 76.
Juan swears to this day, her last words as she went to meet her maker were; “Hernando, my love, I am coming…”
***
On August 26th, 1989, Colonel Hernando and Lieutenant Luzviminda, Alvarez de Abreu, were posthumously awarded the highest military honour available, in The Philippines, when then President Corazon Aquino, presented their eldest grandson, Arturo de Abreu, with their matching; Medalya ng Kagitingan (Medal of Valour), for bravery and service above and beyond the call of duty.
Thank you, so much for purchasing and reading this book. I do hope you enjoyed it.
I would love you to leave a brief review of the book, wherever you purchased it from. Reviews are very important to Indie Authors and help us to get noticed in this massive marketplace. A review only even need be one or two words. Love it or hate it, your review means the world to me, so please do consider leaving one.
I absolutely love to hear from my readers and contact information follows this page. Please do follow me on Social Media, subscribe to my website, or my newsletters, but most of all – do keep reading and enjoying fine literature from the world of the Independent Authors. I truly do love my readers.
Grant Leishman 15/8/2018
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Grant Leishman
I am an expatriate New Zealander, now residing in the beautiful islands of The Philippines. After careers in finance and journalism, I have finally found my true calling in life and I am now a full-time author. As I like to put it; “I’m living the dream”. I live in Metro Manila, with my beautiful wife and our two daughters.
Writing is my passion, my love, and my bliss. Apart from writing and spending time with my family, my favourite activity is interacting on social media, with my readers and other “indie” authors. I am passionate about promoting the marvellous “indie” authors that the new technology has allowed to flourish in what was previously a tightly-closed shop of elitist, legacy-published, authors.
I am also a great champion of the need to encourage and entreat our younger people to read more. Reading opens the window to new and exciting experiences and allows young people to exercise and test the limits of their imaginations; something today’s visual-media world does not always allow.
I blog regularly on my website and try to live every day by the mantras I put at the bottom of each and every one of my blog posts.
CHOOSE TO BE HAPPY!
EMBRACE THE OPPORTUNITIES LIFE PRESENTS TO YOU AND ALWAYS,
ALWAYS, FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS!
Have a great life and spread the love!
Changing the world – one reader at a time!
Contact Grant Leishman:
I absolutely love to interact with my readers as well as share ideas with fellow authors. Please feel free to connect with me in all or any of the following ways:
Website: http://www.grantleishman.com/
Email Address: [email protected]
Facebook Author Page (Please Like): https://www.facebook.com/AuthorGrantLeishman
Facebook Personal Page (Happy to friend you): https://www.facebook.com/grant.leishman.37
Twitter Account: https://twitter.com/GLeishmanAuthor
Google +: https://plus.google.com/+GrantLeishman/
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/grantleishman37/
Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14119893.Grant_Leishman
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/grantleishmanauthor/
LinkedIn: https://ph.linkedin.com/in/grant-leishman-07722297
Love Beyond: Walang Hanggang Pagmamahal Page 25