1. A Story Shared By My Grandmother
World War II and Japanese Occupation in the Philippines Experience
Year 1941 – 1945
By: Denissa Bianca Go De Leos
I was in panic and had to ask my Mom to call me long distance the other day. I told her it's urgent and very
important. I made her worried. When she called, I told her about our assignment and that we needed to
interview a person who had experienced World War II and Japanese Invasion in our country. She blurted and
said out loud, “do you really think I'm that old?” She then continued and said that my grandfather had
mentioned to her briefly about a time when he was bringing food to the guerillas during war but that's about
it. “But I need fourteen (14) days of experience”, and started to cry because I know that I won't get more details
about it for my grandpa had passed away almost five (5) years ago.
There was a brief pause on the line. I thought that my mom had hanged up on me or the line was cut-off. Then
after awhile, somebody with a frail voice started talking to me. My grandmother! I completely had forgotten
about her. I could hear the smile and the excitement on her voice. Not sure if the past would bring tears or good
memories to her but she surely is happy that she would be able to share some of her stories to her
grandchildren. And so with my ear on the phone and hand on the paper and pen, she started narrating her
story…..
“As I recall, the attack on the Philippines by the Japanese Regime started in Manila around December 1941. I
was very young at that time, around 12 years old. I'm the oldest of 7 and so I was burdened of staying strong
and brave for my younger siblings.
We lived in the Mindanao Region in Jolo, Sulu. 1942, three to six months after the Japanese invasion in Manila,
my parents have heard the news that the Japanese are moving to the Mindanao Area. My parents decided to
move to Zamboanga City to secure the family. We started packing. I was responsible for my own clothes as
well as for the clothes of my brothers and sisters. Off we went to the sea shore by walking and then we rode the
Vinta (sailboat) from Jolo, Sulu to go to Tulayan Island. We stayed there for a few days before heading to
Zamboanga.
When we arrived at Zamboanga, we heard that the Japanese Military are already there and started invading the
place. So we walked to the mountains and stayed there to be safe from the Japanese. It was a very long walk. I
remember my feet getting sore and bruised from too much walking. I also pity my younger brothers and sisters
for they too have to walk.
The native villagers living at the mountain top were so nice to take our family. They let us live with them. There
were also some other people who have escaped from their hometown and went up to the mountains to hide from
the Japanese. My parents helped in planting fruits and vegetables and harvesting them so that we’ll have
something to eat. I didn't see any Japanese while we were living on top of the mountains for my parents have
strictly forbidden us to go pass the marker that they had set for us. They said that if we are to pass it, we might
get caught by the Japanese and they will kill us. So after hearing that, nobody even dared to get close to that
marker.
A few months after the Japanese have taken over and controlled Zamboanga City, war died down a little. People
(except from women) started to gain freedom in walking around the city without fear of getting killed or
hurt. My dad would go down to the city to check if it's really safe and then when he was sure it's safe, he
decided to moved the family to a house close to the seashore. We stayed there for two months.

2. Then we moved to Isabela and stayed there for one year. It is more peaceful in Isabela. Although, the country is
still under the control of the Japanese, they have allowed the Filipinos this time to do some business. My mother
together with her cousin sells fruits in front of the house we’re staying while my dad works in the market selling
fabrics. All we eat at that time were fruits, especially bananas and vegetables, no rice.
My dad wanted us to go back to Jolo, Sulu after a year of living in Isabela. He said that life would be easier
there because we have a house, some properties, and relatives who are still staying there.
So we packed again our things (mostly clothes) and headed back to Tulayan Island riding the Vinta before
proceeding to Jolo, Sulu. While staying at the Tulayan Island, my dad would occasionally travel to Camp
Andres in Jolo, Sulu to check if it is peaceful enough and really safe to go back home.
Our house is located at the Chinese Pier – a housing area at Camp Andres, Jolo, Sulu. When we arrived back
home, I could never forget the joy I felt seeing our house again. But that feeling of joy didn't last a long
time. Things were different that time. We were not allowed to play outside the house; we cannot go outside
without permission or without any adults accompanying us. It feels that we too are a prisoner in our own home.
You wouldn't believe that we already have night market at that time. My mother sells fried bananas every night
at the night market. Yes, we are still eating bananas up to this time. I actually have forgotten the taste of
rice. She doesn't bring me with her to the night market but occasionally, I would hear her rushing back to the
house and hiding because the Japanese Military is patrolling around the city. She said that if the Japanese
Soldiers finds a girl attractive and likes her, they will take her with them and will abuse and rape her. I felt sad
hearing that, but at the same time thankful that my mom has strong legs and can run fast to hide from them.
My most unforgettable memories of the Japanese War were when your grandfather, my dad was captured by the
Japanese Soldier and was put into prison. My dad was doing barter trading of whole peppers and munggo seeds
with Borneo and Indonesia and somebody who is jealous of his income and work reported this to the Japanese.
So one day, the Japanese raided our house and saw the whole peppers and munggo seeds that my dad was
trading and then they started beating him and seized him. They took my dad to the concentration camp at the
Airport and locked him up in jail. While in jail, they put him to work pulling out grass at the field they are
building for the new runway at the airport.
I thought I would never see my dad again when they detained him. I thought that they would kill him and my
last memory of him was the day when they caught him and beating him to death. I remember me and my mom
were helplessly crying while hiding from the Japanese Soldiers. We could not do anything to save my dad. My
mom was afraid to get out of our hiding place for the Japanese might abuse and rape her.
The next day, my mom asked one of our neighbors to visit my dad at the concentration camp. She just wanted
to know if they would allow somebody to visit my father and bring food for him.
The Japanese allowed my younger brother, Antonio to bring food for him. So while he was there, he would help
him pull out the grass in the field. There are times that my brother would come home from the concentration
camp crying. He said that he saw the Japanese beating my dad again with a thick whip. He would see him
bleeding and falling on the floor because of the strong whip that the Japanese laid on him.
For three months, my dad was held captive by the Japanese. And it is only through my younger brother,
Antonio that we would know how he is doing and if he is still alive. He was our only way of staying in touch
with our father and him with us.
It was early 1945 when we started hearing American Planes flying over the city. As soon as we hear their
planes, my younger brothers and sisters and I would run in one of the shelters that my dad and his friends made
and hide under there under piles of sacks. There are times that we would just hear them flying over us and there
are times also that they would fire their plane machine guns over the city. Feared that the Americans will soon

3. start bombing the city and hit the Chinese Pier where we were staying, the family moved back to Tulayan
Island.
We stayed there until the Americans defeated and captured the Japanese Soldiers.
It was around September of 1945 when the Japanese War ended. We went back to Jolo, Sulu. My dad built a
new house called Bahay Kubo at Tubig-Alat. This is our house by the sea.
I hope that this story helps you with your assignment. It's painful to bring back these old memories but also is
relieving for me. After all those years, I was able to share it. So you should be happy and thankful that you are
living a good life.”
As we hang up the phone, I was so sad and at the same time happy to hear her story. It is sad to hear that she has
to go through all those pain but happy I was able to know a very important part of her life. This interview
brought me closer to my grandmother. Indeed, this interview was a very good experience.
Article By: Denissa Bianca De Leos, 19 March 2008