A FILIPINO BOY’S FIRST WARTIME CHRISTMAS

In my youth, PEACETIME did not take on its real meaning for like thousands of Filipinos never really had reason to think otherwise. As an eleven year old native Filipino boy born and raised in Manila, the capital city of the Philippines the Feast of the Birth of Jesus was one of the highest celebrations there was since the Philippines was 89 percent Catholics.

But December 8 (December 7) 1941 tragically changed the way we prepared and celebrated Christmas.

In the Philippines the tradition for all Catholics was to prepare oneself spiritually and socially for this great Catholic Feast. Thus, every family followed a certain pattern of behavior as early as the start of the Advent Season. I will never forget the ritual which my parents and grandparents observed in preparing for Christmas.

First off, my father would make sure that we have a live Christmas tree installed in our two story home following the American model [for we have been under the Americans for almost one hundred years, after being under Spain for 350 years] All around residential streets hung  decorative buntings and lanterns in the shape of stars which were displayed in every home.

By early December my mother Sarah which was her yearend ritual, would already be checking the shipping schedules of American liners that brought over her orders of toys and gift items that she had ordered through the mail order catalogue of U.S. based Sears and Roebuck Inc.  Every year end, once the local firm of Sears in Manila contacts mother Sarah my father would then send someone to pickup the items from the South Harbor where most major ocean going vessels from the U.S. would dock.

We were sternly forewarned by our mother that no one can touch any of the items until Christmas Day when the opening of the gifts take place. While this was going on, the other tradition in our household was manned by my Grandma Salome (my father’s mother) with her team of cooks  in the person of our Aunt Naty,  Aunt Nene, and all the younger brothers of my father. They were helped by the housemaids (and we always had a platoon of them in every Filipino home) prepare all the food and specially cooked Spanish-Filipino fare we serve for this great Catholic feast day.

The Christmas dishes included Pork Caldereta, Menudo, Pochero, Lomi Soup, Lechon on a spit, Escabeche, and Sinigang na bangus.  This array of traditional dishes is then topped by desserts which included Leche Flan, (custard), all kinds of locally made rice passed sweets, and more.

In the meantime, about two weeks before Christmas my father would drive towards downtown Chinatown in Manila and procure the Chinese ham which was sought after by most Filipinos for its quality.  Once we have the ham it is glazed by my mother with sugar and other ingredients to sweeten the ham before serving.

There were three children in the family, and I was the eldest and only son. Two sisters followed me in sequence. We were always the recipients of gifts from all the aunts and grand aunts as well as extended families as we Filipinos are known for.

When Pearl Harbor was attacked by the Japanese Imperial Forces in December of 1941 our peaceful existence dramatically changed.

In stark contrast with previous Christmases where most Filipinos were often primed to put their all in the preparation of food and other necessities designed to make the celebration truly Catholic and definitely memorable, Pearl Harbor changed all that.

Once Pearl was attacked the Japanese airplanes then flew towards the Philippines and began to bomb and shell military installations in Manila where my family and I lived.  We could see the effects of the bombing from our second story residence. Thus, all the traditional preparation by our family were put on hold.  We were ordered by Philippine President Manuel Quezon to observe blackouts by putting dark tar on windows so that none of the living room lights would filter out onto the streets. Instead of buying food and gifts, nothing of the sort occurred at all for we were often in the air raid shelter whenever the siren would sound when an attack was imminent. 

The items my mother had ordered through Sears and Roebuck never got clear or delivered because the U.S. ships were all held at bay waiting  for instructions.  Soon enough, the Japanese Imperial Army were allowed to enter Manila which was declared by Pres. Quezon as an “Open City”.  The enemy just sauntered into the city leisurely with no shots being fired.

Soon, it was Christmas eve. We tried to attend Mass on Christmas Eve but we saw just a handful of parishioners in attendance and right after Mass we had to go home upon orders from the president’s office.

Christmas Day was no different. What we usually would be doing in past Christmases was celebrating with all my aunts and uncles exchanging gifts and hugging one another. Nothing of that took place on Christmas of 1941.

Instead, we had reports from the radio of more bombings and dead and injured victims being rushed to the different hospitals in the city.

Not far from our residence was a school run by nuns.  When the Japanese forces came to Manila all the families of their enemies (Americans, Canadian, Australian, etc.) were detained in this school. 

I got to visit the children once and befriended a nice looking American girl named Gigi.  I had my mother wrap a little present to be given to Gigi which I did.  Just before she and the rest were removed from the school for another place I gave her the present through the window of one of the classrooms.  She smiled at me with tears in her eyes.  Soon after, they were gone.

Such was my first wartime Christmas which I shall always remember for the rest of my natural life.