Remembering Our Reception Day Fifty Years Ago

April 1, 1974. A day that would change our lives forever.

Two hundred and nine (209) young men answered the call that day. To become the newest members of the elite Cadet Corps. We were an odd mix of city boys and province lads. From the highlands of the Cordillera mountains in the north, to the islands of Sulu in the south. For many, this would be their first time to Baguio City. For some, their first time to be far away from home. For others, their first time ever to be on their own.

We gathered that early morning in Camp Aguinaldo. Said our goodbyes to family and friends. We were glad to meet new acquaintances. And then we were told to board the waiting busses. Finally, we were on our way to far-off Baguio. Where the mysterious grounds of the Philippine Military Academy beckoned.

Arriving in PMA, we trudged warily down the ‘51 steps’ to the PMA parade ground. For a welcome party most of us were not prepared for. Soon, immaculately-dressed cadets marched down the slope in cadence, gliding effortlessly in perfect unison. It was truly a sight to behold! Like magic! And we gushed at the thought that, very soon, we too would be as elegant and as dashing as these toy soldiers now in front of us. A short ceremony followed. And then we heard a simple order uttered: “Bahala na kayo!” (Do as you please!)

And that was when all hell broke loose. The Plebe Detail – those magnificent cadets who marched in looking so regal and so proper – growled together menacingly. All of a sudden, they turned from such stately and refined gentlemen into mad dogs, mouths frothing, ready for the kill.

At first, there was the awe. Which quickly gave way to confusion, and anxiety. And then finally, to fear. This was how Mario Chan described his feelings at that time. He felt like he was in shock, hypnotized into submission, with nothing much he could do but to follow. Mar was utterly confused. Still, he was determined to push through, having come from a difficult life in his hometown in Agoo, La Union.

Rudy Magtibay recalls being shellshocked into submission. He could hear the screaming cadets barking never-ending orders to push-up, sit-up, double-time, waist-high, dash, and so on. He had only one thought to keep him going: his parents. He had vowed that he would be one less mouth to feed, one less problem to send to school. For Sammy Tucay, doubts filled his mind. Amidst the ensuing confusion, he asked himself: “What happens next? Is this what it will take to escape poverty?” Each one of us had his own unique circumstance; each one now had to find his own motivation to survive.

This was Reception Day. The start of a new life for all of us. Reception Day was not the traditional celebration we had envisioned. Speedy Cacanindin’s initial reaction was to run for his life. But he realized that he had nowhere to go. Tom Decena thought there would be food, merriment, and proper introductions to the other cadets. But no, these guys were only serving bellows and bawl-outs.

Our Reception Day would be the beginning of a rigorous one-year orientation, signaling a profound transformation from boys to men, from civilians to soldiers. It also marked the start of a long and difficult journey that would shape our character, instill a demanding discipline, and most significantly, forge a lifelong bond of camaraderie closer than brothers. We were mistahs, brothers from different mothers, of different origins, of different faiths and cultures, of different social status. Yet we were equals now, in the ideal confines created for us by the Academy.

Indeed, Reception Day for us was a mix of emotions. From excitement to anticipation to anxiety. We were stepping into a new world, one that was unknown to most of us, one that would demand unwavering dedication, resilience, and a willingness to push ourselves to our limits. Our skills would be honed by our Plebe Detail, from the PMA Class of 76. We had snappy ‘immaculates’ like Cadets Odette Boquiren, Macky Maclang, Bong Ibrado, Alex Yano, Boots Silva, Sammy Narcise and Greg Paduganan, who would patiently strip us of our civilian antics, replacing them with martial character and discipline; and impressing on us the ultimate responsibility of upholding the valued tenets of Courage, Integrity and Loyalty.

Reception Day was not just a formality; it was a rite of passage that tested our commitment to a higher purpose. It was a prelude to a year that would challenge us to embrace the discipline and rigors of military life, to develop a sense of unity and teamwork, and to strive for excellence in all our endeavors. Many of us would later falter. Some would choose the easy life outside. But for those who chose to stay, the lessons we would learn from hereon would lay the foundation for our future as leaders, whether in combat or in life’s mightier struggles, instilling in us lifelong virtues of perseverance, selflessness and sacrifice.

But apart from the physical and mental challenges, our Reception Day held a deeper significance for us as plebes. It was a day that tested our resolve, our character, and our ability to adapt to a new environment. It would lead us to learn the importance of humility, respect, and obedience, essential elements that would teach us effective leadership and teamwork.

This day was not just about individual change. It would also enkindle a sense of camaraderie and unity among us Mistahs. The bonds we forged during that intense year that followed would endure long after our time in the Academy. They would form the basis of lifelong friendships, professional connections, and a shared sense of purpose that would guide us through the trials and triumphs of our military careers.

Looking back to that Reception Day in April 1 of 1974 some 50 years ago today, we are grateful for the groundwork it laid for the men we would become, and the leaders we would aspire to be. It taught us the values of discipline, sacrifice, and teamwork, qualities that have guided us well not only in our military careers, but in our daily grind in life.

Reception Day, 1974. It was the beginning of a journey that would shape our lives, our careers, and our legacy. Not just as soldiers and leaders, but as an integral part of the bigger global community.

To the Philippine Military Academy, our eternal gratitude. To the PMA class of 76, our salute for the guidance, the support, and for being such worthy exemplars. And to our mistahs, savor the day. Remember our Plebe Song. Ours is a brotherhood that was forged by a fire that was poignantly lit in each one of us on that fateful April Fools Day of 1974. Let the flames of that brotherhood burn ever bright.

Video courtesy of CRSAFP/YouTube

Cover picture, as well as other pictures courtesy of my mistahs, especially the old ones. (Errr…. When I said old, I meant the pictures, not the mistahs.🥴) For a closer look, just click on the pics.

After 50 years, some of my mistahs returned to PMA in Baguio City where our journey all begun. Together with their wives, they went there to pay homage to the institution that has given us a life of honor and dedicated service, as well as to celebrate 50 years of our proud legacy.