to live, to love, to learn, to leave a legacy… and to laugh along the way
Just some episodes in my life that have contributed to who I am today
On our last night in Davao, I asked what they had learned from our trip. After hearing many of the kids offering gratitude for the trip, a young boy – someone who had stayed silent and detached for most of the trip – raised his hand slowly, his eyes wide and innocent, and when acknowledged, spoke candidly in their dialect. His words pierced straight through my heart: “I learned that not all soldiers are killers.” Silence. “And not all Christians are land-grabbers,” he added.
Coming home, marching out from those dark woods, I would appreciate more clearly why General Abadia insisted that officers must first prove themselves in the trenches before aspiring for higher commands. Men do not follow rank. They follow credibility. They follow leaders who have carried the same heavy pack, walked the same knee-deep muddy trails, endured the same sleepless, shivering nights, and shared the exact same mortal dangers.
Little by little, the mountains would humble me with lessons that no staff assignment could teach: that leadership begins with shared hardship, that credibility is earned rather than assigned, and that comfort, if left unchecked, has a quiet way of softening even the most experienced of soldiers. I had returned to command a Scout Ranger Company. I didn’t realize it then, but my Rangers were also slowly – and subtly – teaching their commander how to become one again.
By letting me glimpse the heavy burden behind the stars on his shoulders, he transformed my writing from simply efficient to deeply authentic. I was no longer just ghostwriting official correspondence or crafting strategic speeches; I was learning to articulate the heartbeat of the leader. That was when I found out that good writing isn’t measured by eloquence. It is measured by authenticity.
What began as a simple transfer for the sake of family placed me in a unique position to witness – up close and personal – the tension, the uncertainty, the courage, and the hope that unfolded during the historic EDSA People Power Revolution of 1986. It was a moment when history ceased to be something found in books and became something we lived through, those fateful days that would not only be the country’s pride, but would be a model for many more countries in the years that followed.
I had barely been introduced when she looked at me and asked, almost matter-of-factly: “Sundalo ka pala? Ilan na ang napatay mo?” (So you’re a soldier? So, how many men have you killed?”) For a second, I didn’t know how to react. I didn’t know whether to laugh or to take it seriously and defend myself.
