When I was a child, tatay, my grandfather, used to drop snippets of his time as a guerrilla soldier during World War II. I was too young, and uninterested to ever really hear.
He’s dead now, and though I still am largely uninterested in the details of war, I regret forgetting practically all his musings, for I am now largely interested in the history and culture of my country.
I’ve discovered a renewed passion, it seems, for home, thanks to my readings and travels.
If tatay were still alive, he will very likely wish to tell me about gun battles, ambushes, running for cover, comrades slain, and enemies killed. But I just read this book, Code Name High Pockets, which is about the true stories of ordinary and not-so-ordinary men and women involved in the resistance movement in the Philippines during WWII; under threat of torture, death, and worse from the Kempetai, interrogation officers of the Japanese army, they gave bread to starving prisoners of wars, delivered food, medicine, and messages to guerrillas hiding in the mountains, and helped friends and neighbors survive that hellish time.
Reading the book was also hellish for me; the author, Edna Bautista Binkowski, had this disconcerting ability to make those times real for this reader. She added names to dates, gave faces to participants, and made people out of historical figures. She told me their stories, pulled me into their lives, and kept me with them as they met horrific deaths, in the prison camps, during the Bataan Death March, or the foul dungeons of Fort Santiago.
One of those who played an important role in the war was Claire Phillips, an American who established an exclusive club in Manila for Japanese officers and affluent Japanese businessmen. She used her club to gather information and make money for the underground as well as guerrilla movement.
High Pockets is her story, but so is it also the stories of so many others: Filipinos, Americans, Spaniards, guerillas, nurses, businessmen, housewives, city folk, villagers… Most were leading quiet lives, until the war forced them to discover they were capable of great compassion, unimaginable hardships, and incredible heroism.
That there were so many of them was the highest and lowest point of the book, for I found it difficult to keep track of so many names across the pages. The pictures, black and white photographs that must have taken ages to find in the attics and trunks of these people’s sons and daughters, helped, but also gave me faces to dream about during the intense week reading from cover to cover.
Now, I’m thinking, if tatay were still alive, and if I were to listen, he would tell me about himself, his friends, his loved ones who lived and died, trying to make sense of the horror, or trying to do the best they could in the face of humanity’s worst.
Having read High Pockets, I am aware more than I care to of humanity’s best and worst, as it contains graphic accounts of the rape, mutilation, torture, and execution committed by the Japanese army on this land. It was war, for which demons and monsters had the right of might, and angels could only tread lightly.
On the title page, this is written: A legacy to the young ones, so that they may understand what the old ones had sacrificed.
I’m sorry I was too young, and tatay died before he found in his grandchildren the heart to know what he had sacrificed. But I’m glad that I have access to books such as High Pockets, and the willingness to read them, for though I know the value of forgiveness, I realize, upon reading this book, that it may not be such a good idea to forget—we may just repeat the unforgivable if we do.
——
I read High Pockets for my book club’s monthly reading challenge. The challenge in May was to read a book about Philippine history. I figure a book about an American Mata Hari in Manila would be an exciting read. I didn’t reckon that I would be stunned out of forgetfulness into awe, and sadness. ‘After the war, where did the heroes, who survived, go?’ we should ask ourselves, and try to find out. I bet stories of their struggles after the war are more tragic, and unrewarding, than their time fighting for freedom, in a time where everyone is busy forgetting.
Someday, not yet, I will read those stories. I am not as brave as Claire Phillips (alias High Pockets), Naomi Flores (alias Looter), or Nurse Josefa Hilado. I can only take hellish a bit at a time.
For now, I would like to suggest to the book’s author and publisher to invest in additional editing for the book. Though well written, it had numerous grammatical errors, and could do with some ruthless cutting of details.
LnddMiles
July 22, 2009
Great post! I’ll subscribe right now wth my feedreader software!
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diaryofaneccentric
December 21, 2009
This sounds like a great book. I’m adding it to my to-read list. My father served in Vietnam and he died before I had a chance to talk to him about his experiences. Same thing with my gram, who lived in Germany during WWII.
I hope it’s okay that I linked to your review on War Through the Generations.
–Anna
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artseblis
December 26, 2009
hi, anna. thank you, i’m honored. and i’m glad you posted here, because then i get to discover another wonderful book blog.
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natsu
February 15, 2010
The book is a product of years and years of research. It’s a good read but it’s also very challenging, I gave up after reading half of it. Talk about information overload. I think they’re going to make a movie about it. 🙂
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artseblis
February 16, 2010
hi, natsu. i was motivated to finish it because of a book club challenge. normally, i stay clear of reads that are outside my comfort zone. but i’m glad i was able to meet this challenge, for i learned a lot.
movie – wow. by a Philippine production company or Hollywood?
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natsu
February 21, 2010
Hollywood. I cannot give anymore info regarding it. 🙂
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artseblis
February 21, 2010
a secret. i look forward to the movie, then. it may help enlighten more young folks about the sacrifices of their elders as, truly, the a history book, can be a chore to slog through.
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Luisito Bolivar
November 18, 2010
maari nga nagamit ng intel community ung mga babae sa club alam naman natin mahilig mga hapon sa magaganda. kilala ko personal si Edna magaling naman sa klase sabi ng teacher nya. ung mga grammar na mali normal lang naman yan sa hirap mag-english.
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artseblis
November 19, 2010
Hi, Luisito! Thanks for dropping by. Wow, you know Ms Edna? Awesome. Oh, and regarding my suggestion for sharper editing, that’s not to imply anything about the author’s grammar skills. All manuscripts, even by the best authors in the world, have to go through extensive edits to be ready for publication. Desk and book editors are the unsung heroes of the literary world, in my opinion. They can turn a great story into a brilliant one.
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Luisito Bolivar
January 23, 2011
Yes Madam/Sir. dati ako hepe ng Pulis Limay, Bataan kaya kilala ko personal si Edna certified ng about 80 YO teacher nya ng elementary na honor student kaya hindi hearsay yan.opinyon ko lang syempre libro yan medyo edited na alangan namang ilagay pa ung mga BOLD na ginawa ng hapon sa mga nasa club di naging PORNO na ung libro.
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Virginia
March 16, 2010
I saw a movie called High Pockets when I was a young girl and although I have never been one to be impressed with actors or Hollywood I remembered the story all my life. I don’t like what comes out of the film industry these days and think they have had a very negative impact on our youth and society. This story of heroism is truly honorable and these men and women gave all they had for our freedoms we have today.
Thank you for this amazing article.
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waistline32
March 24, 2010
where do we get this book? my paternal lolo was a soldier too. my maternal lolo naman was a martial law political prisoner.
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artseblis
April 6, 2010
hi, waistline32. please contact this person through the link here. he’s with the printing press company that takes care of High Pockets reprints.
http://www.facebook.com/joel.garduce
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scarebut
March 31, 2010
I am interested in purchasing the “High Pockets” book.
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