Last September 13, the 319 members of PMA “Alab-Tala” Class
of 2018 were recognized as the newest members of the Cadet Corps Armed Forces of
the Philippines (CCAFP).
The Chief of Staff AFP, Gen.
Gregorio Pio Catapang Jr. himself, was the Guest of Honor and Speaker of the solemn but memorable rites at the Borromeo Field.
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| PMA Recognition Day (Courtesy: pma.ph) |
The ceremony signaled their
transition from being “Fourthclassman Dugumon” to Cadet 4th Class
Dugumon. So what’s the difference? Before I answer that, let me first walk you
through plebehood from my own experiences, from my own perspective. I will try
not to consult any reference in writing this piece. I will rely solely on my
memory and I will try to remember as much as I can on how I survived my so called ‘freshman’
year in PMA.
Flashback 2001
I entered the University of Loakan (PMA) on 01 April 2002. For most of us, April 1 is April Fool’s Day but for those who came from the “land of kings where everyone can do what he wishes (and) hiked the plains of Luzon and hurdled the mountains of Baguio”, the first day of April is Reception Day- the most difficult part of a cadet's life.
I was a struggling college
student in Manila when I received a letter from the PMA telling me that I passed the
entrance exams. I took the said exams at the Ramon Magsaysay High School in
Cubao Quezon City. Actually, I almost did not make it to the examination center
because I was practically late after I went to the wrong Magsaysay High School
(somewhere in Manila). Anyway, I got the letter which told me to
undergo the physical and medical examinations at the AFP Medical Center. My
parents did not yet know what I was doing as I purposely did not tell anybody
that I took the written exams. I told myself that if I failed it, nobody would have
known so it wouldn’t be that embarrassing. Fortunately, I made it so off I went
to V. Luna where I stayed for a couple of days for the series of
tests. I wasn’t really sure if I was going to make it. I just told myself to
try it and give my best. If I made it, well and good but if I failed, I’ll just
finish my degree. I didn’t know anything about background investigations and
that it was being conducted on all applicants. My parents would tell me later
how nervous they were when ‘some guys’ started asking about me back in the
province. They thought I was in trouble with the law or something. Why else
would military and police elements be looking for me in the province while I
was in Manila?
As fate would have it, I made
it together with 460 something hopefuls (now I can’t recall how many exactly we
were). As matter of precaution, I filed a leave of absence from my school (a back- up plan just in case). I was about to make a decision that would forever change my life.
2002: taking the road less traveled
On March 31 of 2002, after finally deciding I really wanted to be a soldier, I reported
to V. Luna again to board buses that would take us to the mountains of
Baguio- the City of Pines. A fraternity brod was kind enough to treat me for
breakfast at McDonalds and bring me to V. Luna. I was wearing a black corduroy
pants, a shirt and a pair of vintage Adidas rubber shoes (one which I wore
since high school). I did not have any idea of the reception, thinking all the
while that it was just another freshman orientation like those in universities. Thus,
I was surprised that others were just clad in jogging pants and light shirts as
if they were going on a morning jog. I would find out later how dumb I was to have
that kind of attire after the cadets started yelling at us to do this and that.
Parents, relatives, girlfriends/ boyfriends
and other people were there to bid their beloved would-be cadets goodbye. Some
brought food but I guess most of us were just too anxious to eat. I had nobody
to see me off that time so I silently waited for the instructions to board the
buses that would take us to our destiny.
I barely slept along the way, pondering what awaited us once we got
there. Besides, it was my first time to travel to Baguio. Metro Manila was the
farthest place from Bicol I’ve ever been to.
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| www.pma.ph |
We reached PMA early in the
morning of April 1 and we were joined by other incoming freshies who were from Baguio and nearby provinces. We had a simple
breakfast of hard- boiled egg, hotdog and rice which we were advised to consume
or else we would regret it. After the reception, I realized why they ‘forced’ us
to eat.
We were then ushered to a
building which looked like classrooms. There, we filled out some documents and we were given a sort of orientation. It was like enrolling yourself in college minus the chaos and the
long lines. It was a very orderly procedure but all of us were nervous. We
started talking to know each other just to break the ice and somehow ease the
anxiety that was already engulfing us. After lunch, we were instructed to form
outside the building (which turned out to be the Melchor Hall) as we prepared
to march off towards the reception area. When we were finally arranged
accordingly, the band started playing a variety of military tunes signaling the
start of the ceremony. We marched towards the parade ground as I began to have
goose bumps all over my body. I secretly smiled to myself: “At last, I am here”.
The Reception
| Courtesy: flckr.com |
When we finally reached the
parade grounds, I could see a multitude of people at the grandstand but I couldn’t
hear their voices. My heart bit so fast I thought I could hear it. I tried, but with
little success, to calm down my nerves and to just focus on what’s going on. I
did not understand a single word the speakers said and except for the National
Anthem, I don’t recall any other part of the program that hot afternoon. I
think somebody shouted something, sort of a command, and before I knew it,
everybody was already shouting at us. Everyone was looking for somebody as the freshies (that’s us) started running,
jumping, rolling, jogging and shouting. At first nobody seemed to have an
interest on me so I just joined the crowd and did what everyone was doing. After a while,
a very angry- looking face was already in front of me shouting and calling out my
surname. This time, I joined a separate group and started following them around
shouting, tumbling, jumping and so on. Everywhere I looked, all I saw was men
and women doing what my new group was doing, and shouting was everywhere. We were all already panting and grasping for air. I saw someone collapsed while others vomited but I was just too exhausted to give them a second look.
Amidst the chaos silently prayed I would make it that day.
Amidst the chaos silently prayed I would make it that day.
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| Courtesy: youtube.com |
I do not know long the entire
ceremony lasted. I have lost track of time until I heard a bugle sound that
must have signaled the end of the seemingly endless punishment. We went back to
formation and then off we went to the barber shop. We sat there all sweaty and tired
but upbeat at the same time. The barber did not care to ask us what kind of
haircut we wanted, and it was over in just a minute or two. After our turn, we
regrouped then jogged around shouting and chanting whatever our leader told us.
He would tell us later that he was Cadet L.J., a 3rd Class Cadet or
2nd year, and that he was going to be our buddy. Later that day, we
met our would- be Squad Leader, Cadet S.P., a 2nd Class Cadet or 3rd
year cadet.
First things first
Everybody seemed to be in a
hurry. After the trip to the barber shop, we went to a gym-like building where
we got our individual duffel bags. It had everything we needed from head
to toe- different sets of uniforms, shoes, toiletries etc. We hurriedly changed
into our first ever-uniform, the battle dress attire (civilians simply called
this camouflage). I felt like a real soldier for the first time after shedding
off my beloved corduroy and Adidas (I would get them later after we were recognized).
We were all fumbling as we fitted in our BDAs and combat boots while our buddy
was either counting or howling orders to us.
We were then brought to the
canteen, I mean, the Mess Hall, to eat, but alas, we didn’t. I don’t recall what
our first meal in the mess hall was but it must have surely had rice in it. We
swallowed and swallowed whatever was given to us. We were dead tired and did not care how the food tasted at all. Good thing they did not
deprive us of drinking water- it was even overflowing.
After that ‘sumptuous’ meal, we
went back to the gym which was proclaimed as our barracks. We were quickly
taught how to fix our bunks- our beds, and how to arrange our things as fast we
can. We did not ask any questions. We just followed every instruction. We were
all confused. “Fix this, fix that; do this, do that. Silence! Do not talk to
anyone in front of me without my permission? No conniving! Ask permission
before making any sound or statement!” That’s how it went all night until bugle
sound was heard. Lights were immediately turned off signaling it was time to
sleep. It was our first night there. I rested on my bed, silently prayed and before I knew it, I was asleep.
