PROPERTY FROM THE COLLECTION OF A DISTINGUISHED FAMILY

ABOUT THE WORK

The Filipina Spy who Silenced the Japanese Cannons by E. A. SANTAMARIA The Battle of Manila raged from February 3 to March 3 of 1945 — and was said to be the single deadliest urban warfare in the Asia-Pacific of World War II. It not only physically destroyed the metropolis and indiscriminately killed a massive number of civilians but lay waste the repositories of a nation’s culture. Japanese naval cannons were positioned in Intramuros and were used with deadly effect on pulverizing the sentinels of Philippine democracy from the Senate, the National Museum, and for this gun in particular, the Manila Post Office and the Manila City Hall, seen in these post-Battle photographs as shells of their former selves. But there were tales of heroism to be found in this desolation. Writing in Manila Nostalgia, Jose Maria Bonifacio Escoda featured an interview of the late Dr. Antonio “Tony” O. Gisbert, who he said was “the only one who knew the story of this last Japanese cannon — which was also the only one he failed to identify for the celebrated female guerrilla Josefina “Joey” Guerrero.” He continued, “she handed all the details of these deadly anti-aircraft guns to the Americans which were destroyed during the first air raid of the Americans on September 21, 1944.” This particular gun, which survives to this day, evaded destruction “because it was hidden in the walls and rolled out when it shelled City Hall and the Post Office.” Dr. Gisbert had married into the Guerrero family and during the war would reconnoiter around Intramuros, committing the locations of the artillery to his memory, and smuggle the sketches to Josefina Guerrero. The ground floor of the house she lived in was entirely occupied by the Japanese military — making it doubly dangerous. Josefina had become afflicted by leprosy before the War and the invasion of the Japanese cut off supplies of the medicine that could arrest her deadly disease. She made up her mind, her memoirs say, “not to die a slow and painful death but to live a heroic life.” She enlisted with the Resistance and became a valuable courier of information that saved thousands of Filipino and American lives. As her illness progressed and the lesions became more apparent, she had become obliged to wear a veil and carry a warning bell. The Kempeitai gave her a wide berth, allowing her to move freely and excusing her from body searches. It made her the perfect wartime spy. Joey, incidentally, was married to another doctor, Renato Ma. Guerrero, brother to the famous playwright Wilfrido Ma. Guerrero. After the war, she faced renewed exile in leper colony north of Manila, where she fought for patients’ rights amidst deplorable conditions. Fernando Amorsolo’s daughter Sylvia wrote in Remembering Papa, “Father sketched war scenes from his window or sometimes on the rooftop to catch a quick glimpse of the planes fighting in the sky.” As the battle went on, destruction befell the capital city. Amorsolo, even at his age (he was, by then, 53), considered it his patriotic duty to document the horrors of the war. He painted every day, diligently recording these scenes of both tragedy and victory even as his health declined — like Guerrero and countless other Manilans — due to the lack of medicine. This last remaining Japanese cannon, now finally silenced, would be discovered in the Baluarte de San Diego, a relic of those terrible times, with live ammunition still strewn around it after the Battle of Manila. It must have made a searing impression of the Japanese army’s ultimate and permanent defeat that Amorsolo recorded that he had made two paintings of this important tribute