The Capas Shrine commemorates the Filipino and American Death Marchers and prisoners of war at Camp O'Donnel in World War 2.
My Grandfather, Louie [a.k.a. Daddy] , and his brother [Uncle Tony] were prisoners at the Capas Concentration Camp in 1942. Daddy was a Death March survivor; he was among those captured by Japanes soldiers and forced to march 97 km (60 miles) from Mariveles, Bataan to Capas, Tarlac after the fall of Bataan. Uncle Tony was not in the march but he was later also thrown into the prison camp.
Our Titos and Tita told us how our granndad never talked about any
gruesome details of the war, but would instead tell only the funny or
hopeful ones. He would also say "just pray that it never happens to
you".
Among the fascinating stories was the one in which he met another young soldier at the concentration camp, an Ilocano like himself, named Ferdinand Marcos.
But my favorite story was one in which my grandmother (and someone else, I forgot who) traveled daily from Manila to Tarlac to leave food and items with the sentry to send to him. It's like something straight from a war movie.
While at the camp, Daddy contracted malaria and other diseases. According to my him, it was the malaria that saved him because it required him to be transferred. Paradoxically, other prisoners died of it.
When they were finally released, Daddy had 15 centavos in his pocket. He managed to get home to Manila without using a single bit of it, because when bus or jeepney drivers learned that he was just released from the Capas camp, they let him have a free ride.
Among the fascinating stories was the one in which he met another young soldier at the concentration camp, an Ilocano like himself, named Ferdinand Marcos.
But my favorite story was one in which my grandmother (and someone else, I forgot who) traveled daily from Manila to Tarlac to leave food and items with the sentry to send to him. It's like something straight from a war movie.
While at the camp, Daddy contracted malaria and other diseases. According to my him, it was the malaria that saved him because it required him to be transferred. Paradoxically, other prisoners died of it.
When they were finally released, Daddy had 15 centavos in his pocket. He managed to get home to Manila without using a single bit of it, because when bus or jeepney drivers learned that he was just released from the Capas camp, they let him have a free ride.
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