Love Beyond: Walang Hanggang Pagmamahal

by Grant Leishman

  Hernando shook his head in disbelief at the speed at which events were overtaking him. It was Minda, kissing his cheek and shouting with unrestrained glee. “Wow! My husband is a Colonel now and I am his loyal Lieutenant. How incredible is that,” to break him out of his stupor.

  “Yes, right, okay,” he stumbled. “Well, first of all, Carlos, please organise the men, the horses, and our equipment and be ready to depart at eighteen hundred hours this evening.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Carlos replied. “May I enquire what you and the Lieutenant will be doing in the interim, Sir?”

  Hernando chuckled and stood, reaching for Minda’s hand to pull her up. “Ahhhm, well, the Lieutenant and I have some very important, ahhh, logistical issues to discuss in private. Hmmm, if anyone requires me, we will be in the barn… discussing said issues.”

  Try as he might, Carlos couldn’t stop the smirk from appearing at the corner of his mouth. “As you say, Sir, as you say.”

  Hernando, his face colouring significantly, just nodded his head and grabbing a firm hold of his wife’s hand, led her out of the kitchen, through the farmhouse and out to the barn. He noticed the General had already departed, which didn’t surprise him at all, but he couldn’t help but see, young Arturo, still slouching against the farmhouse walls, but now he had a wicked looking curved dagger in his hand, that he was rhythmically stropping with a piece of sharpening leather. Hernando gulped as he met his eyes and noticed the naked hatred boring right through to his soul. Not wanting Minda to see her former friend like that and to worry, he rushed her through the door, whispering to her about something inconsequential, to stop her looking in Arturo’s direction.

  ***

  After weeks of enforced inactivity and solitude, the frantic events of this day that had unfolded before them had thrown both Minda and Hernando into a tailspin of conflicting emotions, thoughts and challenges. They needed some time alone, together, to just be. To just be husband and wife, not soldiers, but just two people deeply in love. They both needed to refocus, to calm down and to absorb everything that had just taken place. Hernando was feeling overwhelmed with the responsibility and trust that had been thrust upon his young shoulders. He felt inadequate in the face of these fiercely determined and courageous Filipino patriots.

  The first thing he noticed when they entered the barn was that someone, presumably the General had organised a full Colonel’s uniform for him that was hanging from a hook on the back of the barn door. “I guess I’d better get my clothes off,” he motioned to Minda.

  She looked at him askance, “much as I’d like to honey, are you sure we have the time?”

  The ice broken and the mood softened, Hernando chuckled, “no silly, not that! I’d better get my Captain’s uniform off and get it across to Carlos so he can be properly attired before we leave… but… now that you mention it… maybe we do have time.”

  Minda slapped him hard on the shoulder and he flinched in mock pain. “Keep your mind above your breeches Colonel de Abreu. We have many other things to talk about first.”

  Grinning, he pulled his wife into a tight embrace and kissed her passionately. “Maybe so,” he muttered breathlessly when they finally broke apart, “but it doesn’t mean I can’t dream about it, now does it?” He pulled Minda over to the bed they had set up in the barn and pulled her down to sit beside him. “You know honey; it all feels so surreal, what happened here today.” He quickly added, “I don’t mean us getting married darling, no, no, no, that was the best thing ever… and you were a stunningly beautiful bride, by the way. No, I mean the promotions, the orders to go to Pandi, and the fact that very soon I’ll be fighting… and killing, my own countrymen. It takes some getting my head around.”

  Minda’s answer was to wrap one arm around his head and pull it down until it rested on top of her breasts. She stroked his hair softly and whispered. “It’s going to be fine Hern, it’s going to be okay. We can cope with anything, as long as we are together.”

  He looked up, into her eyes, in wonderment, at her calm, accepting manner of their situation and not for the first time, he marvelled that this wonderful woman was actually his wife. She is so definitely a ‘keeper’, he mused.

  The five hours they had together, alone and thankfully without interruption, in the barn, passed so quickly, neither of them was ready for the shout that came through the door. “Colonel. The men are mustered in front of the farmhouse for you to inspect them. We leave for Pandi in one hour, Sir.”

  Mildly annoyed at the interruption to their mutual admiration society, they had been indulging in all afternoon Hernando swallowed his initial angry retort and fired back. “Very good Captain. The Lieutenant and I will be out momentarily.” They quickly dressed; Hernando in his brand-new Colonel’s uniform and Minda in a second-hand Lieutenant’s uniform that had been purloined from somewhere.

  Five minutes later, Hernando strode through the barn door, squinting into the setting sun. He stopped short, amazed at the fine body of men lined up in perfect formation, outside of the farmhouse. This was no rag-tag bunch of revolutionaries, he thought to himself. This is a real army and I am their leader. A surge of pride rushed through his veins. I cannot let them down.

  Captain de la Cruz marched up to Hernando and saluted crisply. “Sir, the men are ready for inspection.”

  Hernando knew the men were champing at the bit to be underway, so he only gave them a perfunctory inspection, walking down their ranks and stopping every so often to straighten a cap, or do up a button, each time, saying a few quiet words to the soldier involved.

  As he neared the end of the row, he came face to face with Carlos’ brother, the angry and fiery, Arturo de la Cruz. Hernando flinched when he noticed the Sergeant’s stripes on Arturo’s sleeve. Good God, he thought, this boy is too young and too inexperienced to be a Sergeant, but then he realised that most of the members of his Company were no older than sixteen or seventeen. Perhaps Carlos has made him a Sergeant, so he can keep a closer eye on his young brother. Regardless of the reasoning, a Sergeant he clearly was. Hernando stopped in front of Arturo and stared long and hard into the boy’s face. Although Arturo didn’t move a muscle and kept his face expressionless, Hernando imagined he could still feel the mists of anger and hatred roiling off the young man, like a heat haze in the desert. Forgoing any adjustments or words to the Sergeant, Hernando spun on his heel and marched over to Carlos.

  The Company had three horses. The men would have to march the twenty kilometres to Pandi. Hernando mounted his beloved steed and signalled for Minda and Carlos to mount up behind him. Raising one hand in the air, he signalled and shouted, “forward ho, Troop!” The Santa Maria Company of the Philippine Revolutionary Army had begun its route march to Pandi, Bulacan.

  ***

  As much as was possible, the convoy stayed away from the roads. They used rarely used Carabao (Water Buffalo) tracks and cut across farms and over hills, trying to stay clear of the possibility of encountering a Spanish patrol from Hernando’s old camp. Hernando, Carlos, and Minda, would, from time to time, ride out ahead of the marching men to scout the route they would be taking to Pandi. Hernando knew there was a large river they would need to cross, just out of Santa Maria, the Guiguinto River, so he decided they had better scout for a place to ford. He knew they could not cross at any of the bridges, as his former colleagues always maintained patrols around those bridges. Taking his men downriver, actually away from their intended destination of Pandi, would make the trip longer and more arduous, but Hernando knew its necessity. Looking at the swift-flowing current, he began to despair of finding a place where his Company could safely cross. He wasn’t worried about the horses, as he knew they could swim across no problem, but his fifty-odd men, laden down with supplies and packs could very easily be swept downstream and drown should they attempt to cross the swirling waters.

  After travelling over an hour downstream, he was relieved to find a point where the river bent back sharply on itself and then opened into a wide
, broad channel, almost lake-like. What pleased him was the current seemed to settle and the flow was minimal. It all depended on how deep it was in the middle and whether the men could safely negotiate it. Hopping off his horse, he signalled for Carlos and Minda to wait on the shoreline, as he strode out into the waters. In the pale moonlight, the water glistened and twinkled like a million rippling stars. He couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty of his adopted country, especially in the early evening when the moon rose and the sparkling panoply of the heavens opened up. It felt almost reverent out there in the wilderness. Hernando continued to slowly cross the wide expanse of water, treading carefully and reaching forward at each step to push his swagger stick into the river bed, to test for holes. When he reached the other side safely, a broad grin broke out across his face and he waved his arms victoriously at the now dim figure of his wife and Carlos.

  After re-joining his comrades on the far bank, the three sat down to await the arrival of the marching men. They were, by this time, a good ten to fifteen minutes away, so Hernando took the opportunity to lie flat on his back on the gravel river’s edge and just stare upward, in wonder and appreciation at the canopy of stars that spread from one glorious side of the cosmos to the other. He sighed softly as Minda lay beside him and curled up into the crook of his arm, nestling her head on the broad expanse of his chest. No words were necessary as the two soaked up the sheer beauty that beheld them. Far too soon, they heard the rustling and clomping of feet as the rest of their Company arrived at the river’s edge.

  “Men, we will have a ten-minute break here, before we cross the river,” Minda instructed them. Hernando smiled at his tiny, wife who had no problem ordering big, swarthy, soldiers, around. She’s quite the woman, he thought to himself. He relaxed back to continue his examination of the heavens, his mind relaxed and his heart singing with happiness.

  He felt, rather than heard, the body that sat down beside him on the gravel. A tremulous, quavering voice spoke softly in his ear. “My Colonel, may I have a word with you, please?”

  Hernando sat bolt upright, brushing the grainy sand and pebbles from the back of his shirt. He couldn’t hold back the shock on his face when he realised he was eye to eye with Arturo, Carlos’ younger brother. “Hmmm,” he muttered, “Sergeant de la Cruz, isn’t it? And what can I do for you?”

  Arturo gulped and looked like he wasn’t going to answer, but then it all came out in a frantic rush. “Sir, I just want you to know that there are no hard feelings…” Arturo breathed deeply. “You know, Sir… about Luzviminda.” He rubbed his hands through his hair, trying to get himself balanced. “Ahhhm, I did love her, Sir, but I know now that she has chosen you and I want you to know that I am happy for you both.” The effort of getting it out had proved too much for the young man and he buried his face in his hands.

  Pushing himself to his feet Hernando placed his hands on Arturo’s shoulders and lifted him up also. He knew it had taken a lot of courage to come and confront him about this and the last thing he wanted to do was destroy what little self-confidence and dignity the boy had left. “I appreciate you coming to talk to me, Sergeant. It takes a big man to admit when he has lost, so I respect you greatly.”

  Arturo smiled shyly and held out his hand toward Hernando for him to shake it. Hernando grinned and instead grabbed him in a bear hug, slapping his back. “Hey, we are comrades and brothers-in-arms now Sergeant. We have a common enemy and we will fight him together, yes?”

  As he released him, Arturo’s face broke into a wide grin as he replied, “yes Sir, we will kick those accursed Spanish into the sea.” With one final, reassuring pat on Arturo’s arm, the young man turned and shambled back towards the rest of the men. Hernando sighed. Well, that’s one less thing I have to worry about, I guess. I was concerned about that young fella’s state of mind and his intentions towards me.

  Following the river crossing, which was mostly uneventful, apart from one soldier slipping on a rock and twisting his ankle, the remainder of the journey to Pandi passed quickly and without incident. General Aguinaldo had warned Hernando that he may have trouble getting into Pandi itself, as the town was ringed by Spanish encampments. “You may have to fight your way in,” he’d told him.

  As they approached the town of Pandi, he sent out scouts to try and ascertain the exact lay of the land and how many troops were stationed near the fort. The sun was just starting to lighten the eastern horizon and Hernando was keen to get his men safe and inside the fort before the full daylight arrived to expose his small force. As the first scouts came back to report, it became obvious the entrance to the town was heavily guarded. “There is a camp, about two miles from the fort,” one of the scouts reported. “I got as close as I could to it, but they had a number of guards patrolling the perimeter and I wasn’t able to get close enough to guess how many men would be there.”

  “Your best guess, Private. That’s all I’m asking for,” Hernando replied.

  The soldier scratched his chin, in thought. “Judging by the number of tents in the encampment, Sir, I would estimate there would be between forty and fifty soldiers in the group.”

  “So, we will be attacking a force about the same size as our own. Still, we will have the element of surprise on our side and if we move quickly we may catch some of them still sleeping, so that will give us an advantage.” He turned to Carlos and Minda, “you two, brief the men and get ready to move out as fast as we can. We need to catch these Spaniards on the hop.” Dropping his superior officer guise for a moment, he smiled at both of them. “Time to get our feet wet, at this fighting lark eh? Well, you both be damn careful out there. Carlos, I need you by my side… and Minda… well, you know, I just need you.”

  The men were up and ready to depart within just a couple of minutes of giving the order. Hernando again marvelled at the efficiency and readiness of these men, who up until a few months ago, he’d always just thought of as peasant rebels. He was wrong, these men were proud, Filipino soldiers ready to fight and, if necessary die, for their country and for freedom. He was proud to lead them.

  ***

  As they approached the encampment, Hernando spread his men out, in a circle, to totally surround the Spanish soldiers. From the treeline, he could spot eight sentries, two at each corner of the camp. He motioned Arturo to come over to join him. “Sergeant, I want you and seven other men to go and quietly eliminate those sentries. No guns, knives only – we can’t alert the rest of the camp to our presence. Can you handle that?”

  Arturo practically beamed with excitement at being chosen to lead the raiding party. “Of course Sir, of course, like you say, quietly.”

  “When you have completed the task, wave towards us and we will attack.”

  Arturo snapped to attention and saluted his commanding officer. “Yes Sir!” he whisper-shouted and turned to rush away and choose the comrades to accompany him.

  Hernando leaned over and whispered in Minda’s ear. “You know, I think Arturo may have finally gotten over losing you.”

  Minda scowled at her husband. “Hernando, are you sure you didn’t just choose Art to lead the raid, in the hopes he might get killed?”

  Horrified, Hernando assured her it wasn’t the case at all. “I really think that young man has a future in this Army. I’ve been impressed by his dedication and determination,” he assured her.

  “Hmmmm…” was all she managed.

  Hernando was left with a lingering thought as to whether there may be some kernel of truth to her words. He didn’t have time to ruminate on it, however, as they watched the advanced raiding party, skulking through the trees, to the four corners of the camp, ready to take out the sentries.

  There was not a sound emanating from the encampment as Arturo and his men crept up on the sentries, who, at the end of a long and cold night shift, were barely awake, let alone alert. They clearly were not expecting any trouble and were dispatched rapidly and noiselessly.

  When Hernando spotted Arturo, waving both arms ab
ove his head, in their predetermined signal, he swallowed heavily and turning to Minda and Carlos, he stated. “Right, this is it, guys! Let’s go get us a victory.” With a wild shout, the three of them on horses sped towards the still slumbering camp, their troops following behind at full run. He hadn’t given too much thought to how it would feel, emotionally, to engage his former countrymen in mortal combat, but in the short distance they covered to the first tents, he reminded himself that he was committed to these brave soldiers, to Philippine freedom, and of course, most importantly, to Minda, his darling wife, whose horse’s hooves he could hear clattering along just behind him.

  Hernando’s steed, Geraldo, was the fastest to reach the nearest tent and as he reined his horse to an almost stop, several half-dressed men, stumbled out of the tent, blinking crazily in the half light and trying to figure out what exactly was going on. They never stood a chance, as Hernando’s wickedly sharp sabre came crashing down and sliced through their necks, severing their heads from their bodies.

  As he cleared each tent, Hernando deliberately rode his horse into the tents, collapsing it and then stomping on it, just to ensure there were no survivors hiding beneath the canvas. He glanced around him and noted his men engaged in fierce hand-to-hand fighting with the enemy, but he could tell their element of surprise had been the deciding factor in this fight. The outcome was inevitable, from the moment of the first sabre swing and before long there was nobody left to battle with. He spotted Minda’s horse at the farthest eastern part of the camp. She also was swinging her smaller, but equally as deadly, sword as she scythed through the milling Spanish soldiers.

  Realising the battle was over, Hernando called his men to halt and dismounting from his horse, he surveyed the carnage, an unbidden tear finding its way out of the corner of his eye. Such a waste he thought. Why can’t we all live in peace and dignity? But, he already knew the answer to that question – greed, that basest of human failings. Greed of the politicians, greed of the priests and greed of the merchants; that’s why his countrymen were here and that is why they suppressed and oppressed this cultured and dignified people. Well, no more, he decided. We will fight back… and fight back they had.