A Child of World War II Writes - Astraquillo-Ongkeko, Ph. D Lourdes J.
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The book recounts World War II when the Japanese military occupied Baguio, Northern Luzon, the Philippines, on December 8, 1941. Carpet bombing joined the populace's vocabulary; Filipinos were hoping they would be spared. Sentry posts were installed manned by fully-armed soldiers. Each civilian who passed by the sentries was halted to obey the act of bowing: not just a simple nod. Soldiers demonstrated bows; no one proceeded to leave unless the sentry illustrated "moving on." Sentries corporally punished those who failed to make the required low, low bow. "My father was an early victim.…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
The book recounts World War II when the Japanese military occupied Baguio, Northern Luzon, the Philippines, on December 8, 1941. Carpet bombing joined the populace's vocabulary; Filipinos were hoping they would be spared. Sentry posts were installed manned by fully-armed soldiers. Each civilian who passed by the sentries was halted to obey the act of bowing: not just a simple nod. Soldiers demonstrated bows; no one proceeded to leave unless the sentry illustrated "moving on." Sentries corporally punished those who failed to make the required low, low bow. "My father was an early victim. Dressed in his usual coat/tie, he turned to bow which the sentry considered way below par. He beat Papa using a large rod; stripped him of his clothing, threw it to an already full trash bin. Onlookers were touched. As a child, I was shooed away. In the most pitiful state I had seen Papa, he whispered how I should enroll at the sole Japanese Language School. I did. As early enrollees, the teacher did not talk to us in English. We were first tested for admission and financial capabilities. Each time I passed through the sentries, I would greet them in their language; they'd shove me off, replying too in their language. Sentries felt free to confiscate jewelry from passers-by: watches, earrings, necklaces, any kind of bejeweled enhancement. My mother was used to wearing a breast watch on a collar which the sentry grabbed without warning. The collar was torn. Mama returned home. Tears framed her face. She sobbed as she recalled how the watch as it was her godmother when she received a diploma that attested to her qualification for a career in teaching."
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Autorenporträt
Lourdes J. Astraquillo Ongkeko, Ph. D calls herself a child of World War II as soon as she saw how it announced itself in her native Philippines. She was a fi rst-semester public high school sophomore of Baguio City High School, Northern Luzon. War announced itself on December 8, 1941 through what was later identifi ed as carpet bombing. Likewise known as Ludy, her dad's nickname for her, that name has identifi ed her offi cially: a journalist, educator and author. In her 6th grade English class, her teacher submitted an essay written in class, "My Hometown," which he submitted to a nationwide competition. It won the fi rst prize of P50.00 pesos. She proceeded, on to further schooling: receiving honors not just through her writing, but likewise through her academic and oratorical skills. Liberation arrived in early 1945: the country would return to normalcy. Ludy's parents decided to enroll her in Manila, the nation's capital, central site of the University of the Philippines. In eight semesters, she completed all requirements for her bachelor of science and arts degrees earned as a college scholar. That early university accomplishment led to her acceptance as a reporter on beat at the Manla Daily Bulletin in 1949; too, she contributed to other metropolitan publications. Even as a very young writer, Ludy considered the signifi cance of Valentine's Day were she to think of a life partner. On February 14, 1952, Ludy exchanged marriage vows with Hermie T. Ongkeko, class '51, the fi rst postwar class of the Philippine Military Academy whom she heard from in 1948. As an editor, he asked her to contribute to the cadet publication without ever meeting him. Writing has kept Ludy alive despite her widowhood. She lost her husband after a little over a six-decade marriage. Writing has remained her universe. She has been a columnist of the Philippine News, an almost 60- year old coast-to-coast weekly of which she has rendered a more than fi ve-decade affi liation; she is a regular contributor to TheFilAm, a New York monthly. Her late husband, was also a writer who, while in his homeland's active service's armed forces, authored several pieces on national renown. Ludy speaks six foreign languages, aside from eight Filipino homeland dialects, all different as night from day. As a mother of three, grandmother of six, and great grandmother of seven, Ludy has remained thankful that writing has remained a virtual plus of her life. She calls writing as a main challenge.