Lonely Winds

A PHILIPPINE HISTORY NOVEL

LONELY WINDS

Inspired by Historical Facts and Events

Written by:

Neal Allen Laurente

 

 

 

 

 

 

I dedicate this novel to God, my family, friends, super-friends, batch mates, and formators.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

     "I REALIZE WHAT A TERRIBLE TASK has given me. And yet I felt that this is the most glorious moment of my life. What I do is done for my country. No sacrifice can be too great." The hostile leader had read it on the diary partially soaked with blood from the fallen young general's body beside of his lifeless white horse. The face of the dead general was very youthful, and that it was like so unjust for him to be killed that way. Blood was oozing from the hole on his neck. His service hat laid three meters away from his head. Other American soldiers were there with their leader, enjoying every moment of their victory around the poor corpse. A battle between ignorance and sympathy emerged from the mind of the hostile leader, but the former dominated against the latter, because his victory was just a little step to fulfill the agendas of Uncle Sam.

     Power.

     Respect.

     Honour.

 

*          *          *          *          *

     MY NAME IS REYNALDO GOMEZ, a proud Filipino soldier from my beloved city of Kawit, Cavite, a place where Gen. Aguinaldo lived, and a place of a great history. My father Jose died in honour together with other Filipino soldiers and Spaniards defending the coasts of Manila Bay from the Americans. When he was still alive, he was always telling me that I must learn to love my country, and do whatever it must be to preserve peace. From my childhood, he didn't forget to remind me about God, to trust Him always, and do His will. My faith in God was so strong, that I was always in confidence in praying to him. That was before, until the day of my father's death came. I blamed God for what happened, but at the same time, asked Him for His comfort.

My wife, Florentina Gomez, was staying at home together with my son Joselito Gomez. Florentina was selling tinapa for a living, and to sustain my son in second grade. I, as a father, was raising chickens at the backyard to fill our stomachs every day. We were enjoying our life and contented with what we have, until I must depart from home because of my desire to give justice for the death of my father. I volunteered to be a soldier against the Americans. We were responsible for the safety of Gen. Aguinaldo who desperately escaped to the northern lands from the Americans. Unending hope and optimism unfolded from their hearts, that they may still see me at the door of our house.