Without Walls or Bars
A prison on the hills of Camarines

For a reporter covering the human rights beat, talking to torture victims and interviewing political prisoners in various detention centers in Manila, visiting the prisoners of war held captive by the New People’s Army (NPA) gives one distinct impression: The NPA’s mobile prison does not seem like a prison at all. 

BY DABET CASTAÑEDA
Bulatlat

Media men have a field day photographing former prisoners of war 
and their captors, the Romulo Jallores Command of the NPA 
Photo by Dabet Castañeda

SOMEWHERE IN CAMARINES SUR – The group of media men given the exclusive chance to cover the release of the two prisoners of war (POWs) held for five months and 18 days by the Romulo Jallores Command of the New People’s Army (NPA) arrived at the NPA camp at around 3 p.m. Aug. 17. It was after a seven-hour trip from Manila to the province of Camarines Sur, including a two-and-a-half-hour rough road drive from the capital city followed by an hour’s walk. 

A young woman guerilla instinctively offered everyone a seat in a makeshift tent.  A stretcher made of tangub wood and white rice sack – the most inviting place to rest on – was the tent’s centerpiece, literally placed between the floor made of young bamboo and the blue tarpaulin which served as its roof.

“Hindi ko alam kung paano ko pasasalamatan ang mga kasama sa pagkakagawa nila ng higaan ko” (I can’t find the words to express my gratitude to the comrades for fashioning a bed for me), said one reporter, hinting that he would occupy the centerpiece.

When the media team had finally settled down, steaming hot coffee (the province’s version of kapeng barako, the famous brewed coffee of Batangas, in Southern Luzon) and fried cookies were served for snacks.  “Those (improvised cookies) were supposed to be doughnuts but we used the wrong recipe,” the young woman guerilla apologized. A few minutes after, the members of the press were finally allowed to meet the much-awaited subject of their coverage – Army 1Lt. Ronaldo A. Fedelino and Pfc. Ronel Nemeño. The Army soldiers surrendered to the NPA after their unit, a 50-man strong Special Operations Team (SOT) of the 42nd Infantry Battalion of the Philippine Army (IB PA), was ambushed last March 1 in Tamban village, municipality of Tinambac, this province.

The doughnuts they intended to cook in this improvised kitchen  ended up as fried cookies. Photo by Dabet Castañeda

Captured

Wearing almost identical white shirts, gray pants and new pairs of leather slippers, Fedelino and Nemeño were inside a makeshift tent similar to that of the media’s temporary abode except that inside were two stretchers, one for Butch, Fedelino’s nickname, and the other for one of his close-in guards, 27-year-old Ka (comrade) Jerlyn.

The two POWs were barraged with questions from the media while members of the NPA custodial force (CF) maintained their distance while keeping a tight watch on their wards just the same.

The team leader of the CF who introduced himself to the media as Ka Russel said Butch and Ronel, Nemeño’s nickname, were given relative freedom of movement while in captivity.  “Para nga silang mga bakasyunista” (They seem like they were merely on vacation), he told the reporters.

Handcuffs

Placing a handcuff on Butch, the Red commander explained, became a necessity when his close-in security reported to the CF command that Butch had tried to bribe him in exchange for a chance to escape. Butch denied the allegation but Ka Russel said it had actually happened twice.

But the handcuffs, which Butch requested to be wrapped in cloth as he developed an allergy, were put only from 6 p.m. to 8 a.m.  It was also taken off when he eats, washes up, and answers the calls of nature.  His hands were free throughout the day, said Ka Russel. 

Butch, according to his seven-man close in security, was always snappy, a distinct trait of an army officer.  But he also had a short temper, they added. 

During the first two months of his captivity, he would sometimes shout at his custodians for no apparent reason.  “Akala nya kumander pa rin sya dito sa kampo” (He thinks he is a commanding officer even in this [NPA] camp), one of them said.

He would also not talk to his custodians if he thought they were “merely regular NPA guerillas,” a mentality of superiority he acquired from the army, Ka Russel explained. 

At first, Butch also denied he was an army officer.  Ka Russel said Butch introduced himself as a corporal but the CF became doubtful because he was carrying an M203.

Upon further interrogation, Butch later claimed he was a sergeant to which one of his custodians replied, “Magmula ngayon, promoted ka na bilang first lieutenant” (From now on, we are promoting you to the rank of 1^st lieutenant). 

Caught flat-footed by his custodians’ statement, Butch could not hide his anxiety, Ka Russel said.  “Namula sya” (He blushed), Ka Russel said, adding that the CF had already confirmed from the radio that their captive was an army junior officer. 

Despite his attempts to fool his captors, the CF remained patient with Butch, Ka Russel said.  “Sanay makihalubilo ang mga kasama” (Comrades are used to relating with different kinds of people), said Ka Russel.  But he added, “We would point out the problems with his attitude and would assure him that he could also tell us our shortcomings,” Ka Russel added. 

The custodians said it was only then that Butch became more at ease. 

“We have become friends,” Butch would often tell reporters when asked about his feelings towards his custodians.  “They treated us like human beings.”

Butch and Ronel play chess with their custodians, listen to the radio, and play the guitar. They were even allowed to hold the bolo (long knife) when opening coconuts, Ka Russel added.

More lenient

Ronel had his own tent, about 20 meters away from Butch’s.  Instead of a stretcher, he had a hammock made of tefeta (soft) cloth.  “This is where I sleep,” he said.

The custodians and their captive looked liked a bunch of good friends, singing and laughing together, as if they did not come from warring camps.

Every day, according to Ka Russel, Butch and Ronel were given medical check-up. Each were allotted one pack of cigarettes daily.

While in custody, Ronel, a vocalist of the 42^nd IB PA, learned a revolutionary love song, “Rosas ng Digma” (Roses of War) which, he said, he would sing to his fiancée as soon as he is released. 

The CF admitted that they were more lenient with Ronel.  “He was more cooperative,” said Ka Russel, “and besides, there is no case against him.” The Romulo Jallores and the Nancy San Juan Commands filed, under a people’s court, cases of massacre and sexual abuse, among others, against Butch.  (related article: Freed POW Could Have Faced People's Court ;Army lieutenant denied charges of massacre, sexual abuse)

A young soldier at 24, Ronel has been enlisted in the army for only two years, doing mostly office work.  The military operation on March 1 was his first. 

He comes from a peasant family in Mindanao. He has been the family breadwinner ever since he worked as a service crew for a popular fastfood chain in Manila. 

His custodians related that Ronel took care of some orchids during his earlier days as a captive.  The flowers wilted when they moved a lot to evade the hot pursuit operations conducted by the military. 

He also took care of four parakeets, small bright green and yellow birds, which the villagers called kulasisi (literally, mistress).  Two of the birds he reserved for himself, the other two were for his officer, Butch. 

His custodians also admitted that Ronel’s handcuffs were taken off when Butch was not looking. 

“Kasama pala ako sa pinaglilingkuran ninyo” (So I am part of the people whom you are serving), Ronel supposedly told his captors after a brief discussion regarding the work of the NPA.  Both Butch and Ronel were invited to attend discussions on the Comprehensive Agreement on Respect for Human Rights and International Humanitarian Law (Carhrihl).

Human barricade

Members of the custodial force had dark rings around their eyes.

“Twenty-four hours ang security namin” (Our security is up 24 hours a day), Ka Russel said. “Wala kaming de-rehas na kulungan kaya ang close-in security ang nagsisilbing barikada” (We have no jails, our security forces serve as human barricade).

The humane treatment of POWs is an imperative because of the protocols of war but that did not mean that the custodial force put down their guard. “Doble alerto nga kami” (We are on double alert), said Ka Russel. 

“Kinabahan talaga kami nung una,” said Ka Jerlyn, “pero pagkatapos ng limang buwan, napatunayan namin na kaya naming humawak ng mga bihag.” (We were anxious at first due to inexperience but after nearly six months, we found out we can handle prisoners.) Bulatlat

Back to top

We want to know what you think of this article.