Carlos P. Romulo
If you fix your eyes on the pages of history, you will come across the name of the soldier. His vocation is frought with the splendor of nobility. He has no parallel in the annals of human achievements. Monuments have been erected to his memory to perpetuate in the hearts of grateful nations a noble legacy – the inheritance of a great example.
But who is the Filipino soldier? History hardly records their valiant deeds on the fields of battle. The world knew little of his sufferings before the cruel miasma of death. Yet, who is the Filipino soldier? He is the fruition of prayers of a race once shrouded in the gloom of martyrdom! He is the incarnation of a nation’s ideals suppressed for ages! He is the survivor of the Bataan and Corregidor, of gallant columns that marched beneath the Filipino banner – that glorious flag bathed with the tears of mothers and drenched in blood of martyrs. He is the hero who stands for freedom, decided to vanquish the iniquitous stare of despots. He knows his responsibilities to his country and his God.
Yes, the Filipino fights, but he fights under the banner of freedom. He does not have the selfish ambitions of Julius Casaer! He does not have the imperial greed of Napoleon Bonaparte. He rises, radiant and resplendent blessed by a holy cause and holding high the Torch of Liberty.
You are a Filipino soldier. You are the descendant of a noble race, whose character has been tested in the severest trials and human afflictions and adversaries. Your memory wanders back to the past, and there, veiled in mystery, you are the glittering tears of the eyes of your weeping mothers, you see the sanctity of the honor of your country violated. But above all you see the ideals of your people enthroned forever!
Your country is a luminous diamond on the vast expense of Eternity. In her lies untold wealth with singing cataracts and laughing cascades coupled with golden sunsets with myriads stars