The First Sergeant

I was probably 6 years old when dad started to take me with him to work. I would ride in front of his Suzuki 125 motorcycle. It was always an exciting ride. The problem was that every time we were on our way home, I would easily fall asleep when I squint as the afternoon sun hurt my eyes. Often, dad would make a stop over along manila bay to wake me up. We would watch the sunset from there before we go home.

I remember, he was the first sergeant of the RDC GHQ AFP. During flag ceremony, he would stand at the middle and shout out commands to the troops; about a platoon in number if I remember right. I felt so proud. I knew I wanted to be like him when I grew up.

All the more the zeal to be a soldier flared up in me when my mother sewed a marine uniform for me and Dad sewed to it his previous insignia. It felt so great to wear that uniform…