John's Story

John wrote me a few years ago expressing an interest in telling his own story of Filipina love. It's a tale that begins during the turbulent days of the Vietnam war and ends on a tragic note some twenty years later. But there is plenty of love evident in the intervening years, and the narrative concludes with words of gratitude, hope, and promise...

My Story

I will begin with biographical information about myself. I am 55 years old, retired from the Marine Corps in 1985, and now work for the Army in South Korea as a computer programmer. I have lived or worked in the Philippines, South Korea, Hong Kong, Panama, and Vietnam (wartime). I am of average looks and average mentality, no Don Juan or Einstein. Just a plain ordinary working Joe.

I graduated from Marine Corps boot camp in August of 1962 and found myself headed to the Philippines. My first duty assignment was at Sangley Point Naval Air Station – Cavite. Sangley Point NAS closed in 1974 or so. I was extremely lucky to have had my Sergeant Major – SgtMaj Rocke – take me under his week when it came to the ville (going off post). SgtMaj Rocke made sure that every time I left Sangley Point for the first two weeks, I was not alone. One of the more experienced Marines always accompanied the new Marines off post. I actually did not take my solo flight into Cavite until the last week in September 1962. What a rush!!!!!!!!!!

Sometime in late October of 1962, I was off duty for the entire weekend for the first time. So I headed to the far end of the ville section of Cavite with the intention of drinking my way back to the post. The first place that I went into was a Filipino beer only joint with just two girls in it. I have long since forgotten the name of the place. It was an open-air beer bar much like the beer bars in Thailand. The closest thing to it now in Angeles City is the outdoor TQ. There was an older Filipina behind the bar and two very young Filipinas sitting at the bar – both looked frightened, even terrified. I was stunned at the natural beauty of these two young ladies. Both the girls were wearing Levi’s and T-shirts, which was actually unusual in those days. Neither spoke English nor was my Tagalog past pathetic then. I went back to the Post Exchange and purchased my first English-Tagalog dictionary.

The next day (Sunday), I returned to the bar an hour before it opened. Thus started the romance between John (me) and Cara. We talked through our dictionaries for the first month as I attempted to teach her English. Cara was 16 years old and her 15-year old companion was actually her 15-year old sister, Rosa. Cara and Rosa had been sold to the bar by her parents for the princely sum of $100.00 US. That was big money in 1962. The sale of young women to bars still goes on now despite what anyone tells you to the contrary. Where do these guys think the cherry girls in the bars come from? The telling of this story is essential that everyone understand the truth of how I met my wife-to-be. In 1962 there were no tourists in Cavite or Olongapo – just the military.

I visited the bar every chance I got for the next two month and helped both girls work on their English. I took them out to eat but everything was strictly social. At the same time, naturally, the bar mamasan was trying to sell their virginity every day. Somehow, between the three of us, we avoided having that happen. But it took most of my money just to keep the two of them from having to face that ordeal. But the money didn’t matter to me anymore. I was committed to Cara as well as taking care of Rosa. It came to pass that I bought dinner for the three of us every night. Bear in mind that my total take home pay in those days was $180.00 a month. Of course, a San Miguel was 3 pesos (exchange rate was 4 to 1). GI-Filipina romances were the rule of the day then and not the exception. The popular music was stuff like Chuck Berry - remember this was before the Beatles.

Just before Christmas, 1962, the three of us spent a Sunday looking for a ranch (slang for house) in Cavite. We found a place for $40.00 – dirt floor, outdoor toilet, rainwater shower – all common in those days in the Philippines. That night, I went to the bar in uniform (including a 45 cal pistol). I told Mamasan that she had two choices. Her first choice was to let me take Cara and Rosa out of the bar and her second choice was that we (Shore Patrol) would make the bar off-limits to all military. Of course, I was bluffing but Mamasan didn’t know it. After an hour of yelling and screaming – the girls were hiding behind the bar – Mamasan gave in to me.

For some of you, this next part will be hard to fathom. For the next two months, the three of us set up housekeeping with one large difference. I was not sleeping with Cara, not that I didn’t want to. Both of us were virgins so that added to the dilemma. Cara and I talked for hours on end about every subject that came to mind. Soon, her English was as good as mine if not better – no slang. Both Cara and Rosa now worked full time at straight jobs. Cara was waiting tables in a restaurant and Rosa was washing dishes in the same place. That brought in another $100.00 to the family fortunes. I knew something was missing from the relationship but I just didn’t know what it was. The girls were happy to be out of the bar and I was happy to be with them.

One night in mid February, I came home from the base as usual. But when I got there, no one was home or so I thought. The lights were off and candles were lit all over the place. No sign of either Cara or Rosa. I started to look around the ranch for the two of them when I noticed the bedroom door was slightly ajar. Boy, was I in for a surprise. “Honeyko, don’t come in here until you shower”. OK, I took a shower as I usually did when I got home from the base. When I went into the bedroom, I got the surprise of my young Marine life. There was a naked Filipina in my bed. Cara had decided that we had waited long enough to be together. No details will be given but it was the beginning of twenty years of bliss for Cara and me as well. We were both very nervous but that ended quickly. Her little sister, Rosa, came back after a couple and all she could do was giggle endlessly.

There was much less red tape in the 60’s in regards to marrying a Filipina and getting her to the States. After I got permission from my Commanding Officer and a quick counseling session with the Chaplain, Cara and I were married in May of 1963 on Sangley Point NAS. We were married in the Post Chapel with the Marine Barracks all present and accounted for. I wanted Cara to invite her parents to be there but she still wasn’t over the fact that her father had sold her to the bar. Later, she would reconcile with her parents but it did take a while for her to be able to do that.

Within 60 days of our marriage, I had orders to ‘Nam. Over the next five years, I commuted from Nam to the Philippines for R&R and leave. I kept extending my tour in Nam because Cara and I were able to save almost all my pay. During those five years, I managed to get home to Cavite enough to have two great sons. My oldest son was born in January 1964, and my youngest son was born in June 1965. When I wounded for the third time during the Tet offensive of 1968, I knew that I had used all my luck up and I decided it was time to go back to the real world.

I took leave from the hospital in Japan and picked up Cara, her sister Rosa, and my two little boys and we were off to the States. By then Rosa was engaged to a sailor and he helped me with the paperwork to get her to the States. Both Cara and Rosa took some time to adjust to life in the States but once they did, neither one of them ever expressed any interest in returning to the Philippines for anything but a vacation. Rosa eventually married her sailor and, to this day, they are still together with children and grandchildren. Cara put up with me playing Marine until 1985 when I retired.

Eighty-seven days after I retired from the Marines (August 12, 1985), Cara was heading home from her job on an Army base when a drunk driver hit her car head-on. Thankfully, Cara suffered no pain as she was killed instantly. I have good memories of my 22 years with Cara and I think of her often. I am now working for the Army as a civil servant and am on my second tour in South Korea. I return to the Philippines two or three times a year and every trip includes a stop in Baguio where Cara is buried. I have adjusted to life without Cara although I will admit that I have never quite accepted the way she died.

No man can ask for a better wife, mother, lover, or housekeeper than a Filipina. My wife spent her life taking care of the day to day matters so that I could be a full-time Marine. Will I marry again? I hope so and, if I do, it will be only to another Filipina.