Filipinos on the Frontlines
By Kiana Marsan
Felix B. Magalong Sr.
October 17, 1918 - October 9, 2010
Although there are over 4 million Filipinx-Americans in the United States, their culture, languages, and traditions are rarely represented in predominantly white spaces and narratives.[1] Second and third-generation Filipinos must lean on the legacy left by those like Felix B. Magalong Sr., who prove that Asians are accomplished enough to serve both their country at large and communities at home.
Magalong was born on October 17, 1918 in the Philippines.[2] He lived with his parents, Roberto and Maria Blanca, in Baluyot, Pangasinan.[3] Located on the island of Luzon, this region is home to a diverse number of languages and primarily involved with rice, fish, and broom-making industries.[4] While he was the youngest of many children, only seven of his siblings grew up together.[5] In an impoverished country with high child mortality rates, this experience was the norm.[6]
“Life in the Philippines was difficult,” said Romeo Magalong, one of Felix’s sons. “He didn’t even go to school in shoes.”[7]
At age 14, Magalong quit school in pursuit of work. However, he struggled for several years to find a job in Manila, the country’s capital.[8] Faced with few options, the young man enlisted in the 45th Infantry of the Philippine Scouts in 1941.[9] The Scouts were a U.S. division made up of both American and Filipino service members. They were well-trained, professional units, and it was considered an honor to be accepted into their companies.[10]
The Philippine Scouts were brought together in 1899, following the Spanish-American War. Their military prowess was used to serve American agendas, as they suppressed rebel movements that fought against U.S. occupation. These skilled companies were undervalued and rewarded little for their efforts. They were led by American officers, equipped with outdated weapons and paid a third of what their white counterparts made. It was an effective and exploitative means of exerting control over Filipinos during what would become almost 50 years of colonization.[11]
During World War II, the Philippine Scouts were the first on the frontlines. In an infantry unit made up of thousands, they fought Japanese troops on the peninsula of Bataan. The fighting went on for several months, despite a lack of naval or air support for their outnumbered forces.[12]
In April of 1942, U.S. General Edward King Jr. surrendered. In what would become known as the Bataan Death March, thousands of prisoners of war—including Magalong—were forced to walk 65 miles to a Japanese concentration camp. Many were starved, beaten, or killed before the end of their journey.[13]
"Walking under the blistering heat of the April sun, we were a pathetic sight to behold. Coughs, sneezes, and groans were heard throughout the march,” Magalong wrote in an early 2000s essay for the Ex-POW Bulletin. “We were given no food or water the entire march, except for one occasion when several 32-gallon cans of spoiled cooked rice were served to us. We had to eat this rice or we would be killed.”[14]
When the survivors arrived at Camp O’Donnell in Capas, Tarlac, living conditions remained abhorrent. They slept in overcrowded barracks and were kept hungry and malnourished. Initially, Magalong’s detail was to take dying or dead prisoners to mass burial sites. He was able to get this changed, so he could work in the kitchen closer to the food. Eventually, he developed severe abdomen problems from the heat of the rice pots.[15]
“I felt helpless and frustrated,” Magalong wrote, continuing, “The thought came to me several times that it would have been better to die in Bataan so my parents would benefit from my pension.”[16]
After 266 days at the camp, Magalong was taken outside by Japanese soldiers. When they came to a fork in the road, the prisoner of war was unsure if he would be buried or freed. But after more than eight months of suffering, he was allowed to leave the concentration camp. His sister, Carmen, had bought his freedom for 135 Philippine pesos, the equivalent of a little under $3. When they were reunited, he barely weighed 77 pounds. He was suffering from malaria, beriberi, dysentery, malnutrition, and lice.[17]
The night before his release, the 24-year-old had dreamt of the Virgin Mary. Later, he described this as a saving grace and omen for better days to come.[18]
It took several months for Magalong to recover from his experiences at Camp O’Donnell. During this time, he met Sandra Iglesias Gloria and married her in December of 1943. Like Magalong, she had not finished high school. But she was a smart woman, fiscally responsible and value driven.[19] The couple had four children together, who were named Mary, Aurora, Romeo, and Felix B. Jr.[20]
The country remained steeped in poverty by 1944, so Magalong took advantage of an opportunity to re-enlist in the U.S. Army.[21] This gave him a path to American citizenship unavailable to many Filipinos, as the Philippine Independence Act of 1934 capped the number of migrants coming to the U.S. at 50 persons per year. Exemptions were only made for those who had military service under their belt, like Magalong.[22]
His children were granted the same status of U.S. citizenship. However, the family decided their mother would raise them in the Philippines. This saved them the instability of moving between military stations, as he went as far as Okinawa, Japan, Hawaii, and the continental U.S. It wasn’t until his placement at Fitzsimons Army Medical Center in Aurora, Colorado that the family was reunited in 1961.[23]
“That first night, we stayed in a hotel and he talked to the kids,” remembered Romeo Magalong. “He wanted to impart on us that you can have a good life in the United States. But he also warned us that this country was materialistic and not to let our guards down.”[24]
Magalong’s career in the military lasted 30 years, and he finished with the rank of Captain. While his service during World War II was the most impactful experience of his service, he fought in the Korean War and took part in the military campaign of the Vietnam War as well. He earned over 10 medals, including the Bronze Star Medal, Asiatic-Pacific Theater Medal, and Prisoner of War Medal.[25]
Magalong received the honors he deserved—but for many Filipinos, this was not the case. Wanting to cut federal spending on the military, politicians passed the Rescission Act of 1946 in Congress. It outlined that Filipinos who had served in World War II were not to be granted the citizenship, benefits, or awards that the U.S. had promised. The U.S. government cited economic hardship and the country’s decolonization as their rationale. It is the only sweeping instance of the government revoking military status to an entire ethnic group of people.[26]
An initiative called the Filipino Veterans Recognition and Education Project worked for decades to advocate for a Congressional Gold Medal on behalf of Filipino WWII veterans. In Oct. 2017, the Obama administration granted these servicemen their overdue honors. Many, including Magalong, never got to see the medal awarded to them. It was awarded posthumously.[27]
Magalong had an active post-military life and career. After he retired from the military in 1971, he went back to school to get his GED and a degree in Sociology at Metropolitan State College (now MSU) in Denver. He worked pro-bono as a marriage counselor, and he volunteered his services as an interpreter and nursing home assistant.[28] At church, he was an usher with the local parish. In his free time, he enjoyed singing and devoted resources to helping other Filipino families through the immigration process.[29]
In 1982, he was elected President of the Filipino American Community of Colorado (FACC).[30] Founded in 1954, this group is one of the oldest Asian communities in the state and hosts opportunities for cultural preservation and community service. During his time with FACC, the size of their membership more than doubled.[31]
“You reach a point where you want to preserve the culture or share it,” said Romeo Magalong. “You want to instill the culture and values in younger generations. We taught Tagalog classes, Filipino dancing, and music. That’s what my dad believed in—community.”[32]
In addition to being a community leader, Magalong was successful at instilling these principles of family, culture, and education in his children. Almost all of them graduated college as first-generation students, and they went on to become engineers, teachers, government personnel, and servicemembers.[33] By the time of his death, he would have 12 grandchildren and 14 great-grandchildren.[34]
Almost every year since 2004, the family has traveled to White Sands Missile Range, New Mexico to run a 26-mile marathon in honor of the Bataan Death March. It has been their way of paying homage to a man who was influential to their development.[35]
“He gave us a much better life than they [Felix and Sandra] ever had,” said Romeo Magalong. “How do we continue that goal of wanting to improve for our children? Our parents succeeded in that respect, and that’s what I’m trying to emulate.”[36]
Magalong lived to the age of 91, dying on October 9, 2010.[37] Following the decorated veteran’s passing, his children established a scholarship in their parents’ names at MSU.[38] While Magalong is no longer with us, he was beloved by all—friends, family, and community—and his memory lives on through their work.