
BY MA. THERESA LADIAO and PIA ALYSSA GELADA, West Visayas State University Intern
IN THE quiet expanse of the Balantang Memorial Cemetery National Shrine in Jaro, Iloilo City, a solemn tribute unfolded. Yesterday, March 18, was the 80th anniversary of the Liberation of Panay, Guimaras, and Romblon. Among the wreaths and ceremonial salutes stood Dr. Engelbert Peralta, the son of a war hero, carrying a story not just of battlefield triumphs but of an unbreakable bond forged in the fires of war.
His father, General Macario Peralta Jr., is a name etched in history — a military strategist whose leadership in the Panay Resistance Movement turned the island into an unyielding bastion against Japanese occupation during World War 2. While many surrendered following the fall of Bataan and Corregidor, Peralta chose defiance. From the mountains, he orchestrated guerrilla operations, built an underground government, and maintained critical communication with Allied forces, laying the foundation for liberation.

But in the shadow of his father’s wartime brilliance stood another hero — his mother Natividad.
A Woman of War
Dr. Peralta’s voice carried reverence as he spoke of her unwavering resolve. Unlike many families who fled to safety, she insisted on staying beside her husband, embracing the same perils that threatened the resistance.
“My grandfather wanted my brother to be taken to safer areas, but my mother wouldn’t allow it,” he shared. “When the guerrilla organization was formed after General Christie surrendered, she insisted on staying and playing her part.”
Her part, it turned out, was indispensable. She was a nurse, tending to the wounded in makeshift jungle clinics. She was a cook, ensuring that the resistance fighters had something — anything — to eat. And she was a beacon of warmth in the cold uncertainty of war.
“At midnight, when they sent out radio transmissions, my mother would be there — after hours of work — waiting with cookies she baked from jungle roots and coconut sugar,” Dr. Peralta recalled. “The soldiers never forgot her kindness, especially in times of hunger.”
Her role, however, was not limited to caregiving. The war demanded more from her — more than most women of her time would be asked to give. Twice, she narrowly escaped death. And while General Peralta imposed strict discipline among his fighters, he made one exception for her.
“He told her, ‘This is my bestie. Defend yourself. I cannot always be with you,’” Dr. Peralta recounted. The general handed her a revolver, a symbol of both protection and trust. She carried that gun for the rest of her life.
The High Cost of Freedom
As Dr. Peralta painted vivid memories of his parents’ wartime ordeal, his stories veered beyond personal history. He spoke of the sheer brutality that engulfed Panay — the ambushes, the retaliations, the massacres.
“They came here for religion, for Jesus Christ, and they found themselves being killed,” he said, referring to the American missionaries who perished alongside Filipinos in the indiscriminate violence of war.
The suffering was universal, the sacrifices immeasurable. Yet, through it all, his parents endured — not just for survival, but for a cause greater than themselves.
A Legacy That Lives On
As the wreaths lay still in the memorial shrine, Dr. Peralta’s words lingered — a powerful reminder that war heroes are not always those who wield weapons on the battlefield. Sometimes, they are the ones who endure in silence, who support from the shadows, who hold a family together when the world is crumbling.
The names of General Macario Peralta Jr. and his wife Natividad may be immortalized in history, but their true legacy lives not in books, nor in memorials, but in the freedom secured through their sacrifice — and in the stories their son continues to tell./PN