When you enter the military service, you must be prepared to die for your country. In the Philippines, military life is often short-lived, because for the past five years, almost every day, at least one soldier is killed in combat duty. Today, the lowest-ranking soldier earns a little more than eight thousand a month. To some of us, that is even less than what we pay for the latest mobile phone. Yet, for that amount, a foot soldier signs on the dotted line, a contract to die for the sake of the motherland and his countrymen.

We seldom talk about our soldiers as people. Ask the youth about heroism and they will tell you about Flor Contemplacion, Sarah Balabagan and the hordes of Filipinos leaving to work abroad. The Filipino soldier is an authentic national hero who is often taken for granted by the people he serves. Listen to the voices of three soldiers who received the medal of valor. To earn this award, he or she must have been involved in actual conflict with armed enemies, exhibiting gallantry and intrepidity while risking life above and beyond the call of duty.

First Lt. Herbert Dilag, the Philippine Army: Nagising kami 2 a.m., lakad na naman kami. Wala kaming tulog talaga, pagkatapos maulan pa. Mabagal yung lakad kasi walang daanan pagkatapos magubat. There are instances na iyung isang kamay namin nakahawak sa ugat ng kahoy, iyong isa bumabaril. For the next 24 hours, tiniis namin yung terrain, hunger, tension, fatigue. Pagkatapos marinig mo yung halinghing ng wounded na kasama mo na magsasabi: Sir, atras na tayo, masakit na paa ko, Sir, mabubuhay pa ako, mga ganoon. Lalong lumabas ang hindi nadidiskubre na tapang sa loob namin.

MSG Roy Cuenca: Pagdating ko sa detachment, ugali ko kasi na nagsisindi ng kandila sa maliit kong altar. Pagbalik ko doon, nakita ko nakabaluktot ang kandila ko, kinabahan ako. Ginawa ko, nagsindi naman ako ng isa, mga ilang minuto nagkaganun na naman. Ah, sabi ko, iba na ito. Mga alas tres ng madaling araw, bigla na lang may pumutok. LimaPAK!PAK!PAK!PAK!PAK! Yung isang rifle grenade pumasok sa bunkers ko. Nakadapa ako. Wala na akong ibang tinawag. God, tulungan mo naman ako. Bahala ka na sa buhay ko, sana takpan mo ako sa kamay mo.

Major Sorilito Sobejana: We develop a brotherhood, hindi ko sila itinuturing na tauhan ko. I treat them as my younger brothers, though most of them are older than me. Masakit sa akin, dahil bago siya mamamatay, sabi niya, Sir, kahit anong mangyari, iparating mo ang katawan ko sa pamilya ko. Over the last ten years, a Filipino soldier dies every other day. If the peace process in Mindanao succeeds, they would have one less battlefront to worry about.

Meanwhile, the propaganda war by their enemies continues unabated through media and in Congress. In that battle of wits, the Filipino soldier is at the losing end. We dont see their faces contort in pain as bullets stop their heart from beating. We cant hear their widows weeping. Yet in the loneliest of barracks, far removed from our sedentary, comfortable lives, a soldier fights our wars for us. God knows them well by their prayers. Very few of us notice them at all. And perhaps this is why we keep on fighting the same wars, because we are so absorbed by our own lackadaisical existence that we conveniently forget how fragile it all is.