An Advocate for Filipino Comrades
By Kiana Marsan
Godofredo “Fred” S. Gomez
March 5, 1923 - September 27, 2006
It is no small task to occupy the role of both veteran and advocate. But their calls to service are similar. Both are patriotic acts that strive to better the country which one calls home. One man in particular, named Godofredo “Fred” S. Gomez, shows how the two intersect. He put his heart into standing in solidarity with his Filipino comrades. Gomez was born on March 5, 1923 in the Philippines.[1] His parents were school teachers, and he was the youngest of three children. His family grew up in Argao, Cebu.[2] This region thrives in farming, baking, and tourism industries. They produce chocolate and vinegar, and the townspeople hold an annual Pitlagong festival in honor of their patron saint.[3]At the age of 18, he was drafted for the U.S. Armed Forces in the Far East (USAFFE) in November of 1941.[4] At the time, he had been in the ROTC at University of the Visayas.[5]
He was one of many who were rapidly inducted into USAFFE in response to growing international tensions in the Pacific Theater. The Philippine’s defense force stood at a meager few thousand before World War II.[6] This was the result of U.S. colonization, which lasted from 1898 to 1946 after Spain lost the Spanish-American War and ceded the country. The U.S. desired economic influence in Asia, and they were concerned that another Western power would take control.[7] This meant that in the decades preceding World War II, there had not been a military amassed in the Philippines for any purposes other than securing occupation of the islands.[8]
Under the command of General Douglas MacArthur, USAFFE brought several divisions of soldiers together. While these servicemen were mostly Filipino, their labor often went unappreciated and undervalued. They were led by American officers, equipped with outdated weapons and paid a third of what their white counterparts made.[9]
Only a few weeks after Gomez had been admitted, Japanese troops invaded the Philippines. Gomez was assigned to the 81st division of the Headquarters Company, joining the guerilla movement.[10] Initially started by farmers left without protection in rural areas, it turned into an underground network of both soldiers and civilians who used the varied topography of the country to their advantage during the war.[11]
“When Manila fell, his commanding officer gave them two options to either surrender or flee,” said Giselle Gomez, his daughter. “He chose to join the Cebu guerrilla movement to be close to his family. He visited them surreptitiously under the cloak of darkness.”[12]
Gomez was called to the Battle of Leyte in October of 1944, the largest naval battle of the war. This conflict was the culmination of USAFFE’s efforts to regain U.S. control over the Philippines, devastating Japanese fleets and making later victories possible.[13]
After World War II, Gomez was honorably discharged from the military in 1946. He continued as a civilian employee until 1948, working as a court stenographer while he finished his degree in accounting.[14] After he left the military, for decades, he climbed the bureaucratic ladder until he became an administrative officer for the Philippine department of tourism.[15]
He met a young woman named Leonor Morales, and the two married in December of 1950. They had five children together named Gary, Geoffrey, Giselle, Gina, and Glenn and settled in Quezon City.[16] In his free time with them, Gomez loved to sing and dance. His favorite song was “I Did It My Way” by Frank Sinatra.[17]
By the early 1970s, the family had immigrated to San Francisco, California in search of better opportunities. He worked as the staff secretary for the State of California’s engineer office, running the department until he retired in 1995.[18
By the following year, he began lobbying Congress to pass an equity bill that would undo the Rescission Act of 1946.[19] This legislation 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 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.[20]
"[Filipino veterans] are heroes in the real sense of the world, considering the many sacrifices, ordeals, and sufferings that we underwent for the sake of freedom and democracy in a war not of our choosing," said Gomez during an interview with his granddaughter. "We fought, and many of us died, side by side with the American soldiers in that same war."[21]
For his extended work advocating on behalf of Filipino veterans, in 2003, Gomez was appointed to the Veteran Affairs Commission in San Francisco.[22] As a result of his involvement, the Board of Supervisors passed resolutions from 2003 to 2006 pressuring the state and federal government to support the cause for a Filipino equity bill.[23]
“He felt compensation was owed to him and his comrades who fought and suffered during the war,” said Giselle Gomez. “He always fought for the underserved.”
None of the legislation which he personally endorsed made its way to passage, as anti-immigrant sentiment abounded among Republican Congressmen and they were opposed to spending tax dollars on reparations for Filipinos. In some cases, the legislation was misrepresented as taking away from the benefits of veterans as a whole.[24] But in 2009, the WWII Filipino Veterans Equity Compensation (FVEC) Fund was established. On a national scale, this provided reparations to those who had been denied benefits to apply for a one-time payment of $9000 or $15,000.[25]
Gomez finished his career in the military with the rank of Captain.[26] Posthumously, through the work of a group called the Filipino Veterans Recognition and Education Project, he received the Congressional Gold Medal.[27] He died on Sep. 27, 2006 of heart failure, living to the age of 93. On his headstone, it reads: “I fought a good fight, kept the faith, and won.”[28]