Boac had grown very busy. The quaintness I once loved about it was gone. I could no longer hear the birds, drowned out by the shouting and the thumping boots of the recruits in the plaza, and the sound of sawing and hammering from the buildings being constructed.
The town streets had been taken over by roving bands of civilian patrolmen and supply carts cluttering in and out of town.
Nor could I smell the scent of the sea anymore, with all the carabao droppings littering the streets. Someone had paid the town kids to deal with it, but the kids, being kids, weren't exactly efficient.
It reminded me of Malolos. And perhaps we were the only place in the Philippines, far from the frontlines, that was this busy. I don't think the other generals had been as aggressive as I was.
