This author used to traipse around in four-inch stiletto heels, but throughout this pandemic, she’s been in combat boots—and in her battle dress as female battalion commander of an Army Ready Reserve unit

By Jan Chavez-Arceo

Life has a weird way of unraveling things to a person as he or she goes through life’s journey. For those who have known me only over the past six years, they probably know me as a uniformed officer of the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP), more specifically, an Army Reservist officer. That is because since I graduated from the National Defense College of the Philippines (NDCP), after which I was commissioned as an Army Reserve Officer with a lieutenant colonel rank in 2016, all that I have shown on my social media accounts has been mostly me in my military uniform in various military activities.

As a newly commissioned officer in 2017, I was always excited to wear the military uniform just like any new reservist or what many call a “soldier wannabe.” My favorite uniform is really the bush coat type, but for the past years of the pandemic, it is the Philarpat or battle dress uniform (BDU), referred to by civilians as the camouflage, that I have been accustomed to wearing. This is the prescribed uniform for combat operations or when the AFP is on red alert. Wearing this uniform with the mala-Doc Marten’s combat boots has become so normal and second nature to me that if before it took me two hours to dress up for a military operation, now I can do it in 30 minutes tops. I have gotten so used to it, and the need to wear it almost on a daily basis given our disaster response utilization or deployment. At one point during the height of the Joint Task Force TAAL operations, I had to share with my regular active officer classmates in our group chat that I finally understood what they meant when they used to talk about wearing their BDU over and over without washing it until it could already stand on its own! That sharing of course drew a lot of laughter and perhaps some level of respect, especially from the male officers, because it meant I had been truly “battle-tested” through the almost unending humanitarian assistance and disaster response operations I had led my 403rd KAAGAPAY Reserve Battalion since 2020. 

Wearing the uniform meant a lot of things for me at different levels. The authority to wear it symbolizes a level of accomplishment that may seem to be rather daunting for some. The privilege to wear it means I did not just complete my Master in National Security Administration (MNSA) from NDCP, it also means I have completed the highest military schooling known as the Command and General Staff Course (CGSC) and various other military trainings in between. To be part of the AFP General Staff Corps means one is “capable to plan, fit to command, and qualified to advise (the CSAFP or Commander In Chief).” It also reminds me that I am the first female battalion commander of the Army Ready Reserve unit in the Laguna province. It reminds me of the Bronze Cross medal, the SOLCOM’s 2021 Best Reservist award, the Warfighting, AFP Cyber Command Badge, and the other awards and commendations I have received since I first wore the fatigues for service rendered.

More important, wearing the uniform, for me, symbolizes having endured and overcome some of the most challenging and difficult tests of leadership and developed, as a result, interpersonal and relationship-building skills. It means having crawled through murky trench while being shot over my head with live ammo while in training, performed squat thrusts on gravel in pitch darkness, rapelled down a bridge and a four-story tower, and wargamed various scenarios with some of the best combat operators as groupmates. It also means I have overcome the skepticism of some of the most brilliant and fierce warriors of the Philippine military that I have had the honor and privilege of having as classmates, technical working groupmates, mentors, and brothers in uniform. Most of these are no-nonsense Alpha males who have stared death in the eyes and lived to tell the tale, not knowing that they would cross paths with a woman like me who used to traipse around the Metro in four-inch stiletto heels, red lipstick, and whose first stop in the mornings before her first meeting is the salon to get a blowdry service. A woman who has traded those heels for the chunky combat boots.

Wearing this uniform means having crawled through murky trench while being shot over my head with live ammo, performed squat thrusts on gravel in pitch darkness, rapelled down a four-story tower, and wargamed various scenarios with some of the best combat operators.

Even more important, the privilege to wear the uniform sends a strong message that a woman like me has been given the honor and opportunity to serve my people and my country in an almost similar capacity as those men and women who have dedicated their whole lives as professional soldiers in the service of defending and securing our people and our land even at the cost of their lives.