By Ricky J. Bautista
IT WAS A DAY unlike any other at the 8th Infantry “Stormtroopers” Division, Philippine Army. The hum of military activity at Camp Vicente Lukban in Catbalogan City paused for a moment of sheer excitement. Forget combat drills or tactical maneuvers—Wednesday, May 7, 2025, was all about… laundry.
Yes, you read that right. The grand inauguration of the most anticipated (and possibly the most important) facilities of the year was finally here: the Laundry Station and the Water Refilling Station. Major General Adonis Ariel G. Orio, the commander of the 8ID, had gathered his troops, generals, and yes, the odd civilian or two (possibly confused by the lack of combat), for a ribbon-cutting ceremony of epic proportions.
But wait, before you think this was just another dull military affair, let’s be clear: this was drama in the making.
Picture this: a full battalion of battle-hardened soldiers standing at attention, their uniforms crisp and ironed (well, most of them), waiting for the day their deepest, most secret military desires would finally be fulfilled. No, it wasn’t a new tank or an advanced weapon system. It was clean socks.
As Maj. Gen. Orio took the stage, his voice steady and serious, it was clear he wasn’t just talking about washers and dryers. “These stations are not just services,” he said, his tone a mix of pride and mystery.
“They are symbols of care, efficiency, and, most importantly, the heroic effort to provide our soldiers with the cleanest laundry in all of Samar.”
Cue dramatic music.
The crowd of soldiers gasped, some wiping imaginary tears from their eyes. Could it be? Had the day finally arrived when they wouldn’t have to scrub their fatigues with rainwater and a bar of soap?
Meanwhile, the water refilling station, equipped with a state-of-the-art filtration system (which, to be honest, might just be more advanced than some of their weaponry), promised clean drinking water on demand. No more mystery taste of “weapons-grade” tap water from the old pipes. This was next-level hydration. The soldiers exchanged hopeful glances—no more rationing water just to avoid dehydration.
Maj. Gen. Orio continued with passion, his words echoing through the air, “This initiative is a commitment to ensuring that no soldier has to worry about their basic needs. You focus on the mission—we will handle the laundry and hydration.”
And then, the grand reveal: Nine—count ’em, nine fully operational washers and dryers, all lined up in a row like the perfect lineup of soldiers. The sight brought a tear to many an eye. Who could blame them? Gone were the days of dirty boots and mismatched uniforms. Now, there was only… perfection.
For the soldiers, it felt like a new era of comfort and convenience had dawned. The fear of wearing socks with holes, or worse—battle-ready uniforms with stains—was over.
But the drama didn’t stop there. The water station? Oh, it wasn’t just a water station—it was a “lifeline” to those parched souls who had spent one too many days in the heat. As the water poured from the shiny new spouts, soldiers rushed forward, cups in hand, as though they’d just crossed the desert and discovered an oasis.
“Free of charge,” Maj. Gen. Orio declared, “For both military personnel and civilian human resources. Because we know, the battle isn’t just fought in the field. It’s fought in the laundry room and with every drop of water we drink!”
The ceremony ended with a dramatic flourish, the ribbon cut, and a chorus of cheers from the soldiers who, for once, weren’t chanting about missions but about getting their laundry done with speed and style.
After all, if you can conquer laundry and water, what’s left to conquer?
Photo credits: PFC Barrantes & PFC Bulan, of the 8th Infantry Division
