The Price and Challenges of Heroism: A Review of 'Dauntless' by Marie S. Vallejo
Dauntless reveals the forgotten heroism of Filipino soldiers who fought—and bled—for freedom in World War II.
Published on Dec 21, 2025
As 2025 draws to a close, so does the 80th commemoration of the Second World War’s end, marked by the Soviet victories in Berlin and Prague and the American atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. While solemn testimonials, parades, and commemorations have been promoted and upheld by various governments, especially those of the victorious Allied Powers, the year’s intended significance is often overshadowed by the wax and wane of geopolitical tremors, discontents, alignments, and misalignments. It is easy, then, to get lost in the fog and even to question whether the sacrifices of those who shed their blood were worth it, given the present trajectory and direction of all that was once considered fundamental and sacrosanct.
Despite this volatile climate, historian Marie S. Vallejo sets the record straight, highlighting a largely forgotten chapter of national history, especially for younger generations distant from the war’s realities. In Dauntless: The 1st & 2nd Filipino Infantry Regiments, United States Army, first published in 2023, she painstakingly stitched together archival research, interviews, and recently declassified material to present the full chronicle of the 1st and 2nd Filipino Infantry Regiments, which bled and fought alongside American forces in their quest to liberate the Philippines from the clutches of Imperial Japan.
For too long, the existence of both formations has been murky at best and treated as a footnote at worst. Alongside this retelling, Vallejo’s work is deeply personal. The decorated Lt. Colonel Saturnino R. Silva was her father, and the book becomes a vehicle through which the sacrifices and suffering of men like him are brought into broader public recognition. As Vallejo told me during an impromptu chat months ago, her objective is to give meaning to—and make sense of—the cause for which her father’s generation gave their lives, labor, and time, ensuring that their sacrifices are not forgotten.
Lt. Colonel Silva, much like his peers who are of Filipino lineage, were always treated by the dominant American sensibility of that period as de facto second-class citizens. They were unable to marry as they please and were at the receiving end of racial discrimination and hatred. In the unstable 1930s, during the most destructive years of the Depression, minorities were used as scapegoats by nativist and racialist agitators. This extended at the zenith of The New Deal of FDR, though animosities were less pronounced as economic recovery did lift the country from its stupor.
Nonetheless, this did not stop Silva’s generation from serving and proving their worth, a commitment that extended to those who joined the 442nd Infantry Regiment, the 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion, the 761st Tank Battalion, and the Tuskegee Airmen, to name a few. Tribulations and hardships aside, they persevered, carried on, and plunged their fortunes into the unknown in defense of a nation and an ideal. Instead of doing nothing, or worse, becoming willing accomplices of the Axis—as had occurred with others who witnessed the hypocrisy of Britain, France, and America—and took this as a sign to embrace the fascist tide as a counterweight.
Lt. Colonel Silva, in particular, was involved in many covert operations and raids throughout the Philippines, and it is reasonable to opine that these activities would not have been possible without the involvement of the Office of Strategic Services (OSS) and MacArthur’s personal espionage networks. While the arrival of the Americans would not occur until much later, Allied submarines routinely dispatched personnel, ammunition, weapons, and vital information to the guerrillas. While the groups themselves were divided along individual, regional, and even political lines, as was the case with the HUKBALAHAP, whose aims extended beyond the expulsion of the invaders, their role as saboteurs and partisans was indispensable, to the point that the Japanese were only able to control 12 out of 48 provinces with certainty. By constantly invoking this episode, a human angle and dimension of the war is demonstrated, where allegiances at the grassroots level are more porous and flexible than those of commanders operating from the heights and the steeple.
When I perused the monograph, I found no issues of accuracy or detail, since it has been a passion project for Vallejo for many years. The pace and motion of the retelling are crisp and sharp, its diction flows seamlessly, and its length, while daunting to the uninitiated, has never been a challenge. It shows the highs and lows of the two detachments without apology, disclaimers, or reluctance. Thus, it belongs to a school of history whose purpose is to lay out the facts on the ground, nothing more and nothing less.
This is where things do get interesting. The scholarly work of Vallejo, in my point of view, will not be measured by debates regarding who did this or that, what minutiae were left out or excessively focused on, or which parts were omitted or included. Instead, I have had this rumination sitting in my head for months: how to make this account legible, relatable, and impactful to generations whose exposure to the Second World War is largely from textbooks, newsreels, and academic tedium?
With this, some answers can be offered. The spate and prominence of the World War II genre from the 1990s until the late 2000s is specifically tethered to the relative calm, by today’s standards, following the fall of the USSR and the end of the Cold War’s bipolar structure. It is not coincidental that Stephen E. Ambrose’s Band of Brothers, Saving Private Ryan, Medal of Honor, The Pacific, and Call of Duty, to name a few, were at their peak in an era when the main preoccupation was why the veterans who experienced the horrors and glory of World War II became the founders of today’s relative stability and prosperity. The family of Lt. Colonel Silva and his unit were, after all, recipients of the GI Bill and the economic boom of the 1950s, which also created the ferment for civil rights in the 1960s and 1970s. The narratives of triumph, determination, and bravery of those who brought about this bounty are apparent and obvious.
Fast forward 20 years, specifically after the economic crash of 2007 to 2009 and its ramifications into the 2010s, the World War II spirit has been diluted. It is seen as a mere ritual, and in more radical corners of the Internet, a tired refrain. The emergence of people such as American activist Nick Fuentes, and the Gaza siege and slaughter, are siren calls of the present order’s convulsions. To be reminded of what transpired between 1939 to 1945, at least in the West, is less close to anyone’s gut when everybody’s life is falling apart.
Still, in the East, both in Moscow and Beijing, their choice to blare their own stake in World War II is a confirmation of their dedication to uphold its flame, while also functioning as the obverse of the exhausted West, their own discontents notwithstanding. One can also point to the educational curriculum’s hollowness, not only in updating itself with new information, but also in considering for whom education generally is, specifically that of history.
The prevailing sentiment or interpretation of history since 1945 is either that it must serve as a cautionary tale, or that its arc bends toward an ideal, be it justice, righteousness, peace, or happiness. These aspirations and ruminations had their time and place. An alternative to these hollow syllogisms is thus needed.
History, rather than a lament or a sermon, is simultaneously a foxhole, a factory, and a furnace all at once. It is rocket fuel, a launchpad, and a gambit before the edge of tomorrow. It is both gift and curse, burden and inheritance, and is always tethered to the whims of Fate, which can affirm those who will accept its challenge, or drag those who do not.
The men who bled for the 1st and 2nd Filipino Infantry Regiments, even if they were never scholars or intellectuals, carried that instinct within them. For they do not need to be familiar with Nietzsche, Marx, or Kant to do what must be done. Their conviction is aligned with the greater impulse to reject the rule of the wolves that the Fascists anointed as human nature, and to partake in this crusade to finally win the peace that they, their families, and future generations can enjoy and witness.
And in an age of uncertainty, trepidation, and disquiet, Lt. Colonel Silva’s sigil, grit, and cunning will not only be indispensable; they will be necessary, for today and tomorrow.