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Back at Aniceto Mansion I borrowed a local phone book. There was only one listing under Donato - an Edilberto Donato. I called. Yes, he was Eddie Donato. He would pick us up in half an hour.

He arrived punctually and we introduced ourselves. He could have passed for a prosperous Chinese merchant. His graying hair was brushed straight back; his face unlined despite his 74 years. "When you asked about my war record," he said laughing, "I thought you were from the CIA."

He drove at walking pace through the narrow streets before stopping outside an old wooden house. He ushered us through the kitchen into a living room that could have passed for a museum. He pointed to a portrait of a priest, "My son," he said. The walls were covered with black and white photographs and religious artifacts. In a corner, by a rocking chair, stood statues of Jesus and Mary.

He introduced us to his wife Pacita, a lively lady with sparkling eyes who went out to fix us drinks.

Vigan is an old town," Captain Donato said. "It has never changed. The people here are very conservative - mostly old families with land holdings who keep old family traditions and live in old houses like this one."
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