Mickey Mouse in Vietnam is a 16mm underground short movie. The director was Lee Savage, the producer and head designer was Milton Glaser. It features the Disney character Mickey Mouse being shipped to Vietnam during the war. Moments after arriving, he is shot dead. It was produced independently in 1969 and has a total running time of one minute. This film was lost for many years until April 22, 2013 when a YouTube user uploaded the video.
Surrender Speech by Chief Joseph of the Nez Perce
“I am tired of fighting. Our chiefs are killed. Looking Glass is dead. Toohulhulsoteis is dead. The old men are all dead. It is the young men who say yes or no. He who led the young men is dead. It is cold and we have no blankets. The little children are freezing to death. My people, some of them, have run away to the hills and have no blankets, no food. No one knows where they are–perhaps freezing to death. I want to have time to look for my children and see how many I can find. Maybe I shall find them among the dead. Hear me, my chiefs. I am tired. My heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands, I will fight no more forever.”
“in quiet rooms young girls are writing poetry” by David Rathman
“In quiet rooms young girls are writing poetry” is an artist’s book that reproduces David Rathman’s recent war-themed watercolors. The paintings depict tanks, planes, warships and helicopters. As with Rathman’s cowboy and car pieces, the imagery is paired with hand-written texts and legends.
Using “language in a paradoxical way to confront the imagery,” Rathman avoids a head-on collision with the “heaviness” of his subject. According to the artist, “There’s a lot of indirection and evasion going on; to see these aggressive menacing subjects twisting with uncertainty struck me as humorous and—in a sideways, minor way—profound.”
After Japan’s unconditional surrender in 1945, U.S. general Douglas MacArthur issued orders for the arrest of the first forty alleged war criminals, including Hideki_Tōjō. Soon, Tōjō’s home in Setagaya was besieged with newsmen and photographers. Inside, a doctor named Suzuki had marked Tōjō’s chest with charcoal to indicate the location of his heart. When American military police surrounded the house on 8 September 1945, they heard a muffled shot from inside. Major Paul Kraus and a group of military police burst in, followed by George Jones, a reporter for The New York Times. Tōjō had shot himself in the chest with a pistol, but despite shooting directly through the mark, the bullets missed his heart and penetrated his stomach. Now disarmed and with blood gushing out of his chest, Tōjō began to talk, and two Japanese reporters recorded his words. “I am very sorry it is taking me so long to die,” he murmured. “The Greater East Asia War was justified and righteous. I am very sorry for the nation and all the races of the Greater Asiatic powers. I wait for the righteous judgment of history. I wished to commit suicide but sometimes that fails.” (via Wikipedia)
“For 62 years, in what is now the world’s longest ongoing conflict, the ill-fed and ill-equipped people of Karen State, (locally called Kawtoolie), Burma have been fighting for an independent homeland against the ruling Burmese military government. The junta has been applying a brutal, systematic policy of murder, rape, forced labor and wholesale destruction of Karan villages. Working on assignment in Karan State for Men’s Journal in November 2010, I was enamored by the calm resilience of the Karen people, both soldiers and civilians, who all seem to possess a quiet determination, backed by their motto ‘never surrender.’ I decided to return in February 2011, to bring the face of the Karen people, and their highly under-reported struggle to survive against the brutal junta, to a greater audience in the hopes of affecting some positive change.” – Jason Florio
NEVER SURRENDER: THE LONELY WAR OF HIROO ONODA 
His home was a dense area of rainforest and he lived on the wild coconuts that grew in abundance. His principal enemy was the army of mosquitoes that arrived with each new shower of rain. But for Hiroo Onoda there was another enemy - one that remained elusive. Unaware that the Second World War had ended 29 years earlier, he was still fighting a lonely guerrilla war in the jungles of Lubang Island in the Philippines. His story is one of courage, farce and loyalty gone mad.
Lubang Island was small: 16 miles long and just six miles wide. Yet it was covered in dense forest and the four Japanese soldiers found it easy to remain in hiding. They spend their time conducting guerrilla activities, killing at least 30 Filipinos in one attack and clashing with the police on several other occasions. In October, 1945, the men stumbled across a leaflet that read: ‘The war ended on August 15. Come down from the mountains.’
Another two years passed before family photographs and letters were finally dropped into the forest on Lubang Island. Onoda found the parcels but was convinced it was all part of an elaborate trick. He and his two companions remained determined to continue fighting until the bitter end. They had little equipment and almost no provisions: they survived by eating coconuts and bananas and occasionally killing a cow. Their living conditions were abominable: there was the tropical heat, constant rain and infestations of rats. All the while they slept in makeshift huts made from branches.
Years rolled into decades and the men began to feel the effects of age. One of Onoda’s comrades was killed by local Filipinos in 1954: another lived for a further 18 years before being shot in October, 1972. He and Onoda had been engaged in a guerrilla raid on Lubang’s food supplies when they got caught in a shoot-out. Onoda was now alone: the last Japanese soldier still fighting the Second World War, a conflict that had ended 27 years earlier.
By now his struggle had become a lonely one, yet he refused to lay down his arms. He was still conducting guerrilla raids in the spring of 1974, when a traveling Japanese student, Noria Suzuki, made contact with him. Suzuki broke the news that the war had ended a long time previously. Onoda refused to believe it. He told Suzuki he would never surrender until he received specific orders to that effect from his superior officer.
He was finally successful on 9 March, 1974. ‘Japan,’ he said to Onoda, ‘had lost the war and all combat activity was to cease immediately.’ Onoda was officially relived from military duties and told to hand over his rifle, ammunition and hand grenades. He was both stunned and horrified. ‘We really lost the war!’ were his first words. ‘How could they [the Japanese army] have been so sloppy? When he returned to Japan, he was feted as a national hero. But Onoda disliked the attention and found Japan a mere shadow of the noble imperial country he had served for so many years. Hiroo Onoda is alive to this day. Now 89 years of age, he remains grateful to Major Taniguchi for tracking him down in the Philippines. Had it not been for Taniguchi’s mission, he would still be fighting his lonely war in the thick forests of Lubang Island. Unaware that the Second World War had ended 29 years earlier, he was still fighting a lonely guerrilla war in the jungles of Lubang Island in the Philippines. His story is one of courage, farce and loyalty gone mad.
dries van noten
not in our name
i-D magazine, the action issue, june 2003
the following section is dedicated to peace and a future that does not rely on bombs, tanks and guns to solve the problems of the world.
the idea for this project started during fashion week in new york, with tanks at heathrow, helicopters over manhattan and peace marches planned across the world for the following saturday. it seemed that we had to do something; that however small our contribution, we had to stand up and be counted, to lend our voices to the growing consensus of dissent – because the truth is that if we silent, it can only be presumed that we acquiesce.
we wanted to be a conduit for creative people internationally who disagree with war. so we sent out the following brief: ‘let us know your views, your message, your image and your ideas in whatever way you want to. we suggest using a white shirt or t-shirt as a canvas, and would ask you to be photographed with it if you don’t mind, but you do not have to.’
Two enlisted Marines face potential punishment for allegedly hazing a fellow Marine from California while their battalion was in Afghanistan, according to a report in the Marine Corps Times. Lance Cpl. Harry Lew, 21, of Santa Clara committed suicide within hours of the rough treatment, the newspaper said. Before putting a machine gun to his head, Lew left a note on his arm: “May hate me now, but in the long run this was the right choice. I’m sorry. My mom deserves the truth.” The two other Marine lance corporals allegedly became angry when they found Lew asleep while assigned to stand guard on the night of April 2. A sergeant told the lance corporals that “peers should correct peers,” according to an investigative report obtained by the newspaper. The two lance corporals then ordered Lew to do pushups, crunches and other exercises, according to the report. One of the Marines stomped on Lew’s leg and another kicked dirt on him. Both allegedly berated him for sloppy performance. The three were part of the Hawaii-based 2nd battalion, 3rd Marine Regiment, 3rd Marine Division, assigned at the time to the Nawa district of Helmand province, long a Taliban stronghold. One of the lance corporals faces an Article 32 — akin to a civilian preliminary hearing — on charges of cruelty and maltreatment. The other, the Marine Corps Times said, will face non-judicial punishment meted out by a superior officer. In both cases, the process will take place at the Marine base in Hawaii. Born and raised in Santa Clara, Lew graduated from Santa Clara High and attended Mission College for a year before enlisting. His parents, both immigrants, were shocked but proud of his decision to enlist. His aunt is Rep. Judy Chu (D-El Monte). “When I dropped him off at the airport (before he deployed to Afghanistan), I remember telling him: ‘You take care. Don’t get yourself killed,’ ” his father, Allen Lew, told The Times in April. “He just said: ‘OK,’ got his luggage and left.” Lew was buried in Golden Gate National Cemetery in San Bruno. (via)
Nguyen Thi Li, aged 9, who lives in the Ngu Hanh Son district of Da Nang in Vietnam, suffers from disabilities believed to be caused by the defoliating chemical Agent Orange. During the Vietnam War, US forces sprayed Agent Orange over forests and farmland in an attempt to deprive Viet Cong guerrillas of cover and food. The dioxin compound used in the defoliant is a long-acting toxin that can be passed down genetically, so it is still having an impact forty years on. The Vietnam Red Cross estimates that some 150,000 Vietnamese children are disabled owing to their parents’ exposure to the dioxin. Symptoms range from diabetes and heart disease to physical and learning disabilities.
Ed Kashi speaks about the project:
“I was in Danang, Vietnam to work on a short film about child victims of Agent Orange and, while shooting video, was confronted with this incredible moment where the light, composition, character and mood combined to present something magical, transcendent and ultimately beautiful in its essence. Yet, it also showed the ongoing effects of a war that ended 35 years ago. Nguyen Thi Ly, a 9 year old girl afflicted with the genetic defects associated with Agent Orange exposure, represents yet another generation of children in Vietnam who need care and support.”
