“Prisoner of War,” a new short film written and directed by Matthew R. Sanders and produced by Marty Skovlund Jr., brings the inner battle of struggling veterans onto the screen.
The film, which was released on Veterans Day, features a nameless character in an orange jumpsuit, who is interrogated and tortured by unknown assailants in an unmarked facility. There is a heroic, albeit tragic, nobility in the man’s unwillingness to crack, but ultimately, both he and the audience know it’s only a matter of time.
“Prisoner of War” was created with the support and funding of GallantFew, a nonprofit that focuses on veteran transition issues including suicide, joblessness, and homelessness. Karl Monger, GallantFew’s founder and director, addresses the audience at the film’s close, encouraging veteran viewers in need, to reach out for help.
NEWPORT — The explosion and sinking of the ship in 1943 claimed at least 1,138 lives, and while the sea swallowed the bones there were people, too, who also worked to shroud the bodies.
The sinking of the H.M.T. Rohna was the greatest loss of life at sea by enemy action in the history of U.S. war, but the British Admiralty demanded silence from the survivors and the tragedy was immediately classified by the U.S. War Department.
Michael Walsh of Newport is working to bring the story of the Rohna to the surface with a documentary film, which includes interviews with some of the survivors of the attack. Walsh has interviewed about 45 men who were aboard the ship when it was hit.
Editor's note: this story originally appeared in 2018
How you die matters. Ten years ago, on Memorial Day, I was in Fallujah, serving a year-long tour on the staff and conducting vehicle patrols between Abu Ghraib and Ramadi. That day I attended a memorial service in the field. It was just one of many held that year in Iraq, and one of the countless I witnessed over my 20 years in the U.S. Marine Corps.
Like many military veterans, Memorial Day is not abstract to me. It is personal; a moment when we remember our friends. A day, as Oliver Wendell Holmes said, “sacred to memories of love and grief and heroic youth."