After nearly seven decades, thousands of Brazilian men recruited during World War II to go into the Amazon and extract the rubber required for everything from airplanes to gun mounts are finally being compensated for their effort. The Brazilian government is remitting 25,000 reals (roughly $7,800) to the survivors of the “rubber soldiers” program and their dependents throughout the month of March. But the 11,900 beneficiaries are a fraction of the more than 55,000 men and untold number of family members who participated in the program, which was partly sponsored by the U.S. government to fill a dangerous wartime rubber shortage. The money is welcome, as the men are elderly and most are frail. But many of them say that this amount is a pittance meant to silence them and does not fulfill the promises made to them when they signed up. “None of what they told us when we enlisted was delivered,” says José Romão Grande, 92, president of SINDSBOR, the Rubber Soldiers Union of the northern state of Rondônia. “We were used like animals and abandoned once the war was over.”
Text by Juliana Barbassa
Brazil - Soldados da Borracha
Brazil - Soldados da Borracha
After nearly seven decades, thousands of Brazilian men recruited during World War II to go into the Amazon and extract the rubber required for everything from airplanes to gun mounts are finally being compensated for their effort. The Brazilian government is remitting 25,000 reals (roughly $7,800) to the survivors of the “rubber soldiers” program and their dependents throughout the month of March. But the 11,900 beneficiaries are a fraction of the more than 55,000 men and untold number of family members who participated in the program, which was partly sponsored by the U.S. government to fill a dangerous wartime rubber shortage. The money is welcome, as the men are elderly and most are frail. But many of them say that this amount is a pittance meant to silence them and does not fulfill the promises made to them when they signed up. “None of what they told us when we enlisted was delivered,” says José Romão Grande, 92, president of SINDSBOR, the Rubber Soldiers Union of the northern state of Rondônia. “We were used like animals and abandoned once the war was over.”
Text by Juliana Barbassa