MY LAI: The shudder of artillery fire woke the boy at 5:30 a.m. Three American soldiers appeared at his family’s home a couple of hours later and forced the mother and five children into their bomb shelter, a structure most every Vietnamese home had during the war, to keep them safe.
One soldier set fire to the family’s thatched house while the others tossed grenades into the shelter. Protected under the torn bodies of his mother and his four siblings, 10-year-old Pham Thanh Cong was the only survivor.
It was March 16, 1968. The American soldiers of Charlie Company, sent on what they were told was a mission to confront a crack outfit of their Vietcong enemies, met no resistance, but over three to four hours killed 504 unarmed civilians, mostly women, children and elderly men, in My Lai and a neighboring community. Vietnamese refer to the greater village where the killings occurred as Son My.
“We started hearing the screaming and moaning from our neighbors, which were followed by gunfire and grenade explosions, then the screaming and moaning stopped, and my mother knew that the American soldiers had killed people,” Cong recalled this week. “I was covered with the flesh and hair of my mother and sisters and brother.”
Knocked unconscious with injuries to his head and wounds on his torso from grenade fragments, Cong was saved that afternoon when his father came to retrieve the bodies.
The My Lai massacre was the most notorious episode in modern US military history, but not an aberration in America’s war in Vietnam.
The US military’s own records, filed discreetly away for three decades, described 300 other cases of what could fairly be described as war crimes. My Lai was distinguished by the shocking one-day death toll, the stomach-churning photographs and the gruesome details exposed by a high-level US Army inquiry.
An official policy of free-fire zones — from which civilians were supposed to leave upon being warned — and an unofficial code of “kill anything that moves” meant Vietnamese were constantly at risk.
Estimates of civilians killed during the US ground war in Vietnam from 1965 to 1973 are generally 1 million to 2 million.
The average US soldier could not be sure who the enemy was, rarely encountering one directly. They were targeted by land mines, booby traps, snipers. They were told to help, but the Vietnamese were rarely welcoming. Quang Ngai province, where My Lai is located, was a hive of communist military activity.
Two days before the massacre, a booby trap killed a sergeant, blinded a GI and wounded several others on a Charlie Company patrol.
Soldiers later testified to the US Army investigating commission that the bloodletting began quickly when Lt. William L. Calley Jr. led Charlie Company’s first platoon into My Lai that morning. One elderly man was bayoneted to death; another man was thrown alive into a well and killed with a hand grenade. Women and children were herded into a drainage ditch and slaughtered. Women and girls were gang-raped.
“They went in with blood in their eyes and shot everything that moved,” recalled Hugh Thompson Jr., an army helicopter pilot who flew support for the mission in My Lai and — along with his two-man flight crew — are the only servicemen known to have actively intervened to try to stop the killing. They evacuated a handful of Vietnamese civilians on the point of being killed by his countrymen. Thompson also was one of several soldiers who became whistleblowers and eventually brought the outrage to public attention.
Calley was convicted in 1971 for the murders of 22 people during the rampage. He was sentenced to life in prison but served only three days because President Nixon ordered his sentence reduced. He served three years of house arrest.
Calley has avoided speaking about the matter with apparently just one exception. In 2009, at the urging of a friend, he spoke to the Kiwanis Club in Columbus, Georgia, near Fort Benning, where he had been court-martialed.
“There is not a day that goes by that I do not feel remorse for what happened that day in My Lai,” Calley said, according to an account of the meeting reported by the Columbus Ledger-Enquirer. “I feel remorse for the Vietnamese who were killed, for their families, for the American soldiers involved and their families. I am very sorry.” He said his mistake was following orders, which had been his defense when he was tried.
Fifty years after the massacre, and almost 43 years after the communist victory reunified Vietnam, most of the rancor is gone, at least publicly, between the nations. They normalized diplomatic relations in 1995, and the United States is now one of Vietnam’s top trading partners and investors. Cooperation on security and military matters has grown to the point where this month a US Navy aircraft carrier made the first visit to a Vietnamese port since the war.
Cong, the young massacre survivor, went on to study and work in local government, and from 1992 until his retirement last year, he headed the My Lai museum, which sits in part of the area where the massacre occurred.
He said he cannot forget the atrocities but he’s willing to forgive the soldiers to build better relations between the two countries.
“We have had enough losses and suffering of war, and we just wish our children and grandchildren would not have to go through those experiences. We desire for peace, we want eternal peace,” he said.
50 years ago, the My Lai massacre shamed the US military
50 years ago, the My Lai massacre shamed the US military
Chinese man defies demolition orders to build madcap rural home
- Nail houses sometimes make headlines for delaying money-spinning construction projects or forcing developers to divert roads or build around shabby older homes
XINGYI, China: Surrounded by the rubble of demolished homes, Chen Tianming’s ramshackle tower of faded plyboards and contorted beams juts into the sky in southwestern China, a teetering monument to one man’s stubbornness.
Authorities razed most of Chen’s village in Guizhou province in 2018 to build a lucrative tourist resort in a region known for its spectacular rice paddies and otherworldly mountain landscapes.
Chen, 42, refused to leave, and after the project faltered, defied a flurry of demolition notices to build his family’s humble stone bungalow higher and higher.
He now presides over a bewildering 10-storey, pyramid-shaped warren of rickety staircases, balconies and other add-ons, drawing comparisons in Chinese media to the fantastical creations of legendary Japanese animator Hayao Miyazaki.
“I started building out of practicality, trying to renovate and expand our home,” Chen said on a sweltering May afternoon as he climbed ladders and ducked wooden beams in his labyrinthine construction.
“But then it became more of an interest and hobby that I enjoyed,” he said.
Chen’s obsessive tinkering and lack of building permits continue to draw ire from the local government.
The higher floors where he sleeps sway in the wind, and dozens of ropes and cables tether the house to the ground as if the whole thing might one day float away.
“When I’m up here... I get the sense of being a nomad,” Chen said, gazing out at apartment blocks, an airport and distant mountains.
“People often say it’s unsafe and should be demolished... but I’ll definitely never let anyone tear it down.”
Local authorities once had big plans to build an 800-acre tourist resort — including a theater and artificial lake — on Chen’s native soil.
They promised to compensate villagers, but Chen’s parents refused, and he vowed to help them protect the home his grandfather had built in the 1980s.
Even as neighbors moved out and their houses were bulldozed, Chen stayed put, even sleeping alone in the house for two months “in case (developers) came to knock it down in the night.”
Six months later, like many ill-considered development projects in highly indebted Guizhou, the resort was canceled.
Virtually alone among the ruined village, Chen was now master of a “nail house” — a Chinese term for those whose owners dig in and refuse to relocate despite official compensation offers.
A quirk of China’s rampant development and partial private property laws, nail houses sometimes make headlines for delaying money-spinning construction projects or forcing developers to divert roads or build around shabby older homes.
Even as Chen forged ahead, completing the fifth floor in 2019, the sixth in 2022 and the seventh in 2023, he continued to receive threats of demolition.
Last August, his home was designated an illegal construction, and he was ordered to destroy everything except the original bungalow within five days.
He says he has spent tens of thousands of yuan fighting the notices in court, despite losing several preliminary hearings.
But he continues to appeal, and the next hearing has been delayed.
“I’m not worried. Now that there’s no one developing the land, there’s no need for them to knock the place down,” he said.
In recent years, ironically, Chen’s house has begun to lure a steady trickle of tourists itself.
On Chinese social media, users describe it as China’s strangest nail house, likening it to the madcap buildings in Miyazaki’s Studio Ghibli masterpieces “Howl’s Moving Castle” and “Spirited Away.”
As dusk falls, Chen illuminates his home with decorative lanterns, and people gather on the nearby dirt road to admire the scene.
“It’s beautiful,” local resident He Diezhen said as she snapped photos.
“If there are no safety issues, it could become an (official) local landmark,” she said.
Chen said the house makes many visitors remember their whimsical childhood fantasies.
“(People) dream of building a house for themselves with their own hands... but most can’t make it happen,” he said.
“I not only thought of it, I made it a reality.”
Man who let snakes bite him 200 times spurs new antivenom hope
- “I know what it feels like to die from snakebite”
PARIS: Tim Friede was feeling particularly down on the day after the September 11 attacks, so he went to his basement and let two of the world’s deadliest snakes bite him.
Four days later, he woke up from a coma.
“I know what it feels like to die from snakebite,” Friede told AFP via video call from his home in the small US town of Two Rivers, Wisconsin.
This experience might put most people off snakes entirely, but Friede simply vowed to be more careful next time.
From 2000 to 2018, he allowed himself to be bitten by snakes more than 200 times. He also injected himself with their venom over 650 times.
Friede endured this pain because he wanted to achieve total immunity to venom, a practice called mithridatism which should not be tried at home.
After a couple of years, Friede started to believe he could be the basis for a better kind of antivenom. The former truck mechanic, who does not have a university degree, long struggled to be taken seriously by scientists.
But last month, a study published in the prestigious Cell journal showed that antibodies from his blood protect against a range of snake venom.
The researchers now hope Friede’s hyper-immunity could even lead to the development of a universal antivenom.
This would fill a major need, because currently most antivenoms only cover one or a few of the world’s 600 venomous snakes.
Up to 138,000 people are killed by snakebites a year, while 400,000 suffer amputations or other disabilities, according to the World Health Organization.
These figures are believed to be vastly underestimated because snakebite victims typically live in poorer, remote areas.
Friede’s first bite was from a harmless garter snake when he was five years old.
“I was afraid, I cried, I ran away,” said Friede, now 57.
Then he started bringing snakes home and hiding them in pickle jars. His mother sought counselling, but his interest in snakes persisted.
Things escalated after Friede attended a class that taught him how to “milk” snakes for their venom.
How antivenom is made has changed little over the last 125 years.
Small doses of snake venom are injected into animals such as horses, which produce antibodies that can be extracted and used as antivenom.
However this antivenom usually only works for bites from that particular species of snake — and it includes other antibodies from horse that can cause serious side-effects including anaphylactic shock.
“I thought, well, if they make antivenom in horses, why can’t I just use myself as a primate?” Friede said.
He started working through the venom from all the deadly species he could get his hands on, such as cobras, taipans, black mambas and rattlesnakes.
“There is pain every time,” he said.
For years, the scientists he contacted to take advantage of his immunity refused to bite.
Then in 2017, immunologist Jacob Glanville, who previously worked on universal vaccines, turned his attention toward antivenom.
Glanville told AFP he had been looking for “a clumsy snake researcher who’d been bit accidentally a couple times,” when he came across a video of Friede taking brutal back-to-back snake bites.
When they first spoke, Glanville said he told Friede: “I know this is awkward, but I would love to get my hands on some of your blood.”
“I’ve been waiting for this call for a long time,” came the response, Glanville said.
The antivenom described in the Cell paper includes two antibodies from Friede’s blood, as well as a drug called varespladib.
It offered mice full protection against 13 of the 19 snake species tested, and partial protection for the remaining six.
The researchers hope a future cocktail will cover far more snakes — particularly vipers — with further trials planned on dogs in Australia.
Timothy Jackson of the Australian Venom Research Unit praised the immunological research, but questioned whether a human needed to be involved, pointing to synthetically developed antibodies.
Glanville said the ultimate goal of his US-based firm Centivax was to develop a universal antivenom administered by something like an EpiPen, potentially produced in India to keep the costs down.
Friede said he was “proud” to have made a “small difference” in medical history.
Now working for Centivax, Friede stopped self-inflicting himself with venom in 2018 to save the firm from liability issues.
But he hopes to get bitten by snakes again in the future.
“I do miss it,” he said.
Video shows dolphin calf birth and first breath at Chicago zoo. Mom’s friend helped
- Calf was born at Brookfield Zoo Chicago from 38-year-old bottlenose dolphin named Allie
- Experienced mother dolphin stayed close to Allie through her more than one hour of labor
CHICAGO: A bottlenose dolphin at a Chicago zoo gave birth to a calf early Saturday morning with the help of a fellow mom, in a successful birth recorded on video by zoo staff.
The dolphin calf was born at Brookfield Zoo Chicago early Saturday morning as a team of veterinarians monitored and cheered on the mom, a 38-year-old bottlenose dolphin named Allie.
“Push, push, push,” one observer can be heard shouting in video released by the zoo Saturday, as Allie swims around the tank, the calf’s little tail fins poking out below her own.
Then the calf wriggles free and instinctively darts to the surface of the pool for its first breath. Also in the tank was an experienced mother dolphin named Tapeko, 43, who stayed close to Allie through her more than one hour of labor. In the video, she can be seen following the calf as it heads to the surface, and staying with it as it takes that first breath.
It is natural for dolphins to look out for each other during a birth, zoo staff said.
“That’s very common both in free-ranging settings but also in aquaria,” said Brookfield Zoo Chicago Senior Veterinarian Dr. Jennifer Langan in a video statement. “It provides the mom extra protection and a little bit of extra help to help get the calf to the surface to help it breath in those couple minutes where she’s still having really strong contractions.”
In a written statement, zoo officials said early signs indicate that the calf is in good health. They estimate it weighs around 35 pounds (16 kilograms) and stretches nearly four feet in length (115-120 centimeters). That is about the weight and length of an adult golden retriever dog.
The zoo’s Seven Seas exhibit will be closed as the calf bonds with its mother and acclimates with other dolphins in its group.
As part of that bonding, the calf has already learned to slipstream, or draft alongside its mother so that it doesn’t have to work as hard to move. Veterinarians will monitor progress in nursing, swimming and other milestones particularly closely over the next 30 days.
The calf will eventually take a paternity test to see which of the male dolphins at the zoo is its father.
Zoo officials say they will name the calf later this summer.
Pope Leo XIV faces funding challenges for cash-strapped Vatican
VATICAN CITY: The world’s smallest country has a big budget problem.
The Vatican doesn’t tax its residents or issue bonds. It primarily finances the Catholic Church’s central government through donations that have been plunging, ticket sales for the Vatican Museums, as well as income from investments and an underperforming real estate portfolio.
The last year the Holy See published a consolidated budget, in 2022, it projected €770 million ($878 million), with the bulk paying for embassies around the world and Vatican media operations. In recent years, it hasn’t been able to cover costs.
That leaves Pope Leo XIV facing challenges to drum up the funds needed to pull his city-state out of the red.
Withering donations
Anyone can donate money to the Vatican, but the regular sources come in two main forms.
Canon law requires bishops around the world to pay an annual fee, with amounts varying and at bishops’ discretion “according to the resources of their dioceses.” US bishops contributed over one-third of the $22 million (€19.3 million) collected annually under the provision from 2021-2023, according to Vatican data.
The other main source of annual donations is more well-known to ordinary Catholics: Peter’s Pence, a special collection usually taken on the last Sunday of June. From 2021-2023, individual Catholics in the US gave an average $27 million (€23.7 million) to Peter’s Pence, more than half the global total.
American generosity hasn’t prevented overall Peter’s Pence contributions from cratering. After hitting a high of $101 million (€88.6 million) in 2006, contributions hovered around $75 million (€66.8 million) during the 2010’s then tanked to $47 million (€41.2 million) during the first year of the COVID-19 pandemic, when many churches were closed.
Donations remained low in the following years, amid revelations of the Vatican’s bungled investment in a London property, a former Harrod’s warehouse that it hoped to develop into luxury apartments. The scandal and ensuing trial confirmed that the vast majority of Peter’s Pence contributions had funded the Holy See’s budgetary shortfalls, not papal charity initiatives as many parishioners had been led to believe.
Peter’s Pence donations rose slightly in 2023 and Vatican officials expect more growth going forward, in part because there has traditionally been a bump immediately after papal elections.
New donors
The Vatican bank and the city state’s governorate, which controls the museums, also make annual contributions to the pope. As recently as a decade ago, the bank gave the pope around €55 million ($62.7 million) a year to help with the budget. But the amounts have dwindled; the bank gave nothing specifically to the pope in 2023, despite registering a net profit of €30 million ($34.2 million), according to its financial statements. The governorate’s giving has likewise dropped off.
Some Vatican officials ask how the Holy See can credibly ask donors to be more generous when its own institutions are holding back.
Leo will need to attract donations from outside the US, no small task given the different culture of philanthropy, said the Rev. Robert Gahl, director of the Church Management Program at Catholic University of America’s business school. He noted that in Europe there is much less of a tradition (and tax advantage) of individual philanthropy, with corporations and government entities doing most of the donating or allocating designated tax dollars.
Even more important is leaving behind the “mendicant mentality” of fundraising to address a particular problem, and instead encouraging Catholics to invest in the church as a project, he said.
Speaking right after Leo’s installation ceremony in St. Peter’s Square, which drew around 200,000 people, Gahl asked: “Don’t you think there were a lot of people there that would have loved to contribute to that and to the pontificate?”
In the US, donation baskets are passed around at every Sunday Mass. Not so at the Vatican.
Untapped real estate
The Vatican has 4,249 properties in Italy and 1,200 more in London, Paris, Geneva and Lausanne, Switzerland. Only about one-fifth are rented at fair market value, according to the annual report from the APSA patrimony office, which manages them. Some 70 percent generate no income because they house Vatican or other church offices; the remaining 10 percent are rented at reduced rents to Vatican employees.
In 2023, these properties only generated €35 million euros ($39.9) in profit. Financial analysts have long identified such undervalued real estate as a source of potential revenue.
But Ward Fitzgerald, the president of the US-based Papal Foundation, which finances papal charities, said the Vatican should also be willing to sell properties, especially those too expensive to maintain. Many bishops are wrestling with similar downsizing questions as the number of church-going Catholics in parts of the US and Europe shrinks and once-full churches stand empty.
Toward that end, the Vatican recently sold the property housing its embassy in Tokyo’s high-end Sanbancho neighborhood, near the Imperial Palace, to a developer building a 13-story apartment complex, according to the Kensetsu News trade journal.
Yet there has long been institutional reluctance to part with even money-losing properties. Witness the Vatican announcement in 2021 that the cash-strapped Fatebenefratelli Catholic hospital in Rome, run by a religious order, would not be sold. Pope Francis simultaneously created a Vatican fundraising foundation to keep it and other Catholic hospitals afloat.
“They have to come to grips with the fact that they own so much real estate that is not serving the mission of the church,” said Fitzgerald, who built a career in real estate private equity.
A British TV art expert who sold works to a suspected Hezbollah financier is sentenced to prison
- Oghenochuko Ojiri, 53, had pleaded guilty to eight offenses under the Terrorism Act 2000
- Ojiri, who also appeared on the BBC’s Antiques Road Trip, faced a possible sentence of five years in prison in the hearing at London’s Central Criminal Court
LONDON: An art expert who appeared on the BBC’s Bargain Hunt show was sentenced Friday to two and a half years in prison for failing to report his sale of pricey works to a suspected financier of Lebanon’s militant Hezbollah group.
At a previous hearing, Oghenochuko Ojiri, 53, had pleaded guilty to eight offenses under the Terrorism Act 2000. The art sales for about 140,000 pounds ($185,000) to Nazem Ahmad, a diamond and art dealer sanctioned by the UK and US as a Hezbollah financier, took place between October 2020 and December 2021.
The sanctions were designed to prevent anyone in the UK or US from trading with Ahmad or his businesses.
Ojiri, who also appeared on the BBC’s Antiques Road Trip, faced a possible sentence of five years in prison in the hearing at London’s Central Criminal Court, which is better known as the Old Bailey.
In addition to the prison term, Justice Bobbie Cheema-Grubb said Ojiri faces an additional year on license — a period of time after a prison sentence ends when an offender must stay out of trouble or risk going back to prison.
She told Ojiri he had been involved in a commercial relationship “for prestige and profit” and that until his involvement with Ahmad, he was “someone to be admired.”
“You knew about Ahmad’s suspected involvement in financing terrorism and the way the art market can be exploited by someone like him,” she said. “This is the nadir — there is one direction your life can go and I am confident that you will not be in front of the courts again.”
The Met’s investigation into Ojiri was carried out alongside Homeland Security in the US, which is conducting a wider investigation into alleged money laundering by Ahmad using shell companies.
“This prosecution, using specific Terrorism Act legislation, is the first of its kind and should act as a warning to all art dealers that we can, and will, pursue those who knowingly do business with people identified as funders of terrorist groups,” said Commander Dominic Murphy, head of the Metropolitan Police’s Counter Terrorism Command.
Ahmad was sanctioned in 2019 by the US Treasury, which said he was a prominent Lebanon-based money launderer involved in smuggling blood diamonds, which are mined in conflict zones and sold to finance violence.
Two years ago, the UK Treasury froze Ahmad’s assets because he financed Hezbollah, the Iranian-backed Shiite militant organization that has been designated an international terrorist group.
Following Ojiri’s arrest in April 2023, the Met obtained a warrant to seize a number of artworks, including a Picasso and Andy Warhol paintings, belonging to Ahmad and held in two warehouses in the UK
The collection, valued at almost 1 million pounds, is due to be sold with the funds to be reinvested back into the police, the Crown Prosecution Service and the Home Office.
