A few words about the piece
This stark black-and-white illustration speaks volumes without words. A lone rat in oversized fatigues and a dented helmet sits atop a crumbling, stylized rat skull. There’s no battlefield—only the crushing stillness after orders and loss. The rat doesn’t stand at attention; it sits, heavy and watching.
The image is more than clever anthropomorphism—it’s a biting metaphor. The rat, long a symbol of expendability, filth, and sacrifice in the shadows of society, is reimagined here as a soldier. A “nobody” in uniform. The heavy lines and minimal palette amplify the bleakness, encouraging the viewer to linger in discomfort.
The giant skull beneath is both literal and symbolic—a monument to the fallen, forgotten, and ignored. It’s not a hero’s memorial with flowers; it’s an unmarked grave shaped like the protagonist.
This piece questions who is sent to fight and what we accept as just. In its simplicity it delivers a devastating critique: for many, service equals disposability. We clothe vermin in honor, send them away, and then forget the cost.
“Private Vermin” is anti-war reflection wrapped in rodent imagery. The protagonist’s small frame belies the size of its message:
Even rats bleed. Even rats are remembered—when someone chooses not to forget.