War on War Toys : Protesters Destroy Them Under Steamroller

Some children’s super heroes were humiliated Saturday in the parking lot of the Federal Building in West Los Angeles.

GI Joe’s neck was twisted. Captain Power was smashed in his plastic box. An intergalactic spaceship--an essential mode of transportation for Saturday morning television heroes--was mangled.

The pile of war toys were swept under a five-ton steamroller, which slowly crushed them during a rally staged as part of the International Day of Protest Against War Toys. It was just one of many events held this weekend throughout the country by activists who hope to influence toy companies that have seen sales of their war toys skyrocket by 700% since 1982.

Demonstrations in East

GI Joe was vilified in front of Hasbro Inc.’s headquarters in Rhode Island. And in Connecticut, Coleco Industries, the maker of the Rambo doll, was picketed.

“A replica toy weapon would be better under a steamroller than in the hands of a child who might accidentally get shot by a police officer,” said Jerry Rubin, a peace activist with Alliance for Survival, the event’s organizer in Los Angeles. “The toy weapons would be better under a steamroller than in the hands of children, who are becoming desensitized to the real horror of crime and war.”

About 100 people cheered as they watched what looked vaguely like one of comedian David Letterman’s late-night stunts.

Before the rally, Timbuk 3, a rock group, sang its anti-war-toy song, “All I Want for Christmas (Is World Peace).” They are donating all the proceeds from the record to the cause.

Carol Lieberman, a Beverly Hills psychiatrist, told the crowd that her 6-year-old daughter asked if the toy Uzi machine gun she had placed on the pile was authentic.

“Children have a very, very hard time understanding whether these toys are real,” Lieberman said in giving her reasons for opposing the toys.

As is so often the case at such rallies, counter demonstrators with signs showed up. College students belonging to the conservative Young Americans for Freedom argued that encouraging local governments to ban war toys was analogous to burning books.

Perhaps the only surprise of the afternoon was discovering how resilient the toys were. A handful of adults and small children had to throw many of the toys in the path of the steamroller repeatedly before they began looking like they had been assaulted by 10,000 pounds of metal.

“I guess they are pretty durable,” said Mark Dusterhoft, who drove the steamroller, which had been loaned by his family’s construction company. “They are meant to last.”