Louis Zamperini
Louis Zamperini was a World War II prisoner of war and an Olympic athlete who became an inspirational figure and writer.
Who Was Louis Zamperini?
Louis Zamperini was a World War II veteran and Olympic distance runner. Zamperini competed in the 1936 Berlin Olympics and was set to compete again in the 1940 games in Tokyo, which were canceled when World War II broke out. A bombardier in the Army Air Corps, Zamperini was in a plane that went down, and when he arrived on shore in Japan 47 days later, he was taken as a prisoner of war and tortured for two years. After his release, Zamperini became an inspirational figure, and his life served as the basis for the 2014 biography Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption.
Early Years
Louis Silvie Zamperini was born to Italian immigrant parents on January 26, 1917, in the town of Olean, New York. Growing up in Torrance, California, Zamperini ran track at Torrance High School and discovered that he had a talent for long-distance running.
In 1934, Zamperini set the national high school mile record, and his time of 4 minutes and 21.2 seconds would stand for an incredible 20 years. His track prowess also caught the attention of the University of Southern California, which he earned a scholarship to attend.
1936 Berlin Olympics
It wasn’t long before Zamperini was taking his love of track to the next level, and in 1936 he headed to New York City for the 5,000-meter Olympic trials. Held on Randall’s Island, the race pitted Zamperini against Don Lash, the world record holder in the event. The race ended in a dead heat between the two runners, and the finish was enough to qualify Zamperini for the 1936 Olympics in Berlin, while he was still a teenager.
Zamperini trained for only a few weeks in the 5,000 meters, and although he ran well (he finished his last lap in only 56 seconds), he didn’t medal, coming in eighth (to Lash’s 13th). During the overwhelming pageant that is the Olympics, the 19-year-old stood near Adolf Hitler’s box with his fellow athletes, seeking a photo of the Nazi leader. Looking back on the event, Zamperini said, “I was pretty naïve about world politics, and I thought he looked funny, like something out of a Laurel and Hardy film.”
In 1938, Zamperini was back setting records at the collegiate level, this time breaking the mile record of 4:08.3, a new mark that held for 15 years. Zamperini graduated from USC in 1940, a year that would have been the speedster’s next shot at Olympic gold, but World War II intervened.
World War II and Japanese POW Camp
With the outbreak of World War II, the 1940 Olympics were canceled, and Zamperini enlisted in the Army Air Corps. He ended up a bombardier on the B-24 Liberator, and in May 1943, Zamperini and a crew went out on a flight mission to search for a pilot whose plane had gone down. Out over the Pacific Ocean, Zamperini’s plane suffered mechanical failure and crashed into the ocean. Of the 11 men on board, only Zamperini and two other airmen survived the crash, but help was nowhere to be found, and the men were stranded on a raft together for 47 days. The month and a half at sea proved harrowing for the survivors, as they were subjected to the unrelenting sun, strafing runs by Japanese bombers, circling sharks and little drinking water. To survive, they collected rainwater and killed birds that happened to land on the raft.
One of the men died at sea before Zamperini and the plane’s pilot, Russell Allen "Phil" Phillips, finally washed ashore. They found themselves on a Pacific island 2,000 miles from the crash site and in enemy Japanese territory. While saved from the ocean, the men were soon taken as prisoners of war by the Japanese, beginning the next leg of their horrific experience.
In captivity across a series of prison camps, Zamperini and Phillips were separated and subjected to torture, both physical and psychological. They were beaten and starved, and Zamperini was singled out and abused repeatedly by a camp sergeant called the Bird, who would tear into fits of psychotic violence. Yet Zamperini, as a former Olympic athlete, was seen as a propaganda tool by the Japanese, a scenario that likely saved him from execution.
The captivity lasted for more than two years, during which time Zamperini was officially pronounced dead by the U.S. military. Zamperini was released only after the war ended in 1945, and he returned to the United States.
Postwar Life and Legacy
Scarred by his ordeal, upon his return home, Zamperini suffered from alcoholism, and he and his wife, Cynthia, came close to divorce. (They stayed married, though, for 54 years, until her death in 2001.) What brought Zamperini back from the brink was hearing a Billy Graham sermon in Los Angeles in 1949, a sermon that inspired Zamperini and began the healing process.
He went on to found a camp for troubled youth called Victory Boys Camp and forgave his Japanese tormenters. Some received Zamperini’s forgiveness in person in 1950, when he visited a Tokyo prison where they were serving war-crime sentences. In 1998, Zamperini returned to Japan once again to carry the torch at the Nagano Winter Games. He stated his intention to forgive the Bird, Mutsuhiro Watanabe, but Watanabe refused to meet with him.
Zamperini also went on to become a prominent inspirational speaker, and he wrote two memoirs, both titled Devil at My Heels (1956 and 2003). His life has inspired a recent biography as well, Laura Hillenbrand’s Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption. The book has also become the subject of a 2014 film, Unbroken, directed and produced by actress Angelina Jolie, as well as its 2018 sequel Unbroken: Path to Redemption.
Zamperini died at age 97 of pneumonia on July 2, 2014.
The Holiness from Below - A Warning Against Self-Righteousness
As he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct. (1 Peter 1:15) My hunch is that you are not a glib and shallow person. You are not the kind of person who would “pervert the grace of God into sensuality” (Jude 4). You are in earnest with the Lord, and you long to be holy. So do I. Indeed, what we deeply desire is nothing less than — may I come right out and say it? — sainthood. But Christians like us — who care so sincerely about holiness and are reaching so diligently for its high standards — we face our own temptation. Let’s come right out and say that too. If others pervert the grace of God, we can “nullify the grace of God” (Galatians 2:21). We can have “a zeal for God, but not according to knowledge” (Romans 10:2). We can “go beyond what is written . . . being puffed up in favor of one against another” (1 Corinthians 4:6). How could it be otherwise? There is always, in this life, more than one way to lose our way! Our very earnestness can become an opening to corruption, rot, and death. The great pastor and saint Robert Murray McCheyne warned his congregation, “Study sanctification to the utmost, but do not make a Christ of it. God hates this idol more than all others.” We should be serious about that too. So, let’s think about one way we can go so wrong, even while feeling we are so right. Two Kinds of Holiness Here is what we must understand. There are two kinds of holiness. One kind is Jesus’s holiness, and the other is our own self-invented holiness. Or to put it in other ways: There is the holiness of the Spirit, and there is the holiness of the flesh. There is the holiness from above, and the holiness from below. There is real holiness, and false holiness. “Real holiness from Jesus is, of course, like Jesus.” The difference is profound, even stark. But for us, it isn’t always easy to see the difference. Both kinds of holiness quote the Bible. Both talk about Jesus. Both go to church. Both are strict and firm and resolute. How then do these two holinesses differ? Real holiness from Jesus is, of course, like Jesus. Look carefully at what our key verse actually says: “As he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct” (1 Peter 1:15). His kind of holiness does not simply insist on a high moral standard. Any sinner can turn over a new leaf, and with enough willpower align externally with biblical norms. But real holiness reflects Jesus, it thinks like Jesus, its instincts resonate with Jesus. Real holiness embodies Jesus. Beauty of True Holiness When our Lord said, “Follow me” (Mark 1:17), he wasn’t recruiting our moral strengths to advance his cause. His call was and is, “I will teach you a new way of perceiving everything, including morality. I myself am how you avoid sin and become holy.” Jesus is why the Bible speaks of “the beauty of holiness” (Psalm 96:9, KJV). His holiness is humane, life-giving, and desirable in every worthy way. His holiness is both serious enough to warn and light enough to laugh (1 Peter 5:8; Zechariah 8:5); it’s firm and yet also freeing (Deuteronomy 5:32; Malachi 4:2). When we encounter our Lord’s real holiness in someone today, it’s both dignifying and delightful. But false holiness from us is, well, just us. It’s us at our worst, because it’s us exalting our smug superiority, us reinforcing our divisive preferences, us absolutizing our narrow rigidity, and so forth. It’s us asserting ourselves, in the name of the Lord, so that we become more demanding, more grim, more shaming of others. Great Divide I’ll make it still worse. Because false holiness comes so naturally to us, it feels good. Our moral fervor feels moral. But it isn’t. Our moral fervor is immoral. In those moments when we have enough self-awareness to see our carnal holiness for what it is, we are peering into a pit of hell. In Mere Christianity, C. S. Lewis teaches us, The sins of the flesh are bad, but they are the least bad of all sins. All the worst pleasures are purely spiritual: the pleasure of putting other people in the wrong, of bossing and patronizing and spoiling sport and back-biting; the pleasures of power, of hatred. For there are two things inside me, competing with the human self which I must try to become. They are the Animal self, and the Diabolical self. The Diabolical self is the worse of the two. That is why a cold, self-righteous prig who goes regularly to church may be far nearer to hell than a prostitute. But, of course, it is better to be neither. (102–103) If this is so, and it is, then our pursuit of holiness is complicated. We might have expected a choice between two simple categories: sin versus holiness. But in reality, we are facing three categories: (1) sin, (2) our kind of holiness, and, (3) Jesus’s kind of holiness. And the great divide is not between (1) and (2). The great divide is between (2) and (3). Heart of His Holiness If our holiness is no more than that — our wretched rightness — then our holiness is a polished form of evil. The Pharisees proved that. They were morally earnest people and the archvillains of the Gospels. “If our holiness is no more than our wretched rightness, then our holiness is a polished form of evil.” The Pharisees hated Jesus, even while many sinners gravitated to him. Why? Because his kind of holiness has no pride at all. He isn’t pushy and strident and harsh. He really is “gentle and lowly” (Matthew 11:29). And that part of him isn’t a concession, moderating his holiness. It’s at the very heart of his holiness, because it is the very heart of Jesus himself. His kind of holiness melts in the mouths of all who humble themselves before him. This distinction explains something that perplexed me for years. The most repulsive people I’ve encountered along the way are not the worldly party boys on their weekend binges; they are harsh “church people” with their high standards — and no forgiveness. But the loveliest people I’ve ever known have been sinners of many kinds who are turning from both their coarsened evil and their refined evil, and they are humbly opening up to Jesus and his grace for the undeserving. When I hang out with them, Jesus is present. Sometimes I am moved to tears. But among genuinely holy people, I do not feel cornered, pressured, or shamed by their negative scrutiny. The real saints are too holy for that arrogant foolishness. And I hope you have a ton of friends like that! Not Righteousness of My Own It isn’t just our blatant sins that need correction. Our counterfeit holiness needs correction too. It doesn’t need intensification. A. W. Tozer wrote of his generation, “A widespread revival of the kind of Christianity we know today in America might prove to be a moral tragedy from which we would not recover in a hundred years” (Keys to the Deeper Life, 18). I believe that applies even more today. What self-righteous holiness needs is not success, power, and prominence, but failure, collapse, and devastation. Then we can humbly receive Jesus, with the empty hands of faith, and enter into the profound experience Philippians 3:8–9 describes: For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith.