Chapter 4
Into the Pacific: The Flying Coffin
Louie was assigned to the B-24 Liberator, a bomber notoriously difficult to fly. Pilots developed asymmetrical muscles from working the controls, their left arms becoming visibly larger than their right. The plane was unstable in formation flying, with even slight turbulence throwing it off balance. Mechanical problems plagued the aircraft-engine failures were common, tails had been known to drop off mid-flight, and the thin wings could snap if struck in combat. When Phil's crew first saw their assigned B-24D, someone muttered, "It's the Flying Coffin."
Despite these flaws, Phil's crew spent three months practically living in their plane, flying training missions. They experienced their first scare when radio trouble left them lost for hours before landing in Spokane. Such concerns were justified-the Army Air Forces suffered 52,651 stateside accidents during the war, killing 14,903 personnel, mostly in training. The men underwent extensive crash survival training, though Phil found the idea of water-landing a B-24 "kind of silly" since training films showed the planes breaking apart on impact.
In October 1942, their training was cut short, and they deployed to Hawaii. Arriving at Oahu's Kahuku base, they found an island still bearing scars from Pearl Harbor, under strict blackout conditions with barbed wire along beaches. The crew excelled in aerial gunnery and bombing accuracy, with Louie achieving outstanding scores. During monotonous ten-hour sea patrols, they combated boredom with practical jokes, reading novels, and once even buzzing a submarine whose crew had ignored their identification signals.
For each day flying, the crew got a day off. They played poker, enjoyed care packages from Phil's girlfriend Cecy, and Louie maintained his Olympic conditioning by running laps around the runway. They discovered elaborate fake airfields made of plywood designed to fool Japanese reconnaissance, and found culinary paradise at the House of P.Y. Chong steakhouse, where $2.50 bought a steak "nearly as fat as a man's arm and as broad as his head."
By December 1942, the crew was growing restless for combat. Three days before Christmas, they finally got their chance. Ordered to pack for three days and report to their planes, they found their B-24 fitted with auxiliary fuel tanks and six 500-pound bombs. After flying to Midway, they learned their mission: bombing the Japanese base on Wake Atoll in what would be the longest combat flight of the Pacific war so far-sixteen hours nonstop.
Chapter 5
Five Hundred and Ninety-four Holes
For airmen, death wasn't abstract-it claimed their roommates and drinking buddies without warning. Men didn't go individually; a quarter of a barracks would vanish at once. There were rarely funerals because there were rarely bodies. Men simply disappeared.
Though they avoided discussing death, many airmen were privately tormented by fear. One man in Louie's squadron suffered chronic stress-induced nosebleeds; another froze with terror in flight. The men coped differently-Louie tried reading his military-issued Bible but abandoned it, preferring classical music and running to soothe his anxiety. He also prepared meticulously, installing metal plating in his plane for protection and taking classes on survival, wound care, and even shark defense.
In February 1943, the crew visited Canton, a desolate coral island where bored servicemen entertained themselves by feeding hand grenades to sharks trapped in the lagoon at low tide. The crew flew two missions over Japanese-occupied islands in the Gilberts. During one mission, when clouds obscured their target on Makin, Louie gleefully dropped three thousand pounds of bombs on a row of outhouses.
In April 1943, Louie's crew was assigned to a major raid on Nauru, a tiny eight-square-mile island prized for its phosphate deposits. Twenty-three B-24s were dispatched to destroy the phosphate works. The mission briefing troubled the crew-they were instructed to approach at just eight thousand feet, an altitude they considered dangerously low for antiaircraft fire.
As they approached Nauru under clear morning skies, the first nine planes crossed unopposed in eerie silence. As they reached their targets, suddenly the sky erupted with flak and tracer fire. The planes on their left and right wings were hit almost simultaneously and went down. Louie managed to drop bombs on the parked planes, barracks, and an antiaircraft battery. Then nine Japanese Zeros swarmed the bombers, attacking with astonishing boldness at point-blank range.
Their plane took devastating damage, losing much of its right rudder and suffering a hole in the bomb bay. The Zeros' cannon fire wounded five crew members. Despite their injuries, the gunners fought back fiercely, downing three enemy fighters. With their bomber gravely wounded-hydraulic lines severed, rudder cables damaged, and fuel leaking-Phil struggled to keep the crippled bomber airborne for the five-hour return flight.
Without hydraulic brakes and facing a runway too short for their damaged plane, they faced a perilous landing. As they approached the island, Louie secured the injured men with parachute cord and prepared two parachutes to deploy from the waist windows as makeshift brakes. Despite coming in too fast at 110 mph with a flat left tire, Phil managed a miraculous landing, spinning the plane to a stop just short of two parked bombers. Ground crews later counted 594 holes in the fuselage. Tragically, despite their successful return, Harry Brooks died from his wounds just before his twenty-third birthday.
Chapter 6
Adrift: Forty-Seven Days on the Pacific
On May 27, 1943, Louie and his crewmates boarded a notoriously unreliable B-24 called the Green Hornet for a search mission to locate a missing aircraft. Before departing, Louie told friends, "If we're not back in a week, you'll know we're gone." The plane suffered catastrophic engine failure and crashed into the Pacific Ocean.
As Green Hornet struck the water at high speed, the plane blew apart. Louie was pulled deep underwater, entangled in wires, then suddenly flung upward as the fuselage briefly surfaced before sinking again. Trapped under the gun mount and bound by wires, Louie fought desperately as the plane sank. He passed out from lack of oxygen, then inexplicably awoke free from the wires. Finding himself at the waist window, he pushed himself out as the plane continued its descent.
On the surface, Louie found pilot Phil Phillips and tail gunner Francis McNamara (nicknamed "Mac") clinging to debris. Phil was bleeding profusely from head wounds, and neither man had a life vest. Spotting a drifting life raft, Louie swam for it, barely catching its trailing cord. He secured a second raft, tied them together, and brought both men aboard.
Their provisions were grossly inadequate-only chocolate bars, a few half-pint tins of water, a brass mirror, flare gun, sea dye, fishing hooks, line, air pumps, and basic tools. They lacked essential survival equipment-no sun tarpaulin, first aid kit, knife, compass, or radio transmitter. Mac, previously silent, suddenly began wailing that they were going to die. Louie slapped him quiet and established strict rationing: one square of chocolate morning and evening, with two or three sips of water daily per man.
The next morning, Louie discovered Mac had eaten all their chocolate rations during the night. Though disappointed, Louie curbed his irritation, reassuring himself they'd soon be rescued. When they heard a B-25 flying overhead, Louie fired flares and released dye packs, but the plane continued on, oblivious. The sighting revealed they were drifting westward, away from flight lanes and rescue.
As days passed, the men suffered terribly under the equatorial sun. Their lips ballooned, skin cracked open, and salt sores formed on their feet. When rain finally came on their third waterless day, they improvised collectors using canvas pump cases. Desperate for food, Louie caught an albatross that landed on his head, but its fetid meat proved inedible. Using it as bait, they finally caught a small pilot fish after sharks took several hooks.
To maintain sanity, Louie and Phil turned their raft into a nonstop quiz show, sharing histories and memories. They developed a ritual of describing Louie's mother's cooking in elaborate detail, somehow briefly fooling their stomachs. Through these conversations, they pulled themselves out of suffering and created something to live for. Only Mac remained silent and hopeless.
After two weeks adrift, their bodies were deteriorating-skin burned and cracked, flesh evaporating, faces sunken. They survived on occasional catches-another albatross, a few small fish, and some terns. Louie devised ingenious fishing methods, including tying hooks to his fingers to catch pilot fish. Water remained their greatest challenge, with periods of agonizing thirst broken by occasional rain showers that came after desperate prayers.
Chapter 7
Captivity: The Bird's Reign of Terror
After forty-seven days adrift, Louie and Phil were captured by Japanese sailors. They were taken to Kwajalein, known as "Execution Island," where they were kept in filthy cells next to the names of Marines who had been beheaded. The guards maintained constant fury toward the captives, subjecting them to daily abuse-throwing stones, lit cigarettes, spitting on them, and poking them with sticks.
After 42 days on "Execution Island," they were transferred to Ofuna, a secret interrogation center near Yokohama where "high-value" prisoners were kept in isolation, starved and tortured. The approximately 200 captives there lived under strict rules-no speaking, no eye contact, constant downcast eyes-with severe punishments for the slightest infractions. Guards reminded prisoners that no one knew they were alive and could be killed without consequence.
Daily life at Ofuna began at 6am with tenko (roll call), where prisoners stood in line, counted off in Japanese, and bowed to Emperor Hirohito. Meals consisted of watery slop eaten alone in cells. Prisoners were forced to clean floors by bending double and running with wet ropes, then subjected to exhausting exercise followed by sitting outside in silence, hearing only screams from the interrogation room.
In September 1944, Louie was transferred to Omori POW camp near Tokyo, where he encountered Corporal Mutsuhiro Watanabe, nicknamed "the Bird"-a guard with large, pawlike hands and a mercurial temperament that terrified prisoners and Japanese alike. Born to a wealthy family and educated at prestigious Waseda University, Watanabe had been rejected for officer rank-a humiliation that seemingly warped his psyche.
What made Watanabe particularly terrifying was his unpredictability-he would violently attack prisoners, then tearfully apologize, only to explode again moments later. Sometimes he'd force prisoners to socialize with him, hosting concerts and literary discussions. From their first encounter, he became obsessed with Louie Zamperini, an officer and famous Olympian with a defiant nature.
At Omori, prisoners developed elaborate systems to track and avoid "the Bird." Despite these precautions, he hunted Louie relentlessly, beating him daily. The camp didn't register Louie with the Red Cross, deliberately hiding him from international oversight while his family remained uninformed of his survival.
As Allied bombing intensified over Japan, the Bird's paranoia and violence escalated dramatically. He forced POWs to stand in the open during bombings, conducted manic midnight "fire drills" in freezing rain, and beat Louie three to four times weekly in what one POW called his "death lunge." Louie began having nightmares where he strangled the Bird, convinced Watanabe wouldn't stop until he was dead.
Chapter 8
Liberation and the Long Road Home
On August 15, 1945, the guards suddenly disappeared, leaving the POWs alone. Guards were found huddled around a radio, listening intently to Emperor Hirohito's surrender announcement, though they kept this news from the prisoners.
On August 20, the camp commander finally announced that "the war has come to a point of cessation" and strangely invited the prisoners to bathe in the Hokura River. While the naked men were in the water, an American torpedo bomber suddenly appeared overhead. When the men spotted the white stars on the plane's wings, a radioman cried out, "The war is over!"
A joyous, naked stampede of prisoners rushed back to camp, tearing down fences and celebrating wildly as the Japanese guards withdrew. The pilot dropped a message promising to return with supplies, along with a partially eaten candy bar and cigarettes. The Bird, who the prisoners had plotted to kill, had already fled into the countryside.
Three days later, six B-29s arrived with "Food for POWs" written on their wings, dropping pallets under red, white, and blue parachutes. The supplies rained down everywhere-some hitting the compound, others landing in rice paddies where gleeful prisoners chased after them. Boxes broke open, spilling cascades of pink peaches and vegetables across the countryside.
The prisoners gorged themselves on American food. Louie ate condensed split pea soup straight from the can without adding water. That night, men lay down with swollen stomachs, wrapped in American parachutes, experiencing the strange sensation of being too full rather than hungry.
The liberation revealed the staggering scale of Japanese atrocities. Of 132,000 Allied POWs held by Japan, nearly 36,000 died-more than one in four. Americans suffered particularly badly with a 37 percent death rate, compared to just 1 percent of Americans held by Nazis and Italians.
On September 5, Louie packed his diary, record from Tinker, and letters from home, then joined his fellow POWs as they marched out of camp behind their national flags. As the train departed for Yokohama, Louie waved goodbye to the war. At Yokohama station, the POWs were greeted by American women in immaculate uniforms-"the great American blonde" as Tom Wade described it.
Chapter 9
Broken: The Aftermath of Trauma
Phil Phillips finally returned home on October 16 after four years away, reuniting with his mother, sister, friends, and most importantly, with Cecy, the woman whose image had sustained him throughout his ordeal. Four weeks later, Phil and Cecy were married in a ceremony officiated by Reverend Phillips at Cecy's parents' house.
When Louie landed in Long Beach, he ran to his sobbing mother and embraced her, whispering, "Cara mamma mia." Upon arriving at his parents' home, Louie initially seemed fine, telling his family he felt the little house "was worth all of it." But when Sylvia played a recording of Louie's propaganda broadcast, he began screaming uncontrollably, demanding she break the record. That night, when he finally fell asleep, the Bird followed him into his dreams.
Louie found himself thrust into unwanted celebrity, giving ninety-five speeches in his first weeks home. But beneath his familiar grin, friends noticed something troubled "rustling just behind his eyes." He began suffering from anxiety and nightmares of the Bird screaming "Next! Next! Next!" To cope with public appearances, he started drinking, first adding whiskey to his morning coffee, then carrying a flask everywhere.
The psychological toll of captivity manifested in countless ways among former POWs. Some slept on floors, unable to adjust to beds. Others ducked at sudden movements or experienced hallucinations. Milton McMullen found himself speaking Japanese in his sleep, while another ex-prisoner felt compelled to scavenge in garbage cans. Some became violently hostile toward Asians.
In mid-March 1946, while having a drink at Miami Beach's Deauville Club, Louie spotted an arrestingly beautiful young woman entering the room. Her name was Cynthia Applewhite, just twenty years old, wealthy and well-educated but rebellious and adventure-seeking. After knowing each other less than two weeks, Louie proposed on a beach walk. Though Cynthia wasn't entirely sure of her feelings, she agreed.
Despite agreeing to wait until fall for a formal wedding at the Applewhite mansion, the couple impulsively married on May 25, 1946. Their wedding night was spent with Cynthia crying on the phone as her mother berated her, while Louie drank a bottle of champagne alone and fell asleep.
After his honeymoon, Louie returned to Los Angeles with no clear career path. His nightmares returned with vengeful intensity-the Bird towering over him nightly, lashing his face. Desperate, Louie threw himself into training for the 1948 Olympics. His body responded well, even clocking impressive times, but running had lost its joy. When he pushed through ankle pain during a two-mile time trial, he suffered a catastrophic reinjury that ended his Olympic dreams forever.
Chapter 10
Redemption: Finding Peace Through Forgiveness
In late 1948, while Louie spiraled deeper into alcoholism and rage, Japanese police intensified their search for Mutsuhiro Watanabe, with officers across Japan hunting the fugitive war criminal. In Nagano Prefecture, Watanabe was posing as a farm laborer named Saburo Ohta, complete with a mustache and a cover story about being a Tokyo refugee who had lost all his family.
Meanwhile in Los Angeles, September 1949, evangelist Billy Graham began a revival that would transform from a modest gathering to a sensation drawing thousands nightly. Though initially resistant, Louie eventually agreed to attend after persistent urging from Cynthia, who had experienced a religious awakening and decided not to divorce him.
During Graham's sermon, Louie was deeply moved by words about God's presence in suffering, reminding him of moments of inexplicable grace during his ordeal. As Louie tried to flee, he was suddenly overwhelmed by the memory of his promise on the raft: "If you will save me, I will serve you forever." In that moment of clarity, Louie turned back toward Graham, experiencing his final flashback and the beginning of his transformation.
After his spiritual transformation, Louie poured his liquor down the drain, discarded his cigarettes and magazines, and awoke the next morning feeling cleansed. For the first time in five years, the Bird hadn't invaded his dreams. Finding peace in reading his Bible, Louie wept softly as he embraced a new understanding of himself-not as the broken man the Bird had tried to make him, but as someone saved by divine love. Within a year, he had begun a new life as a Christian speaker, telling his story across America while living modestly with Cynthia and their daughter Cissy.
Louie returned to Japan not seeking revenge but to answer a question about the resilience of his newfound peace. At Sugamo Prison, he faced 850 former guards, recognizing familiar faces. The Bird was absent, reportedly having committed suicide while in hiding. When Louie learned of Watanabe's fate, he experienced an unexpected feeling of compassion rather than hatred. In that moment, forgiveness came to him-"beautiful and effortless and complete." When his former tormentors approached him hesitantly, Louie surprised himself by bounding down the aisle toward them with extended hands and a radiant smile. For Louie Zamperini, the war was finally over.
Chapter 11
Legacy: A Life Redeemed
In 1954, Louie established Victory Boys Camp in California's San Gabriel Mountains, creating a haven for troubled youth. With minimal resources but boundless determination, he transformed a dilapidated site into a beautiful camp where he guided lost boys through outdoor activities, vocational exploration, and evening campfire talks about his own journey. Many boys who arrived as ruffians left renewed and reformed.
Louie received countless honors throughout his life-Zamperini Field was rededicated to him multiple times, USC named a plaza after him, and he carried the Olympic torch before five different Games. His body defied age and punishment; in his sixties, he still climbed Cahuenga Peak weekly and ran sub-six-minute miles. At eighty-five, he was skateboarding, and at ninety, neighbors spotted him in treetops with chainsaws. His infectious cheerfulness never waned-he once remarked that he hadn't been angry in forty years, maintaining his conviction that everything happened for a reason.
In 1996, Louie received shocking news: "The Bird is alive." Mutsuhiro Watanabe had been hiding in the Japanese countryside since the war, working as an ice cream vendor and rice farmer. In March 1952, he discovered that arrest orders for suspected war criminals had been lifted-part of America's shifting priorities as the Cold War emerged and an alliance with Japan became strategically important.
After returning to his family home, Watanabe married, had two children, and built a successful insurance business in Tokyo, living in a luxury apartment worth $1.5 million. In 1995, he finally spoke publicly about his wartime actions, telling the Daily Mail, "I want to apologize. A deep, deep apology... I was severe. Very severe." He claimed he'd only been following orders and blamed the war itself rather than accepting personal responsibility.
When CBS tracked down Watanabe in 1997, he recognized Louie's name immediately: "Six hundred prisoner. Zamperini number one." Though initially agreeing to meet Louie, who wanted to offer forgiveness in person, Watanabe ultimately refused the meeting. Louie wrote him a letter of forgiveness anyway, explaining how his hatred had been replaced by love through his Christian faith. Watanabe died in April 2003, never having responded.
On January 22, 1998, just days before his eighty-first birthday, Louie Zamperini returned to the place that had once been his prison. With snow falling gently around him, he carried the Olympic torch through Naoetsu, his weathered body still strong, the scar from the Green Hornet crash still visible on his hand. As he ran through the place where cages had once held him, he was surrounded by smiling Japanese faces-children, former mill workers, civilians and 120 Japanese soldiers formed in columns to let him pass. The cages were long gone, and so was the Bird. There remained only "the voices, the falling snow, and the old and joyful man, running."
