I read the most remarkable book this weekend, in one sitting, about a real American hero, the fellow below …. back when “hero” actually meant something. The book is titled “Devil At My Heels“.

If you’re a WWII history buff, you will love this book.  If you have, or had, a pathetic life, you will love this book … because your travails almost certainly can’t match what this man endured.  If you think the “Greatest Generation” meme is not true, you will love this book .. because they are the greatest generation and the truth will set you free.  If you are a Doubting Thomas, you will love this book … because Mr. Zamperini’s faith could kindle yours.If there is someone in your life you can not forgive … reading this book might give you the strength to do so.

If you’re none of the above, you will still love this book because I said you will!

Below is the afterward written by the author.  BTW,  I couldn’t find it online so I had to type this all out myself.  You’re welcome.  At any rate, it will give you a good idea what kind of man he was, and whether or not you might enjoy the book as much as I claim you will.

Closing thoughts.  It is MEN like this — not lots of money and fancy weapons — that win wars.  I can’t help but wonder how many men like this are in the US Military Machine today?  Of  course, I don’t know.  But, my SWAG is the percentage is in the very low single digits.  (But, yeah, our Generals are confident we can beat the combined might of Russia and China. God help us.)

Enjoy.

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Afterward by Louis Zamperini

When Devil at My Heels was published in 2003, I was eighty-six years old. Because of everything I’d been through in my life — and survived — I opened the book with these words: “I’ve always been called lucky Louie.  It’s no mystery why.“

For those of you new to this edition, a quick recap:

I grew up in Torrance, CA, and was what we call today a juvenile delinquent until I turned my life around in high school and became a championship runner who went to the 1936 Olympics. I might have been one of the first men to break the four-minute mile barrier, but when WWII broke out and the 1940 Olympics were cancelled, I decided to serve my country instead.

In 1943 the bomber I was aboard crashed into the Pacific Ocean on a rescue mission. I was one of three who miraculously survived. Although one man died on the thirty-third day at sea, the pilot and I endured forty-seven days of drifting thwo thousand miles westward, only to be captured by the Japanese. They imprisoned, tortured, and humiliated us.  I was singled out by a sadistic and psychotic prison guard who wanted to make me record a propaganda radio message.  But I never once gave into pressure.

Two and a half  years later the war ended and we were damaged but free.  Back in Los Angeles, I was haunted by nightmare of being a POW.  I became a brawler and an alcoholic and almost lost my wife,but after listening to a sermon by the then-young Billy Graham, I managed to look up and find faith before I hit bottom. I subsequently returned to Japan and met with my captors — and forgave them.  Later I started an outreach camp for wayward boys, worked to become a respected member of the community, and told my story to anyone who would listen.

I could have been bitter what had happened to me, but if I learned one thing in life it’s that all things work together for good. I didn’t know it at the time — and frankly I wouldn’t want to repeat the miseries I’ve been through — but in the end they all added up to many of the opportunities, accolades, and experiences I’ve had since.

When in 2001, William Morrow asked me to write the story you’re reading right now, I knew I was very lucky indeed. Now I’m almost ninety-four years old, and still going strong.  A lot has happened since. [Stucky Note: Louis Zamperini died on July 2, 2014]

The reaction to Devil At My Heels was nothing short of overwhelming. I thought I was a busy man before the book was published, but I had no idea how busy I’d become. I get calls and letters almost every day from readers young and old, and I answer them all. I have more requests for speaking engagements that I can handle and am constantly on the go.

Another positive outcome: Devil At My Heels has been accepted as a World War II history text book by schools across the nation — which is fantastic. The recognition has made it possible for me to speak often to the armed forces here and overseas.  I’m grateful that the book’s reviews were terrific, but much more important is the way people have reached out to me because of what they’ve read.

I’m often asked about my generation, which some people call the Greatest Generation but which I also call the Hardy Generation. What made us hardy? The Depression years. We were not spoiled with money, that’s for sure. When we had disputes we didn’t use attorneys; we settled them on the street, even got broken bones and noses from fighting. In all ways we helped one another. We shared, we had neighborhood picnics, we made our own toys.  (There were no toy stores; I built racing cars.) I also rode one of the first skateboards, with a box on the front. We had a single soccer ball for four or five blocks’ worth of kids; you were lucky if you got to kick it once.  We had free time to burn.  Distractions? Radio, yes,but no TV. Movies were only once a week.

We were happier than people are today, despite the hard times. We overcame diversity and each time we did we enhanced our hardiness.

We also knew how to win and lose gracefully. When I was a young runner, I went undefeated for three and a half years. But I knew that this winning streak could not go on forever, that some day I’d lose. So I asked myself what kind of loser I wanted to be. I decided that I’d handle it with grace. Four or five months later that day arrived. When another runner won the race I went over and congratulated the man. The runner’s family and girlfriend embraced me.  Today losing teams stare at the ground. Just once I’d lie to see the losing coach walk over and congratulate the winning coach.

Almost every day I am asked to speak to a wide variety of groups. Although I can’t meet with everyone, I try my best to honor requests, especially from schools. I have spoken to thousands of students, from middle school to college. I don’t simply tell my war stories though. I show a DVD and then I ask for questions and get into topics that are pertinent to the students’ lives now and in the future.  I try  to relate to what they are interested in today and what bothers them now.

Many of the questions have to do with role models who’ve failed kids today and why — also about sex and drugs and adultery. Students ask how it was in my day and when I tell them they can’t believe it. It makes me very  happy when they — or any readers — write to say, “I though I had problems, but now, knowing what you went through, I’ve stopped feeling sorry for myself. I’m going to quit tearing myself apart and treat my problems more lightly.“

I also like to talk about stress, its consequences, and how to control it. That’s so important in this day and age.

Sometimes I tell this story: I once got a call inquiring why I hadn’t applied for POW benefits. As a POW, I was entitled to some healthy benefits from the government. I agreed to come in and apply, assuming that it only involved signing a few papers. Instead, I was subjected to a week’s worth of physical examinations, followed by an interview with a psychologist.  When I arrived at the therapist’s office, she told me to sit down and began asking me how I relieved the stress and tension she assumed I must have.

“I don’t have any,” I said.

The therapist said, “That’s ridiculous. Everyone has stress and tension.“

“Well, I don’t,” I said.

I could tell that she didn’t believe me, so I explained. It came down to this: “I don’t let it in, so there’s nothing to let out.“

The therapist kept grilling me, which I think was her way of trying to provoke some sort of tension or anxiety to disprove my claim. She failed. The session ran forty-five minutes long, and when it finally ended the therapist smiled and said, “I’ve learned something today.“

What I’ve learned is that the more you help people, the longer you live. The good feelings are a healing process. If you’re madly in love, the same thing happens.  I could go into depth about this, but let’s just say that you get flooded with white corpuscles and it boosts your immune system. You’ll even get over a cold more quickly. I haven’t been sick for twenty years.

Call my life charmed, and I would agree. At almost ninety-four years old I am an example of the blessings of a beneficial lifestyle that is a combination of exercise, diet, cheerful attitude, and charity.

I’ve always been determined to make the most of my life and luck. It’s always been important to me to learn everything that I could. (I even quit going to movies to have more time to accomplish my dreams. I figured I’ve also saved about $15,000 dollars.) Today I am licensed, accomplished, or an expert in eighty-four fields: Scuba diving and skiing instructor. Lifeguard. Glacier climber, skier. Flier.

But when I think of the events in my life, the injuries, broken bones, tortures, and many near-death experiences — boy, do I have stories to tell — I have always wondered in retrospect if I would be willing to repeat the events of my life again. Yes, I’ve had many great days that balanced the scale. There have been dramatic achievements, adventures, family, and friends that neutralized the catastrophic events. But, as I said above, the answer is no. …..  I’ve always been called Lucky Louie, It’s no mystery why.

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THE END

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Author: Stucky

I'm right, you're wrong. Deal with it. View all posts by Stucky