Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption

in 1936 Olympic games held in Berlin, Germany. His opponents and some of the foremost in the country speak highly of him. He has run against such names as (Bensig) and Cunningham. The same personality that so endeared him to us as he raced against time on the tracks of the world is not dead but very much alive and with us yet. We regret the unhappiness that must have accompanied the news of his reported death but hope that the efforts of his fellow prisoners of war on “Postman Calls” will (atone) in some small way for the error.
So chin up, Mrs. Louis Zamperini of (Torrance) California, Louis is here; the same old Louis, cheerful, sportsmanlike, the idol of all our Southern California fans and graduates. You might pass the glad tidings along, Mrs. Zamperini, for we know all the lovers of the (spiked shoe) sport will b [
sic
] glad to hear this. Louis is not on the track anymore an [
sic
] for that we are sorry. He will be missed there. Louis is neither missing nor dead as has been reported and for that we are more than glad. It makes us very happy indeed to have performed this service for our prisoners and relatives and it is out [
sic
] earnest wish that no other such instances of this information will be forthcoming. We hope this little group of prisoners connected with “Postman Calls” program can be of further service in the future. That’s what we’re here for, so keep on listening, Mrs. Zamperini, and don’t mention it; the pleasure is all ours.

    Moody typed as fast as she could, making a string of typos in her exhilaration. About an hour later, the FCC woman came back. “I practically danced around the room telling her about it,” Moody later wrote.
    Down the coast in Torrance, the Zamperinis were coping with the aftermath of the public announcement of Louie’s death. After a package came bearing Louie’s Purple Heart, a letter arrived concerning his life insurance payout, $10,000. Louise deposited the money in the bank but didn’t spend any of it. When Louie came home, she declared, it would be his. And after the news of Louie’s death broke, the film director Cecil B. DeMille showed up to do a radio interview with the family for the Sixth War Bond Drive. Sylvia and Louise were given scripts that called for them to speak of Louie as if he were dead. Out of politeness, the Zamperinis read the scripts as written.
    Somewhere in all of this, a deliveryman came, bearing a bouquet of flowers for Sylvia. It was an anniversary gift from her husband, Harvey, now manning a tank gun in Holland. A few days later she got a telegram: Harvey had been wounded. The telegram said nothing of what his injuries were, or how serious. Sylvia waited, knotted with anxiety. Finally, a letter arrived, composed by Harvey and dictated to a nurse from his hospital bed. His tank had been hit and had burst into flames. He had escaped, but his hands and face were burned. Of all the terrible scenarios that had run through Sylvia’s mind, fire was the one thing that she’d never imagined. Harvey was, after all, a firefighter. Exhaustedand barely able to eat, Sylvia crept through November, haunted by nightmares and growing ever more gaunt.
    ——

    On November 20, Lynn Moody, still in high spirits over the broadcast about Louie two days before, was back working the midnight-to-eight shift. At two-thirty A.M. , one of the FCC transcribers yelled to her to come quickly.
    Moody ran in, put on the earphones, and listened. It was
Postman Calls
again. “Hello, America,” the announcer began, “this is the postman calling and bringing a special message as promised earlier in tonight’s program to Mrs. Louis Zamperini, 2028 Gramercy Street, Torrance, California. We hope Mrs. Zamperini is listening in tonight for we have a real treat for her. Her son has come down to the studio especially to send her this message of reassurance after the erroneous report of a few days ago by the United States War Department, that he was officially given up as dead and missing. We assure Mrs. Zamperini that such is not the case. The next voice heard will be that of First Lieutenant Louis Helzie [
sic
] Zamperini, United States Air Force, now interned in the Tokyo camp. Go right ahead, Lieutenant Zamperini.”
    A young man’s voice came across the airwaves. Moody knew the instant she heard it: It was Louie.
    ——

    Hello mother and father, relatives and friends. This is your Louie talking. Through the courtesy of the authorities here I am