January 26th, 1945. Holtzvir, France, near the Kmar pocket. Second Lieutenant Audi Murphy, 19 years old, watches six German tanks approaching. Behind them, 250 German infantry. Murphy’s company, 18 men, outnumbered 14 to1. A German shell hits an American tank destroyer near Murphy’s position. It erupts in flames. The crew bails out.

 Any second the fuel tank could explode. Murphy orders his men to fall back to the woods. Then he does something insane. He climbs onto the burning tank destroyer, grabs the 50 caliber machine gun, and opens fire. For the next hour, standing alone on a burning vehicle that could explode at any moment. Audi Murphy will hold off an entire German company.

 He’ll kill over 50 enemy soldiers. He’ll take a leg wound and he won’t stop until his ammunition runs out. This is the story of Audi Murphy, the most decorated American combat soldier in history. A boy from nowhere who became a legend. June 20th, 1925, Hunt County, Texas. Audi Leon Murphy is born into crushing poverty. One of 12 children.

 His family sharecroppers. They don’t own land. They farm someone else’s land for a share of the crop. It’s the hardest, most hopeless life in rural Texas. The house is a shack, dirt floor, no electricity, no running water. Audi’s father is a man broken by poverty, restless, unable to provide.

 He abandons the family several times. In 1940, he leaves for good. Audi is 15. The Great Depression has Texas in a strangle hold. The Murphy family is starving. Audi, small for his age, quits school in fifth grade. fifth grade. He picks cotton. 25 cents for 100 pounds. His hands bleed from the sharp cotton bowls. But the family needs every cent.

Audi also hunts. With an old borrowed rifle, he stalks rabbits and squirrels in the scrubland. He has a gift. Sharp eyes, quick reflexes, natural marksmanship. He can hit a running rabbit at 50 yards. These skills keep the family fed. They’ll also keep him alive in war. May 23rd, 1941. Audi’s mother dies, heart disease.

 She’s 46 years old, worn out by poverty and heartbreak. Audi is 16, devastated. His brothers and sisters are split up, orphanages, relatives, wherever they can be placed. The family is shattered. Audi is alone. He works odd jobs, anything he can find. Then December 7th, 1941, Pearl Harbor is attacked. Audi knows what he has to do. He wants to enlist.

Not for glory, not for adventure, for steady pay. Three meals a day, somewhere to belong. He tries the Marines first. They reject him. Too short, 5’5, too light, 110 lb. Then the Army paratroopers rejected again. Too small. Finally, the regular army. June 1942. Audi lies about his age. says he’s 18. He’s really 17.

 His sister signs a falsified consent form. The army accepts him. Private Audie Murphy. At basic training in Camp Walters, Texas, the drill sergeants call him baby. He looks like a child. Babyfaced, softspoken, barely speaks above a whisper. One sergeant tries to transfer him to the kitchen. You’d make a good cook. Murphy refuses.

 Another officer wants him to work in the post exchange. Murphy refuses again. I came here to fight. They send him to North Africa. February 1943. Murphy joins Company B, 15th Infantry Regiment, Third Infantry Division. He’s assigned as a rifleman. Still looks like a kid playing soldier. His first combat, Tunisia, Sicily, Anzio, the Italian campaign. And something happens.

 The quiet Texas boy becomes a killing machine. Natural marksman, fearless under fire. He seems to have a sick sense for where the enemy is hiding. He volunteers for every patrol, every dangerous mission. His fellow soldiers notice. This kid doesn’t freeze, doesn’t panic. When bullets start flying, Murphy gets calmer.

 In Sicily, Murphy earns his first medal, Bronze Star, for destroying a German machine gun nest. In Italy, he’s promoted to corporal. Then sergeant. At Anzio, he kills two German officers trying to use a farmhouse as cover. More medals, but there’s a darkness growing inside him. Every battle he loses friends, men he ate with, joked with, promised to visit after the war.

 Dead, he starts having nightmares, but he keeps fighting. August 15th, 1944. Southern France. Operation Dragoon. Murphy’s unit lands on the beaches near a town called Ramatuella. During the advance, his best friend Latty Tipton is killed by a German sniper, shot in the head right in front of Murphy. Something breaks in Audi that day.

 He becomes colder, more aggressive. He starts taking incredible risks. One day, he single-handedly clears a German strong point, kills six Germans, captures 11 more, distinguished service cross. Another time he’s shot in the hip, refuses evacuation, keeps fighting. Purple heart. Then September 1944, a battlefield commission.

 Private Audi Murphy becomes second lieutenant Audi Murphy. Age 19, no college, fifth grade education, but a born leader. His men trust him absolutely because he never asked them to do anything he won’t do himself. And he always brings them back. January 26th, 1945. Back to that frozen field near Holtz. Murphy and his depleted company, just 40 men, are ordered to hold a position.

Germans control the woods across the field. Midafter afternoon, six German tanks appear, followed by over 200 infantry. Murphy calls for artillery support, coordinates falling shells by radio. Germans fall, but the tanks keep coming. A German shell hits the American tank destroyer 30 yards from Murphy’s position. Direct hit. It catches fire.

The crew abandons it. Murphy sees his men starting to panic. 18 riflemen against six tanks and 250 soldiers. He makes a decision. Get back to the wood. He shouts to his men. Then he does the unthinkable. He runs to the burning tank destroyer. Climbs on top. The metal is hot. Flames licking at the underside.

Any second it could explode. But the tank destroyer has a working 50 caliber machine gun. Murphy grabs it, swings it toward the advancing Germans, opens fire. The Germans are stunned. Who is this madman on the burning tank? They concentrate fire on Murphy’s position. Machine guns, rifles, tank rounds. Murphy keeps firing, calling in artillery corrections on his field telephone. Firing the 50 caliber.

 He’s completely exposed. No cover, no protection, just one man on a burning vehicle. For an hour, 60 minutes. Germans try to flank him through a ditch. Murphy mows them down. More Germans advance across the field. Murphy cuts them down. He’s hit in the leg. Shrapnel tears through his calf. He keeps firing.

 Artillery shells rain down where Murphy directs them. German infantry fall in waves. Still they come. Still Murphy fires. His face is black with smoke, his hands burn from the hot gun, his leg bleeding, but he doesn’t stop. Finally, after an hour, Murphy runs out of ammunition. The machine gun is empty. Murphy slides off the tank destroyer.

 The wound in his leg makes him limp, but he walks back to his men in the woods, organizes them, and leads a counterattack. Wounded, exhausted, covered in blood and soot. He drives the Germans back. When it’s over, Murphy has killed or wounded over 50 Germans. His company suffered only a handful of casualties. Murphy saved them all. Later, someone asks him, “Why did you do it?” Murphy’s answer is simple.

 They were killing my friends. April 23rd, 1945. Audi Murphy is awarded the Medal of Honor, the highest military decoration in the United States, for his actions at Holtz. He’s 19 years old, but by then he’s already earned nearly every other combat award. Distinguished service cross, two silver stars, Legion of Merit, Bronze Star with V, three purple hearts.

 By wars end, Murphy will have 33 awards and decorations, including five from France and Belgium. More decorations than any other American combat soldier in history. He fought in nine major campaigns. Tunisia, Sicily, Naples, Fogia, Anzio, Romero, Southern France, Rhineland, Arden Alsas, Central Europe. He spent over 400 days in combat.

 He’s officially credited with killing 240 enemy soldiers, wounding and capturing hundreds more. He’s too young to vote, but he’s a living legend. When Murphy returns home in June 1945, America goes wild. Heroes welcome. Parades, magazine covers. Life magazine features him. The most decorated soldier of World War II.

 Actor James Kagy sees the life cover, invites Murphy to Hollywood. Murphy goes, but Hollywood isn’t ready for the reality of Audi Murphy. He can’t sleep without a loaded pistol under his pillow. He has nightmares. Violent screaming nightmares. what we now call PTSD, post-traumatic stress disorder. But in 1945, they call it shell shock.

 The studios offer Murphy roles, cowboys, tough guys, but Murphy struggles. He’s not a trained actor, and his demons are eating him alive. For months, he sleeps in a gymnasium, poor again, struggling. Then slowly, roles start coming. Murphy makes 44 films, including To Hell and Back in 1955. his autobiography.

 He plays himself. It becomes Universal Studios highest grossing film for 20 years. Murphy also writes country music, poems, songs. One of his songs, Shutters and Boards, becomes a hit for Jerry Wallace. But the nightmares never stop. Murphy becomes an advocate for veterans with PTSD. He speaks openly about his struggles.

 In an era when men don’t talk about mental health, Murphy talks. I wake up at night and I see dead men. He says, “Friends, Germans, all dead.” He pushes for better treatment, better understanding. He breaks the stigma, but personally, Murphy struggles. Marriages, financial problems, insomnia.

 The war never really ends for him. May 28th, 1971. Audi Murphy is flying in a private plane near Rowanoke, Virginia. Heavy fog. The plane crashes into Brush Mountain. Murphy is killed instantly. He’s 46 years old. June 7th, 1971. Arlington National Cemetery. Audi Murphy is buried with full military honors. The US Army band plays.

 Six black horses pull the case on with his flag draped casket. Thousands attend. Government officials, veterans, ordinary Americans. Among the mourners, six Medal of Honor recipients, men who understand what Murphy endured. Murphy’s grave becomes the second most visited at Arlington. Only President Kennedy’s is visited more.

 Today, Audi Murphy’s legacy lives on. The Audi Murphy Award given to outstanding non-commission officers. The Sergeant Audi Murphy Club honoring excellence in the NCO Corps. In 2013, Texas awards Murphy the Texas Legislative Medal of Honor. Streets, schools, buildings named after him. But Murphy’s real legacy is what he represented.

 A kid from nothing who became everything. Courage under fire, leadership by example, loyalty to your men, and the willingness to speak honestly about the cost of war. Murphy once said, “I’m glad I was a soldier. It’s what made me somebody. But nobody should want to be a soldier. Not really. Because once you’ve seen what I’ve seen, you’re never the same.

 Audi Murphy proved that heroes aren’t born. They’re made by circumstances, by choices, by sacrifice. That size doesn’t matter. Background doesn’t matter. What matters is what you do when everything is on the line. And on that frozen field in France, on a burning tank destroyer, Audi Murphy showed the world what one man can do when he refuses to quit.

 When he fights for his friends. When he stands alone against impossible odds. The most decorated American combat soldier in history. Started as a sharecropper’s son who couldn’t read past fifth grade. Became a legend. Thank you for watching.