Tom Brokaw

"So Weinberger reported to MacArthur's headquarters in Brisbane, where he was a very junior officer on the staff of the legendary general. Nonetheless, he saw enough to have a full appreciation of MacArthur's brilliance. "I saw the plans for the invasion of Japan," Weinberger says. "The breadth and scope of MacArthur's brilliance. With very few troops, a couple of understrength divisions, and some Australian militia forces, he accomplished an enormous amount in the Pacific." The young intelligence officer also learned directly from MacArthur about judgment and decision making. Weinberger was on duty one night as American forces were moving on a small island, lightly occupied by the Japanese, to take it for a radio base. Suddenly, there were reports of a Japanese ship and Japanese aircraft in the vicinity. Weinberger thought he'd better take this information directly to MacArthur. "So I walked two blocks to his hotel," Weinberger remembers. "I got through the various security and gave him the message He came out in his bathrobe, looking just as erect and imposing as he did in full uniform, that magnificent posture, deep voice. He looked the message over carefully and said, 'Well, Lieutenant, what do you think?' I said, 'General, I think it's a coincidence that they're there. They don't seem to have hostile intent. I would go ahead with the landing.' General MacArthur said, 'That's what I think, too. Good night.'" Weinberger walked back through the night to his post "in fear and trembling — to see if I was wrong or not. Fortunately, it worked out.""

"When I was a young man in the 1950s, right after World War II, there was a special category of hero everyone in America recognized: the men who wore the distinctive ribbon and star of the Medal of Honor. In those years when the legacy of war and sacrifice, bravery and humility was a touchstone in every community, the very mention of the Medal of Honor was part of the secular liturgy, an ideal to be honored and always remembered."

"I have learned from the MOH recipients invaluable and common lessons. They have an enduring humility about their heroic acts, almost always saying, "I'd rather talk about my buddy who didn't come back." They represent the fundamental fabric of America ethnically, geographically, and economically. They come in all sizes. My friend Jack Jacobs, a Vietnam-era MOH recipient, is a bantamweight. The late Joe Foss looked as if he could be a middle linebacker until the day he died in his mid-eighties. Bob Bush lost an eye on Okinawa, but he sees reality twice as well as anyone I know. Over the years I've been privileged to attend any number of big deals, from presidential summits to state dinners to royal weddings, World Series, Super Bowls, and Broadway openings, but nothing means as much to me as the time I've spent with the Medal of Honor recipients, many of whom you will read about in this book. They always make me laugh, make me cry, and, most of all, make me proud that we're fellow citizens."

"Tripp: Saw your friend out front. Guy thinks he's Tom Brokaw. Horatio: If he's Tom Brokaw, I'm Elliot Ness."

"Greatest generation my ass, Tom Brokaw is a punk!"