During WWI, the young Willy Wyler watched as the Great War raged through his hometown of Mulhouse, in Alsace, which for generations before, and years to come, would change hands between France and Germany. Mulhouse was the site of continuous fighting during the war, and the teenager had a front row seat. He witnessed a dogfight, running up to the downed plane to find a dead French soldier, keeping a piece of the plane as a souvenir. He saw as the French and German flags were raised on the flagpole of city hall depending on which army held the town. He spent hours in an air raid shelter, watching the battles through a small window, once pushing a dead soldier away so he and his friends could see what was happening on the streets outside. In the mornings his family would emerge, he wryly noted later, to see “whether we were French or German.” Thirty years later, in the midst of WWII, Wyler would find himself in another air raid shelter—this time on a Hollywood backlot with Greer Garson and Walter Pigeon, directing them in scenes where they too wondered if their home would be destroyed in the night. And Wyler would witness more fighting in the skies, himself crouched down in the B-17 bombers of the Army Air Force, or filming the Thunderbolts of the 57th Fighter Group as they crisscrossed the Italian countryside.

When war finally came to the United States in December of 1941, the German Jewish émigré was an experienced Hollywood director at the height of his career and powers, with a streak of Best Picture and Best Director Academy Award nominations unrivaled by his peers. On the morning of December 7, Wyler was hosting John Huston at his home in Bel Air. They were playing tennis when they heard the news about Pearl Harbor. Both were immediately drawn to the fight, itching to get themselves and their cameras to the battlefront. As Talli, Wyler's wife noted, “He couldn't stand the thought of sitting on the sidelines.”