esmond T. Doss has a remarkable story. It has been told twice in book form: first as The Unlikeliest Hero, by Booton Herndon (Pacific Press, 1967), the book I read when I was a kid; and more recently as Desmond Doss, in God's Care, by Frances Doss (The College Press, 1998). Finally, this exceptional story is out on film.

Although filmmaker Terry Benedict had long wanted to make a Doss film, when he got the opportunity, the task was daunting, and not just because money is almost always a challenge in moviemaking. There were many ways the story could be told, many ways to assemble the various pieces of the story. How would Benedict find and assemble the pieces and create a compelling composite?

The "final" product (I saw a demo cut finished last September; more work has been done on the film since) uses old photographs, letters, newspaper clippings and newsreel footage, panels from a 1940s comic book version of Doss's story, interviews with veterans who served with Doss, visits to places important to the story, landscape shots, and excerpts from interviews with Doss himself.

Perhaps the most important document in the film is the illustrated Ten Commandments that hung on the wall of the Doss home when Desmond was growing up. This is a story about a man who was anchored in the highest ideals from a young age, and the commandments were his anchor.

In our day we often confuse "hero" with "celebrity," and it's good to be reminded of the difference. Doss is not a hero for being able to slam-dunk, for having a handsome jawline, or for marrying Jennifer Lopez; but rather, for his moral stature, amply illustrated by numerous incidents recounted in the film. It was not just the astounding feat of lowering 75 men over Hacksaw Ridge during 12 hours of intense combat on Okinawa in 1945.

Doss had to show heroic fortitude to even get to Hacksaw Ridge. He suffered tremendous pressure in basic training to alter his conscientious objector status and bear arms, including threats of court martial from superior officers and constant hounding from his fellow soldiers. That Doss could remain supportive of his country and willing to put his life on the line time and again for his men after the way he was treated illustrates extraordinary selflessness.

The sections of the film I appreciated most were the ample but well-selected interviews with veterans, soldiers who served with Doss. You see the deeply lined faces (often juxtaposed with their handsome young poses in uniform more than a half century earlier), the labored steps, the age spots, and you listen to the voices calling up vivid memories, tinctured with the perspective of old age. There are some wonderful extreme close-ups of mouths, fingers, lips, as the story comes out.

The film reveals how this group of articulate old men are really attached to Doss, to the ideals he stood for. You see how they could have changed from teasing him and belittling him to have respect and awe for what he was able to accomplish when the machine-gun bullets were thick overhead and the strongest men doubted.

Finally, The Conscientious Objector shows Doss, with his "reedy" voice (as one reviewer put it), his slow movements, his speech impediment (associated with his deafness), his plain way of speaking, his simplicity, his humility, and you try to comprehend what he did and how he did it all those years ago. You appreciate his heroism because it shows what a person committed to serving God can accomplish, and his example makes you want to be that kind of person too.

There are many things I've left unsaid about Terry Benedict's film--how did I get this far without mentioning Doss's famous double bowline knot or his commitment to reading his Bible? But I can't finish without encouraging you to see the film for yourself.