As the COVID-19 continues to grab most headlines
these days, it’s a safe bet we’re going to see a glut of deadly virus-themed flicks
in the near future. But for cinema fans looking for something
other than this horrible real-life nightmare, TopTenz presents more true tales that deserve
the red carpet treatment. 10. Escape From Papago FADE IN: EXT. ARIZONA DESERT — NIGHT Under cover of darkness, a group of men trudge
their way through a vast desert covered in cactus and tumbleweeds. But these aren’t lost campers or overgrown
Boy Scouts in search of merit badges. Suddenly, a TALL MAN, 40s, with a commanding
presence, brings the march to a halt. We now hear German spoken in a faint but deadly
serious whisper. As ordered, the obedient charges form into
smaller teams and quickly disappear across the untamed expanse of the American Southwest…. The opening scene above describes an event
that occurred on Christmas Eve in 1944. Twenty-five German POWs, including battle-hardened
U-boat commanders, escaped from Camp Papago, a barbed-wire facility located just outside
of Phoenix during WWII. The men spent months digging an elaborate
tunnel as well as manufacturing clothes and identification papers. A few of the ex-sailors even built a collapsible
boat to use in case they reached a waterway to the ocean. Fear of sabotage and malice soon gripped federal
and local authorities, triggering the largest manhunt in state history that included the
FBI, bounty hunters, cowboys, and Native American scouts. The escaped prisoners would also encounter
an unexpected deadly threat not found on most battlefields: rattlesnakes. Most of the men would either be caught or
surrender within days — except for one notable exception: decorated Nazi war hero, Kapitan
Jürgen Wattenberg. As the senior officer of the camp and former
commander of U-162, Wattenburg managed to stay on the lam for 35 days before finally
being nabbed by a city cop. Epilogue: Several of the POWs would return
to the scene of the crime years later for a reunion, including Wattenberg. Not surprisingly, the stoic officer never
revealed his ambitious plans while on the run for over a month. 9. No Limits The story of Alice Coachman is a shining example
of how sports can transcend both race and gender and inspire an entire generation. As one of ten children growing up during the
Depression in the segregated south, Coachman had limited access to training facilities
and athletic coaching. In short, the odds of her becoming an Olympic
champion and role model to millions were slim at best. She improvised, however, by running barefoot
on dirt roads and using old wooden fences to practice high jumping. Coachman dominated the competition in high
school as a sprinter and jumper, setting a national record in the high jump while still
shoeless. In 1939, she accepted a scholarship to the
Tuskegee Institute in Alabama, where she continued to excel as one of the nation’s premier
female athletes in both track and basketball. Due to WWII, the Olympic Games were canceled
in both 1940 and 1944. The missed opportunities robbed Coachman of
likely medals during her prime that included an unprecedented ten consecutive national
high jump championships. Her first international competition finally
came during the 1948 Olympic Games in London. Competing in front of a capacity crowd at
Wembley Stadium, she set an Olympic record to win gold in the high jump. She also became the first African American
woman from any country to earn an Olympic title. After returning home, she retired from athletic
competition to raise a family and begin her long career as a school teacher. Coca Cola also selected her as a spokesperson,
making her the first African American athlete to secure an endorsement. She later founded the Alice Coachman Track
and Field Foundation to support young athletes before passing away in 2014 at the age of
90. 8. A Band Called Love In 1967, the house band at the infamous Whiskey-a-Go-Go
nightclub in LA released their debut album, containing the hit song, “Light My Fire.” The psychedelic troubadours, better known
as The Doors, would eventually achieve rock ‘n’ roll immortality — mainly due to
the wild antics of their charismatic frontman, Jim Morrison. That same year, another rock band from LA
released their third studio album. The group, Love, infused a unique mix of styles,
including folk-rock, blues, jazz, and even mariachi — but never reached anywhere near
the commercial success as their contemporaries. However, years later, “Forever Changes”
would be heralded as a highly influential masterpiece — and land at #40 in Rolling
Stones’ Greatest Albums of All Time — two spots ahead of The Doors. Sex, drugs, and rock n roll defined the 1960s
in L.A. These same elements also destroyed one of
the greatest bands from the era. The band’s African-American lead singer,
Arthur Lee, had all the makings for superstardom — looks, attitude, and creative talent both
as a singer and songwriter. However, Love would experience their fair
share of the ups and downs associated with trying to make a living as a musician. To paraphrase Hunter S. Thompson, “The music
business is a cruel and shallow money trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps
run free, and good men die like dogs. There’s also a negative side.” The band saw countless lineup changes, and
Lee battled drug addiction as well as doing time in prison. After slaying his demons, he managed to stay
active with other bands and solo projects. Before he died of cancer in 2006, he provided
candid insight into the making of Love’s seminal third album. “When I did that album,” Lee said, “I
thought I was going to die at that particular time, so those were my last words.” 7. Never Say Die Hollywood loves zombies. Here’s another story about a girl who came
back from the dead — but the best part is that it really happened. Chicago-born Elizabeth “Betty” Robinson
could seriously scoot. She first gained the attention of a local
high school coach while running after a train (that she caught) and would go on to make
the 1928 US Olympic Team as a sprinter. At the Games in Amsterdam, the 16-year-old
Robinson won the inaugural gold medal in the women’s 100 meters and then picked up a
silver in the 4×100 meter relay. The teen phenom would later set world records
at 50, 60, 70, and 100 yards and earned the title, “World’s Fastest Woman.” But while still only a teenager, a horrific
plane crash changed everything. The second act of most screenplays is where
high drama typically occurs in which the protagonist (in this case, “Betty”) encounters seemingly
insurmountable obstacles. Another standard blueprint suggests: Act One
— Get Character Up a Tree. Act Two — Throw Rocks At Him or Her. Act Three — Get Character Down. In Never Say Die, this is where lots of rocks
get tossed around. After being pulled from the wreckage, Robinson’s
limp body was put in the trunk of a car and taken to an undertaker. She would remain in critical condition for
weeks while slipping in and out of a coma. The Olympian then underwent several surgeries,
requiring silver pins inserted into her thigh. As a result, one leg would remain half an
inch shorter than the other for the rest of her life. As she continued her long, painful recovery,
doctors feared she would ever walk again — let alone compete on a world stage. Obviously, these quacks underestimated the
heavy mettle determination of Betty Robinson. She eventually returned to the track while
enrolled at Northwestern University, where she once again started winning races. In 1936, she made her second US Olympic team
and competed in Berlin. Although her injury prevented kneeling in
a normal start position, she won her second gold medal in the women’s 4×100 meter relay. 6. Harlem’s Hellfighter On paper, Henry Johnson didn’t appear all
that intimidating. His 5-foot-4, 130 pound physique would have
barely qualified him as a lightweight boxer. On the battlefield, however, Johnson proved
he could punch far above his weight, becoming the first American soldier to earn the Croix
de Guerre (France’s highest military honor) during WWI. Nearly a century later, Johnson’s own country
would award him a posthumous Medal of Honor. As a young black man with no education, Johnson
took whatever jobs he could find, working as a chauffeur, laborer, and railway porter. He later enlisted in the US Army and eventually
landed in France with the 369th Infantry Regiment. The unit, consisting mostly of African Americans,
became one of the earliest arrivals as part of the American Expeditionary Force (AEF). Not unlike conditions at home, Johnson encountered
systemic racism in military life. Most non-white U.S. troops in France, including
the 369th, performed menial labor such as unloading ships and digging latrines. The men, however, would soon become the first
African Americans to see combat after being reassigned to the depleted (and more inclusive)
French Fourth Army, who dubbed them the “Harlem Hellfighters.” On the night of May 14, 1918, near the Argonne
Forest, Johnson and fellow private Needham Roberts stood sentry duty when German snipers
began firing at them. Johnson countered by lobbing grenades, but
the fast-approaching enemy soon surrounded the two Americans and severely wounded the
17-year-old Roberts. After exhausting his ammunition, Johnson continued
to fight, using the butt of his rifle, a bolo knife, and finally his fists. He eventually killed four enemy soldiers and
wounded more than a dozen others before reinforcements arrived. More importantly, Johnson prevented the Germans
from breaking the French line despite suffering 21 wounds during the furious one-hour battle. For his actions, he earned the moniker “Black
Death.” When the Hellfighters arrived home in February
1919, they weren’t allowed to join the official victory parade in New York City with the other
returning US troops. However, a separate parade was held in their
honor as thousands of spectators lined the route to watch Johnson lead nearly 3,000 soldiers
in an open car towards Harlem. The government also used his image on Victory
War stamps (“Henry Johnson licked a dozen Germans. How many stamps have you licked?”) along
with an assortment of army recruiting materials. Unfortunately, there would be no Hollywood
ending. At least not while he was alive, anyway. Johnson’s discharge papers failed to mention
any of his combat-inflicted injuries, leaving him with no disability pay after the war. He gradually drifted into alcoholism and died
penniless in 1929 at the age of 32. But then in 2015, President Obama issued the
long-overdue decoration, commemorating Johnson’s conspicuous gallantry. 5. Pink Lady Studios should have no trouble casting an
A-list leading lady to portray the real-life spy and super sleuth, Kate Warne. Warne’s remarkable story began in 1856 in
Chicago, where she walked off the street and into the office of the Pinkerton National
Detective Agency. After introducing herself to head honcho,
Alan Pinkerton, she then convinced him to hire her — not as a secretary — but as
the world’s first female detective. Pinkerton later recalled the initial encounter
in his memoirs, in which she told him: “Women could be most useful in worming out secrets
in many places which would be impossible for a male detective.” And over the next 12 years, that’s exactly
what she did while working as an undercover agent under multiple aliases and disguises. She would also spearhead an all-female division
within the agency that came to be known as “The Pinks.” Warne took on the most important case of her
career in 1861, involving none other than President-elect Abraham Lincoln. As the country teetered on the brink of hostilities,
Maryland had become a hotbed of secessionist activity that also included an early assassination
plot. Warne helped smuggle the beloved 16th U.S.
president back to Washington, D.C. to attend the inauguration into office. Additionally, Warne worked tirelessly throughout
the Civil War as a spy. She managed to infiltrate high-level Confederate
circles and later ran the Union Intelligence Service, a forerunner of the Secret Service. Not surprisingly, Warne inspired the Pinkerton
Detective Agency motto, “We Never Sleep.” 4. Uncommon Valor Billy Fiske lived for excitement — and experienced
plenty of it during his brief but blazing 29 years. He became the youngest Winter Olympic gold
medalist as a 16-year-old while competing in the bobsled at the 1928 Games in St. Moritz. Four years later, Fiske led Team USA to another
victory in Lake Placid while serving as his country’s flag bearer. He also raced cars and enjoyed a long reign
as the toboggan king of Switzerland’s infamous Cresta Run. But among all of his adrenaline-fuelled exploits,
Fiske is best known for his courage and sacrifice as the first American pilot killed in combat
during WWII. Born into a wealthy family claiming roots
dating back to early Colonial America, Fiske attended private schools in Europe, where
he developed an affinity for alpine sports. He was expected to win a third Olympic gold
medal — but chose not to compete at the 1936 Games in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, Germany. He never publicly gave his reasons, but a
Jewish friend and fellow Olympian, Irving Jaffee, insisted Fiske objected to the antisemitism
of Hitler’s Nazi regime. As Germany’s war drums grew louder, Fiske
learned to fly, earning an Aviator’s Certificate with the Royal Aero Club of Great Britain. He then circumvented America’s neutrality
during the early stages of the war by using forged Canadian papers to gain acceptance
into the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve. He soon put his natural hand-eye coordination
skills to use in the cockpit of a Hawker Hurricane during the Battle of Britain. In August of 1940, Fiske accompanied his squadron
in a series of fierce dog fights in southern England, resulting in the downing of eight
Luftwaffe Junkers. But as the American chased an enemy dive-bomber
out to sea, a German tail gunner punctured the Hurricane’s reserve fuel tank that caused
a fire to erupt in the Hurricane’s cockpit. Driven by stubbornness and a champion’s
ego, he refused to bail out and managed to glide the warbird back home with a dead stick
landing. Fiske suffered severe burns to his hands and
ankles and had to be carefully extracted from the plane by the ground crew. Shortly after, his fuel tank exploded. He received treatment at nearby Royal West
Sussex Hospital in Chichester but soon died from surgical shock. A well-attended funeral service took place
a few days later at St Mary and St Blaise Church in the town of Boxgrove. The inscription on his gravestone simply reads:
He died for England. 3. Pain Train The Gurkhas, an elite Nepalese unit world-renowned
for their courage and discipline, have produced some of the fiercest warriors ever to set
foot on a battlefield. Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw famously once
said: “If a man says he is not afraid of dying, he is either lying or a Gurkha.” Each warrior also carries a traditional weapon
into battle called the kukri. The iconic 18-inch knife features a distinct
curved blade with a handle made from wood, bone, or the horn of a water buffalo. According to apocryphal legend, once a kukri
is drawn in battle, it must taste blood before returning to its sheath. On the night of September 2, 2010, a gang
of armed bandits posing as passengers stopped a crowded train in northeast India. The attackers, possibly as many as 40 men,
began going down the aisles, looting and terrorizing the travelers. But unbeknownst to the robbers, a 35-year-old
retired Gurkha named Bishnu Shrestha just happened to be on board taking a leisurely
nap when duty called. As he calmly assessed the mayhem unfolding
all around, the men grabbed a girl sitting next to him and intended to rape her. That’s when the Shrestha sprang into action
and pulled out his kukri blade. He quickly killed three of the robbers and
injured eight others, causing the remaining men to take off running. During the melee, the Gurkha suffered a deep
gash to his hand but still managed to thwart the ambush successfully. Following the ordeal, the Indian government
presented him with three gallantry awards. “Fighting the enemy in battle is my duty
as a soldier. Taking on the thugs on the train was my duty
as a human being,” said Shrestha. 2. Me, Tarzan For movie fans in the 1930s and ’40s, Tarzan
represented the ultimate hero. Without having to rely on any phony, comic
book superpowers, he embodied natural athleticism and fearless confidence, living by his own
rules while swinging from vine to vine. Animals worshipped him. Men feared him. Women wanted to be with him. Although many actors would play the role over
the years, only one man rightfully deserves to be called “Lord of the Jungle.” Johnny Weissmuller was born on June 2, 1904,
in the village of Freidorf of the Austro-Hungarian Empire (now a district of Timisoara, Romania). The Weissmuller family later emigrated to
America and settled in Chicago, where young Johnny developed his swimming prowess by working
as a lifeguard on the beaches of Lake Michigan. After school, he worked as a bellhop and elevator
operator at the Plaza Hotel and trained with the swim team at the Illinois Athletic Club. Weissmuller would eventually become the most
dominant swimmer throughout the 1920s, smashing several national and world records and winning
five Olympic gold medals. It’s worth noting he went undefeated during
this period in all competitions, never losing a single race. Ever. Top that, Michael Phelps. At 6-foot-3, muscular and good-looking, Weissmuller
inevitably found his way to Hollywood. He soon caught the attention of MGM’s sleazeball
head honcho, Louis B. Mayer, who wanted to change Weissmuller’s name to something “less
ethnic.” But after the mogul learned the newcomer was
a famous athlete and the studio could benefit from the Olympian’s name recognition, Weissmuller
was offered a seven picture deal and immediately cast in the title role of Tarzan the Ape Man
in 1932. He later appeared in various other incarnations
of the same jungle character in both film and TV. Despite being typecast and given threadbare
scripts, the former Olympian enjoyed a lengthy career spanning five decades in Hollywood. Off-screen, however, is where the tale takes
a dark turn. He endured several stormy relationships that
included marriage to his second wife, Mexican actress and screen idol, Lupe Valez. For the purpose of this story ever getting
green-lit, the high-octane drama fits in nicely because without it, there’s no second act
(see #5). In 1958, a genuinely remarkable stranger-than-fiction
incident occurred that could have only happened to Johnny Weissmuller. While playing golf in Cuba during the Cuban
Revolution, he found himself surrounded by a group of angry, rebel soldiers. Unable to speak Spanish and properly identify
himself, Weissmuller got out of his golf cart and launched into his trademark Tarzan call. The guerrillas then recognized the world-famous
movie star, proclaiming ‘”Es Tarzan! Es Tarzan de la Selva!” and happily escorted
him to his hotel. Weissmuller passed away on January 20, 1984,
in Acapulco, Mexico, from pulmonary edema following a series of strokes. Per his final request, a recording of his
signature roar played at the funeral as his coffin was lowered into the ground. 1. Duel in Rome The title of the “world’s greatest athlete”
is typically reserved for the winner of the Olympic decathlon, a grueling, 10-event contest
over two days requiring speed, strength, and stamina. The competition at the 1960 Games in Rome
featured a pair of UCLA teammates and close friends, Rafer Johnson and CK Yang. Their contrasting styles and backgrounds,
as well as overcoming political pressure and racial prejudice, provided plenty of drama
as the two men battled down to the wire in the most thrilling decathlon in Olympic history. Johnson’s natural talents might have just
as easily led him to a successful career in the NFL or NBA. As a multi-sport star in high school, the
only dilemma facing the African-American stand out would be which sport best showcased his
athletic abilities. Under the guidance of legendary UCLA track
coach, Elvin C. “Ducky” Drake, Johnson firmly set his sights on becoming the best
decathlete in the world. A few years later, he would also benefit from
the arrival of Yang Chuan-kwang (“CK” to his friends), a world-class Taiwanese athlete,
as the two decathletes pushed each other daily as training partners as members of the powerhouse
Bruin team. Yang and Johnson stood as the top challengers
for the decathlon gold medal at the Games of the XVII Olympiad. Nonetheless, both men almost missed the chance
to compete at all. A serious car accident had caused Johnson
to sit out the entire 1959 season. Additionally, as an outspoken activist in
the Civil Rights Movement, he faced pressure by other Black leaders to consider boycotting
the Games. Meanwhile, Yang would become embroiled in
a Cold War battle between Mao Zedong’s communist regime in China and the anti-communist, island
nation of Taiwan. And so with multiple storylines on display,
the decathlon began on September 5, 1960, in Rome. The speedy Yang, as expected, jumped out to
an early lead with victories in the 100 meters and long jump. Johnson then re-took the lead after a substantial
winning heave in the shot put. This set the tone for the next two days as
the friendly rivals maintained their spirited dual heading into the final event: the 1500
meters. Based on scoring tables that award points
for each of the ten events, Yang had to defeat Johnson by 10 seconds to win. With Drake coaching both men from the stands,
darkness shrouded the Stadio Olympico as the competitors approached the starting line. Yang jumped out to an early lead in hopes
of wearing down his heavier teammate. But in the end, Johnson ran a lifetime best
and finished a mere 1.2 seconds behind Yang en route to a new Olympic record. Afterward, the exhausted men embraced, holding
each other up in a moment that would forever capture the spirit of Olympic sportsmanship.
