Next month there will debut a film entitled “The Tillman Story.” It will depict the life and death of the greatest hero I have known in my time, an Army Ranger named Pat Tillman, yet I will refuse to watch it. It is about a cause I refuse to accept, one that I deeply feel is something other than what I am.

The movie touts itself with the subheading, “The nation needed a hero. His family needed the truth.” Let me tell you, up front, that I am intrinsically tied to the movie and Lord knows I don’t want to be. But on the night the man died who shunned a career in the National Football League to become a foot soldier in our nation’s Army, a close friend of mine was on the next hill.

Since Corporal Tillman was killed in 2002, several books have been written about his death in Afghanistan. One was written by the great writer, Jon Krakhauer, who pointed out Tillman was killed by friendly fire. Another was written by Tillman’s grieving mother, who is most-understandably bitter about the way the government put an untrue public-relations spin on the death of her son.

Krakhauer’s book was filled with his own political beliefs, which is okay with me based on what he has found that fortifies his soul, and his mother’s description can contain anything the woman says as far as I am concerned because my son, on that fateful night, came back home and is to be married in the fall.

Pat was killed on April 22, 2004. In a night of horror and in a place near the village of Sperah about 25 miles southwest of Khost, near the Pakistan border, there were no strobe lights. No, it was as black as a night as any you have ever known and, according to my eye witness, when a bullet passes so close to your ear you actually hear it break the sound barrier, it snaps rather forcefully.

Pat Tillman had shunned a $3.5 million contract with the Arizona Cardinals to be there. No matter what some film director named Amir Bar-Levi may portray in his August 20th opening, let’s first remember that Pat and his brother Kevin, who gave up a promising career in baseball, had made the choice of joining the Army after the 9/11 tragedy because it was what they wanted to do.

Let us further remember that Pat, attached to the Ranger’s Second Battalion, had seen war “up close” before the night that he was killed and that he was most aware that when the bullets begin, you have no idea where they are coming from or whose finger is shooting towards the resulting sounds. “Friendly fire” doesn’t wash with me. Then again, neither does war.

Not long ago a man was found guilty for leaving a possibly-devastating bomb inside a SUV in crowded Times Square. You may have read where he immediately claimed himself guilty of terrorism. When the judge asked f he worried that he might injure young children, mere innocents, he boldly proclaimed, “Your drones (missiles) do not see ours, either.”

Pat Tillman, for my money, was in the fight against terror. He gave his life in an effort to eradicate it. So while there are those like movie director Amir Bar-Levi who would make money with his film, let me be so bold as to suggest he would diminish this warrior, tarnish his posthumous Silver Star, with the premise the government’s handling of Pat Tillman’s death would detract from his primary mission – to protect us.

I am told the most gripping moment in the film is portrayed in the moment when another of Pat’s brothers, Richard, wearing blue jeans, a tee-shirt, and with a beer in his hand, takes the stage at Pat’s memorial service and shouts, “Pat isn’t with God. He’s (expletive) dead. He wasn’t religious. So thank you for your thoughts, but he’s (expletive) dead.”

I, for one, don’t need to see that. Again, my son came back but, instead, he told me that at the memorial service held for Pat Tillman in the Ranger cap the day after he was killed, the commander assembled all the Rangers and told them he could whirl three times, throw a rock, and hit a hero as big as Pat Tillman. And the guy who told me that story said it was the most magnificent moment he’s ever known.

Nobody but Rangers were there, no pretenders or phonys. Each man knew what Pat Tillman did for his country. They also knew he died for it. I dare say movie director Amir Br-Levi does not.

Do not go watch “The Tillman Story.” I will never watch it but, for the life of me, I can tell you it is false. My belief is based on 200 years of valor, of reading and believing repeated tales of those who have blessed me with freedoms I cherish. I believe “The Tillman Story” is not about the real truth.

That only comes when you twirl three times and throw a rock.

Because I believe as I do, Pat Tillman will always be my hero. And I will be forever grateful.