A couple of things on Stan:
He was not drafted until after the 1944 season. When drafted, he went. Was he a hero like Bob Feller, Ted Williams or Jimmy Stewart? No. Was he a draft dodger? No.
If you think Williams was a better hitter, fine. I won't argue. In fact, I agree that Williams was probably the best pure hitter of all time. But does Stan belong in the conversation? Yes. And if you remove 15% of his hits - he still had 3085!! He hit 475 HRs without juicing or cheating. Maybe he's the 8th or 10th best hitter of all time instead of the best. But he's not Barry Bonds, Mark McGwire or Rafael Palmeiro. No asterisk belongs next to Stan's numbers. He may not be the best hitter of all time, but I've read three ways to pitch Stan: 1) throw four wide ones and pick him off first; 2) be sure to back up third base after you throw your pitch; 3) throw the ball under home plate.
3630 hits, 475 HRs, and 1931 RBIs are among the least of Stan's accomplishments. He never got in trouble; he never even got thrown out of a game. Stan was married to the same woman for 70 years. He would sign autographs after a game as long as people wanted them. Stan never got mad at somebody who came up to him out of the blue and wanted an autograph. Stan was in a restaurant once and noticed a man with his family; that man's family was celebrating their young daughter's birthday. The father obviously recognized Stan but was embarrassed to approach him and did not want to bother Stan. So what did Stan do? He had the restaurant bring that man's daughter a cupcake with a birthday candle, went to their table and played Happy Birthday for her on the harmonica he always carried with him!
In the 1958 All Star game, there were seven African American players on the NL team. One was named Willie Mays. It was eleven years after Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier, but the black players found themselves in the back of the locker room playing poker with each other. Willie Mays described how none of the white players said "hi", or "welcome to the All Star game," or anything at all. Stan came back, greeted everyone, sat down, and played poker with them. And Stan didn't even know how to play poker.
I only saw Stan play at an old timer's game once in the 1970s. This is probably the worst Stan Musial story you will hear, but it's all I have. He batted twice. He was out the first time; when he walked to the plate the second time, he had this look on his face and carried himself like there were two outs in the ninth in a World Series game. Stan didn't whine or cry after an out, but he wanted a hit like his life depended on it. He lined out to right. The RF knew just where to play Stan I guess. But just once, I saw those lightning quick hands whip around and heard the crack of the bat.
If you read Joe Posnanski's article from a year or two ago about Stan, you will understand why he is "The Man."