This photographer was an absolute bad ass maniac. He played an integral part in the formation of Magnum Photos, he captured images from some of the most historically significant moments of World War Two including D-Day at Omaha Beach, The Battle of the Bulge, and The Liberation of Paris, he had notable interactions with Pablo Picasso, Ernest Hemingway, and Henri Cartier-Bresson, and in 1938, he became known as The Greatest War-Photographer in the World through a 26 photograph spread of his images that were made during the Spanish Civil War.

He made a monumental impact on the world of photography in his 40 years on this earth and will continue to impact street, documentary, and war photographers forever if not exclusively through his work then at the very least through the quote he is so well known for and words that he lived by to the point that they resulted in the end of his life while working in the field of conflict photography – “if your photographs aren’t good enough, you’re not close enough.”

Death in the Making was a book that involved Robert Capa, Gerda Taro, David “Chim” Seymour, Andre Kertesz, and journalist Jay Allen. The book was a tribute to the anti-fascists fighting Franco’s forces and was propaganda meant to raise awareness for their cause. It covered enthusiasm at the start of the war, life in Madrid, air raids, and the wounded and dead. It also contained one of Capa’s most renowned photos, The Falling Soldier. The image was celebrated as one of the greatest war photographs ever made because it captured the moment of death in a way not seen before. Controversy over whether it was staged only fueled its notoriety.

Capa was part of two groups displaced in the 1930s: creatives seeking freedom and Jews fleeing persecution. Born in Budapest, he left at 20, influenced by Brassai and Kertesz, and moved to Paris in 1933. Initially he wanted to be a journalist but lacked the writing skill, so he turned to photography. One of his first jobs was photographing Leon Trotsky in Copenhagen, which opened doors to political arenas. These steps launched a short but legendary 20-year career.

Between 1936 and 1939, Capa photographed France: Bastille Day gatherings, Franco-Russian rallies, strikes, peace marches, Marseille street scenes, and the Tour de France. These assignments sharpened his eye for reportage and prepared him for what came next.

World War II defined his reputation. Magnum’s Stories credits him with creating Magnum’s tradition of photographic storytelling. He risked his life, built relationships at the front, and pursued images with courage. Yet he admitted to myth-making: “Writing the truth being obviously so difficult, I have in the interests of it allowed myself to go sometimes slightly beyond and slightly this side of it.” His blend of risk, storytelling, and presence shaped Magnum’s ethos.

The first major event was D-Day in 1944. “I am a gambler. I decided to go in with Company E in the first wave,” he recalled. His descriptions of ducking in the barge, wading waist-deep between obstacles and bodies, and snapping pictures with trembling hands give visceral context to the Magnificent Eleven photos that survived after most of his film was ruined in processing.He then covered the Battle of the Bulge, the largest and bloodiest battle fought by U.S. troops in Europe.

“The Germans were tough in their well-prepared fortress, but not so tough that they fought to the last German – only to the first American that got close enough to be dangerous. Then they threw up their hands, shouted ‘Kamerad!’ and asked for cigarettes.” Capa was also present for the Liberation of Paris in August 1944 alongside Henri Cartier-Bresson and George Rodger.

“The road to Paris was open, and every Parisian was out in the street to touch the first tank, to kiss the first man, to sing and cry. Never were there so many who were so happy so early in the morning,” he wrote. For him, it was a homecoming: “I was returning to Paris — the beautiful city where I first learned to eat, to drink, to love…”

In 1947 he joined John Steinbeck to create A Russian Journal. They traveled Moscow, Kiev, Stalingrad, and Georgia with the intent of “honest reporting.” Steinbeck praised him: “He could photograph motion and gaiety and heartbreak. He could photograph thought… note how he captures the endlessness of the Russian landscape and one single human.” Capa admitted frustration with the lack of spectacle compared to war: “My four cameras, used to wars and revolutions, are disgusted, and every time I click them something goes wrong.”

From 1948 to 1950 he photographed Israel’s conflicts around its declaration of independence. Accounts of these images vary depending on political leanings, but their importance is undeniable, particularly given his own Jewish background.

In 1954, Capa traveled to Japan for a Magnum exhibition. LIFE sent him on to Vietnam. Walking up a road to photograph combat, he stepped on a landmine and died at 41. His brother later said, “He died on a not-important road, in a not-important action. It had to be fate for him to do that.” What is certain is that he died doing what defined his life — with a camera in hand, in the midst of conflict.