Other than me, family vets include my mom's cousin who was killed as a tank crew member in Patton's tank corps; my Uncle Dick who was a landing craft officer at the first amphibious attack in WWII at Tarawa; my dad was a minesweeper skipper in the Philippines; and my Uncle Roger, an engineer, was in what he jokingly called the chair-borne forces. Not my family, but a grade school buddy's dad, a motorcycle guy, joined the Royal Canadian Air Force before the U.S. was in WWII, and flew missions over Europe for Canada and then the U.S. for the duration. He was the most preternaturally calm person I have ever seen, and so far as I know, never rode a motorcycle nor flew a plane again.