Danny, forgot to mention that after the war, when the Navy downsized, my dad transferred over to the Army Air Corps, later U.S. Air Force, flew in B-36s and B-50s. He stayed in the Air Force until he retired in 1969, serving both in Korea and Vietnam (very early in the war, 1963-1964).

Growing up as a military brat, I was surrounded by heroes, but to my eternal regret I paid no attention to that fact at the time. The father of my best friend in junior high school was shot down over Germany, was captured, escaped from a luftstalag and made it to France, was recaptured and beaten nearly to death. Just another day at the office for a B-17 man. Also in junior high, a few doors down lived a Medal of Honor recipient, but no one ever bragged about it, or even more than casually mentioned it. A civilian kid would have been duly impressed by all the war stories I grew up with, but to we military kids, it was just part of the landscape we lived in. Heroism and sacrifice were simply what was expected of a man, no big deal. And we were expected to follow suit when we came of age.