My dad was a medic in the S Pacific. Had an assignment to pull soldiers out of crashed planes. He never spoke about it, and never flew again after he returned. RIP Dad!
An after thought. Dad signed for my loan in 72 on my HO Yenko. His name is on the title and registration I saved all of these years.

My Dad never flew again also and never talked about it. Always wondered what he'd of been like if he didn't have to go through World War 2.

Dad was at Pearl that fateful day on the West Virginia. He didn't say too much about it, other than he spent about 18 hours on a fire tug fighting fires and pulling corpses out of the water. He was 18 years old then. I think alot lately about how our lives at 18 were so different.