My grandfather somehow managed to enlist (he was born in 1901), and given that he had five children under 10, was already in his late 30s (Canada having entered the war long before the US), they just sent him to Victoria. No overseas service for him! I'm not entirely sure why he bothered enlisting, though my mother claims it's because he thought it would get him back to Scotland.

My step-grandfather on the other side (who was in Scotland, as that's where he started out) was in Europe, and the shrapnel in his knee ultimately led to his death (surgery + painkillers = bleeding ulcer). All he ever talked about was shit he got up to on leave, however. (Which was a lot, as he was very young--turned 18 in 1942 [Gram kind of cradle robbed with him]--and filled with wild oats.)

I had no real relationship with any of the other vets in the family, as my bio grandfathers all fell into age ranges where they missed the war windows--too young in some cases for WWI, barely, too old for WWII.

Jesse, how is it we are old enough for 20 year college reunions?

I know, right? It's ridiculous.

I so wish I'd known to ask for stories. Daddy was 21 in 1940 and good-looking young man. Such a man in uniform in New York is a Broadway musical waiting to happen. But he died when I was in college and still getting my head around the potential of history.

Last year was my 30th college reunion. I've never been to a reunion.

My high school 10-year reunion was this past summer, and I was conveniently out of the continent. I can't even imagine going to one.

I have very much enjoyed all of the reunions I've been to! It's fun (IME) to see how people grow up.

I went to my 10y high school reunion, missed my 20th, and never heard anything about the 30th, which is sad because I really did want to catch up on people.

I never knew my maternal grandfather, he died less than a year before I was born. I never got to hear the stories. But after my mom died and I was going through her things, I found a fantastic letter that my grandmother had written her on VE day (I think). My mom was born in 1940. Anyway, the letter was all about the loud noises, people honking and that this was her lullaby that night, but it meant that Dad would be coming home soon. I need to refind that latter.

I also found a BUNCH of his military paperwork. I haven't gone through it yet, was so overwhelmed dealing with mom that I just kinda cataloged what I found without really lookin at every bit.

I've got my 25th (college) next May and I think I might go? I haven't been to one since the 5th, mostly because the years that end in 0 or 5 have been traumatic one way or another but a little bit because I always dread the "so what have you been up to since graduation?" conversations

I've never gone to any High School reunions, I don't even know if they've been happening.

My Dad was too young for WWII, though he and a friend hitchhiked from Oregon to Arizona to try to enlist at 16 years old.

But my Uncle Noel served in the Pacific on a battleship. My favorite story from him is that their ship was heavily damaged in battle so they limped back to Long Beach to get patched up. The Captain of the the ship was so eager to get back to the war because he was bucking for a field promotion, that he took the ship out of harbor when it was sea-worthy but not battle-worthy. The crew got wind of this, and knew they'd get blown to bits in action, and almost half the crew went AWOL including my Uncle.

Because he was in uniform with a military ID during WWII he just drifted around from base to base eating at the commissary etc. A friend of his recognized him, pulled him aside and said, "Hey, the Brass knows that guy was nuts. Your ship went down with all hands. So just turn yourself in - they'll give you a slap on the wrist."

So my Uncle turned himself in, served six months in the brig and while he was there he learned how to be a Radio Operator which is how he advanced his career. He spent 25 years in the Navy mostly serving on submarines.

My Grandfather, who was in his mid-forties during WWII was drafted late in the war to serve in the SeeBees because he was an auto mechanic. He served about 9 months in the Pacific.

One of my Uncles on my mom's side died in WWII. Not in battle, he fell off the back of a truck and whacked his head. Apparently the mortality rate just for mobilizing an army is higher than you'd expect.