When I was a little kid I asked my grandfather one time what it was like to “fight evil”. His response was something along the lines of “I didn’t fight evil. They were just a bunch of scared kids doing what they were told. Just like me.”

My grandfather fought in Europe, but Japan was still what kicked off WWII. So, I was super nervous about bringing home the woman that would become my first wife for the first time. Her family was from Okinawa.

When we got there he sat down at the kitchen table and talked to her for a long time. I was in and out doing stuff for the dinner, but they looked happy enough. Later that day he caught me outside and gave me a hug. He told me that she was a good woman and I’d be crazy if I didn’t marry her.

I really miss my grandfather. He was mostly a good dude.

Here’s a picture of him during the battle of the bulge. It’s from a book I have, but this picture was originally published in “Yank” magazine. The original clipping sat over his chair in the living room my entire life.