[This is a re-post, with a bit of new info at the end.]
I've known this man and seen him at family reunions for the last 28 years. I never knew more than the fact that he served during WWII.
The Jolly Roger remembers that his uncle would use that scrawny arm and hand to grab the sides of his knee and squeeze until the JR hollered "uncle!" Little did he realize that his brave uncle was showing off the strength of an arm that had been blown to bits...on Normandy Beach. At that link is a great, and human story like so many others of his generation.
Update: In the last year since this was posted, the J.R. has discovered that his family members are bona fide Sons of the Confederacy and Sons of the American Revolution, a fact that he has found some pride in, now that he's no longer a long-haired, FM-type, dope-smokin', car-racing, redneck-hippie [yes, I have been a wonderful influence on him, thank you veddy much!].
It's not so much having a certificate of membership into a club. It's having a vital legacy of diligence, honor, duty, sacrifice.
God Bless our veterans on this, and every day.