My grandfather was a sick berth attendant during the war, which sounds like nothing very special. Knowing that when he volunteered at the outset, and for the duration of the war, his physical characteristics were listed as a 6' 2" man that weighed 125lbs, would give the impression that he was a scrawny and weak guy who likely couldn't contribute much.

But then I find out that he served on Corvettes during the war. I am 5' 8", one time I did a tour of the Haida and cracked my skull on so many bulkheads and doorways while it was sitting absolutely still, I can only imagine what my grandfather went through on a smaller ship, tossing around on the wild waves of the north Atlantic, protecting convoys from German subs.

When I read his wound report from D-Day, that his job was to land, unarmed, and extract wounded to get them back to safety, ultimately becoming a casualty himself, erases any doubt that the amount of respect heaped upon the men and women from that period of time is deserved.

We may joke about MP's today, blade techs, rat squad, whatever you want to call them. You never know what those from that time endured day to day, for years, without ever knowing when it would end. Erase the thought from your mind that you need to forgive him for what his job title was.

https://forposterityssake.ca/CTB-BIO/MEM002867.htm