My Dad used to quote that number as well. Sadly, he became part of that statistic a few years ago.
My dad and 4 uncles are also part of that statistic. All I know of that time is my dad was in the Navy. After 4 years in the navy he went to college and after graduation was commissioned in the Army Reserve. After not getting active duty he transferred to the newly formed Air Force....and got reserves. He stayed in the AF reserve for around 35 years, retiring as a LTC. (non pilot)
Another uncle was in the 3rd division and went into Italy. His military records were destroyed by a fire in I think 1968. All we know is he was a 1st Sgt and his oldest son stole all of his war trophies and sold them for drugs in the late 60s.
Another uncle taught a ground school for pilots on how to use radar in night fighters. I think he was stationed at St. Simmons Island, GA.
The other uncle was a train engineer and was not allowed to quit his job because at the time it was thought women would not be able to drive a train. When he was finally allowed to join (early '45) it was in the reserves, and his job was.....wait for it..... train engineer. He retired as a LTC, same as my dad. They had a little brotherly conflict over who out ranked who...
The 4th uncle was in the marines before the war started. He claimed to be the first Marine to kill a Japanese soldier in 1939. He was with a construction crew from the Navy, (before they were called Sea Bees) that was building airstrips in the south Pacific, acting as a guard. He got bored and asked for something to do besides sitting and watching. So the survey crew had him running the orange tape marking places where they wanted them for an airstrip.
He was about 200 yards away from the main group, marking a spot. As he brought his hand up to cut the tape with his machete, he heard a bullet go by his left ear, burning his ear. He came down with the machete, almost cutting off the tip of his left index finger. He dropped and rolled away from the area. He made a big circle and came back to where he had been and saw a Jap soldier standing there looking at the blood. As my uncle stated, he dropped him, then picked up the machete and tape and went back to work.
He got out of the Marines in the summer of '41. In January '42, the Marines sent him notice to report back for duty, Instead, he went to the Army and enlisted thinking it would easier than the Marines. He ended up going into France as a replacement on D-Day+3 I think. He was the one that smoke and drank all his life. He lived the longest of the brothers, dying at 83 due to blood clots caused by a car accident.
I regret not asking my dad and his brothers anything about their experiences. But as a child of the 60s, I was always told to never ask about their experiences. So many stories lost.
