My Great Uncle Willis Page, who was a paratrooper of the 11th Airborne in World War II

Dropped into Luzon in early 1945 after the C-47 aircraft that was transporting them was hit by enemy fire and heavily damaged. He and 12 other men from his stick managed to get out of the burning aircraft and landed far off course in enemy territory in the jungle. Stranded from the rest of the assault force, they had to survive in the harsh jungle environment fighting off Japanese patrols that happened upon them for almost 3 months until the Allied advance finally found them. Out of the 28 men he took off with, only he and 4 other men survived. My family still has the Arisaka Type-99 rifle he took from a Japanese sharpshooter that had attacked them. The story goes, he only had 3 rounds left in his .45, and when the sharpshooter pinned them down, he held it up and fired his last three rounds at the direction of the gunfire, luckily mortally wounding the shooter. He used the rifle for the last month he was stranded in the jungle; it most definitely saved his life.

TL;DR, Great Uncle was badass paratrooper and likely melted panties off with his sly-ass smirk.