From Max’s Dad:
77 years ago my father tried to join the Marines. They said nah. Flat feet or something. So he joined the Army and spent the “4 worst years of my life” trudging around Europe stopping Nazis and fascists from murdering innocents, oppressing freedom and just being assholes. He never ever spoke of it except if the story involved humor, like stealing Generals jeeps cuz they were tired, having Italian POW’s tell him that Mussolini, Hitler and FDR were all “son of a beeches” or becoming friends with a German kid named Rolfie who would warn them of approaching “Panzers” though they always turned out to be American tanks.
My point? There weren’t any fucking bone spurs or flat feet that kept my Dad from doing whatever part he was assigned in defeating evil.