While at the pavilion at the cemetery, someone from the military was there making a speech about all the kick-ass service grandpa did.
At the end of it, she mentioned that he had received a purple heart; that’s a medal for being injured during combat.
A whisper comes over the crowd! “We had no idea!”

At the luncheon, Mom and I were talking about the award.
“Gee Mom, why was everyone so surprised to hear he got the purple heart?”
“Even Grandma didn’t know that!”, she commented.
“What are you talking about?”, I ask.
“What makes you think that he got hurt during the war?”, Mom asks, looking confused/interested.
“He told me that he got his junk shot off and that’s why he had an ostomy bag!”
“He did what?”, as Mom tries to contain her laughter.
“He told me that he got shot in the junk! I’ve been telling my friends that Grandpa got his junk shot off and Grandma stayed with him!”
“No honey, he had prostate cancer.”
“WHAT?!?!?!”

Back at Grandma’s and knowing Grandpa, I ask my other cousins what they were told.
The two older boys were told that while sleeping, Grandpa was stabbed with a bayonet.
The younger cousin was told that Grandpa was attacked by a cougar or a tiger; depending which day it was.

That man hook-lined-and-sinkered all of us.
Pretty sure I can hear him slapping his knee and laughing.