A number of years ago my dad had a health issue, so I spent a few weeks with him. He had a full shop so while he was resting I had some projects I wanted to do. I was looking for a tool and found a knife that had a leather sheath that was dried out, it wasn't a kabar but it was a copy of one.

I knew dad had fought in WW2, so I went into the house and asked him about the knife and he confirmed he carried it. He didn't say anything more, and got a little quite. I told him that when I was in uniform I carried a randall and told him had save me once. He replied in a small voice yeah me too on D day.