My father-in-law was the same way when world war II broke out. He wanted to fly fighters so he enlisted in the Army Air Corp and was accepted to flight school. Upon graduation he was selected to be trained to fly P-38's but since they were hard to come by the Army decided that train him to fly a C-47 to get some dual-engine time until they could get some dedicated P-38's to train on. The problem was that they needed transport pilots worse when the war in Europe started to heat-up after the invasion of Sicily so he was stuck for the duration flying ammo and fuel to the troops, first in Italy and then later, to Patton's army in France. Before the D-Day invasion, he was flying supplies to the partisans in France, making low-level night drops. On one mission apparently the Germans had found out what was happening and they were there instead, and my father-in-law, during a slow low-level pass, while leaning out the window looking for the signal to drop their load was grazed on the side of his head by a shot from the ground (probably a rifle shot) but the bullet only left a nasty welt, however it never bled, which he always claimed was why his commanding officer refused to sign-off on his Purple Heart since his rule was that you had to actually BLEED before you could be considered as having been wounded.
He flew C-47's until the end of the war and then was moved up to C-54's when they started to fly troops home from Europe, which means that he may have even brought my father home from his 3 years serving in the Persian Gulf hauling supplies to the Russians, overland, from the Red Sea to Armenia.
http://pgcvowwii.homestead.com/History.html
My father missed being invited to the White House by 5 years as he died in 1989. My father-in-law, the mis-assigned 'fighter' pilot, died 8 years earlier.
The 'Greatest Generation' is just about gone.
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