This is the story of one family's legacy. A grandfather, son, and grandson all serving their country in times of war. Elmer Ullestad was a soldier in the First World War, his son Harold was a sailor in World War II, and his grandson, an Air Force pilot that spent 24 years flying for the U.S. Air Force. The accounts of all three combined into one story.

Elmer's firsthand accounts, written by a young man from Iowa, paint a vivid picture of what American soldiers experienced in the trenches and forests of France in 1918. He fought at Belleau Wood and the Argonne Forrest, surviving while others around him fell. He witnessed firsthand the horrors of war and somehow miraculously survived to tell his story.

His son Harold, my father, was also called to serve his country just as his father had. His service and sacrifice were required in the greatest war the world had ever experienced, The Second World War. Electing to serve in the Navy, Petty Officer Harold Ullestad writes of what it was like for a young man going off to war in 1942 after the tragedy of Pearl Harbor. He served America in the South Pacific; a member of the "Greatest Generation."

My story is also one of service, but of a different journey. I elected to serve; they served when called. Mine is a memoir of 24 years of service from the anguish and exhilaration of USAF Pilot training, what it was like to squeeze a B-52 between two mountain peaks in the middle of the night, scrambling to an alert jet at the height of the Cold War, and a deployment to Afghanistan after the terrorist attacks on September 11th, 2001.

Our service is not unique, but our story is. Three generations of service; a family that collectively fought in every American war of the 20th Century, from World War I through Afghanistan. This is a story of service and sacrifice, not the "ultimate sacrifice" of fallen, but that of the veteran that has given body, mind, and soul. My grandfather Elmer never spoke of the war upon his return. My father was fortunate not to experience the horrors his father had, yet that does not detract from the sacrifices he made and the friends he lost. Whose sacrifice did not end with his time in the Navy. He would endure the anguish of watching all his sons continue to serve in American conflicts; James in the jungles of Vietnam earning not one but two Bronze Stars for valor, Gary, patrolling the skies of Korea and Europe in his F-16, and that of my own service in Afghanistan. My father waited for his sons to return as his father had waited for his.

Private Elmer Ullestad, Battle of the Argonne, WWI, 1918
"I kept digging with my fingers, trying to get down deeper into the ground. Those bullets got pretty close. The boy next to me got hit in the shoulder, but I could not turn to see how bad it was -cramped quarters. Then there came a bullet that hit the ground between my feet, and all this time, I was continuously digging with my fingers and wondering what was to happen next.

Petty Officer Harold Ullestad, USNR, South Pacific, 1943, WWII
"I did see enough planes land at the island to know I wasn't that far from the fighting. Some of the planes were shot up pretty bad and some had blood that had to be cleaned out. The big torpedo bombers called Avengers would come in often with someone either killed or wounded in the back of the airplane."

Lt Col Charles Ullestad, B-52 Pilot, Afghanistan, 2002
"We began our runs just after 0500 and did not let up till almost 0700. In that two-hour span, we released over 30 weapons and onloaded about 25,000lbs of fuel. The March 6th records from Anaconda include the following: a B-52 with a mix of JDAMs and MK-82s attacked from 0515 to 0629 local time. Within this time frame, Jazz 11 dropped CBU's on immediate request targets at 0545 local time and released a string of Mark 82's on the Whale fifteen minutes later."