Your great grandad died 6 years before you were born, Oliver was his name. He fought in WW2 and refused to even talk about it.

You sit in your grandma's house, looking at an old photo album when you see a picture of Oliver.

He looked sriouse and stern, a man deserving of great respect, his sharp features only heightening his look.

Suddenly, his ghost appears behind you, "That's me, kiddo." He stated matter of factly, a slight hint of affection towards you behind his voice.