Eh, my traceable ancestors aren't terribly interesting, as far back as I've been able to go (10th century or so, Norway, Germany and England... lots of raider's blood in me). My paternal grandfather, though... He never figured out who his father was, took his last name from one of his possible fathers when he was 16 and falsifying information so as to join the Marine Corps... he fought in the Pacific Theater, and wound up getting shipped home after charging a machine gun nest and taking a rather large bullet to the leg. If stories are to be believed, he managed to get a hand grenade in there, which enabled his platoon to storm the place successfully.
All I personally remember about the guy was the fact that he was bedridden the whole time I knew him, and his hand was bigger than my head. He died when I was five.