My dad was supposed to be named after an uncle who was a "wagoner" in a US machine gun company that was hauled by mules. Though he got to France quite late in 1918, this gent was still exposed to gas badly enough to seriously screw up his lungs until the day he died.
Not a great deal of "glory" in all of that... and to add insult to injury, getting gassed was not conducive to hauling back war trophies.
(in order to emigrate he had to serve before leaving.)
Ukrainian by birth, but part of the Astro-Hungarian empire.
A Cossack, by my fathers recollection, (born in mid 20's) His words were "as bad as he treated me, I believe he was a Cossack".