Pain heals. Chicks dig scars. Glory... lasts forever.
My (long deceased) great uncle had been a cavalryman in the Tsarist Army. He emigrated to the U.S. right about 1900, and proceeded to enlist in the US Army where he participated in Pershing's punitive raids into Mexico. Like your stereotypical European 19th century cav troop, he had a deep "dueling" scar over his right cheekbone and across his right cheek (I put "dueling" in quotes because I'm not really sure how he sustained it...only that it had been something sharp, and it had obviously cut deep).
The best I can muster is a similarly located scar for which I received a few stitches at age 3, after riding a wooden rocking chair down a flight of concrete steps...