My father was a radioman on a freighter sailing back and forth to Murmansk. The Navy probably saved his life when they drafted him and made him a cook on a base near Washington D.C.
About 20 years ago my father asked if I saw his metal for the Murmansk run....
I hadn't so he pulls it out and it was in Cyrillic, a metal for service from Russia, and signed by Boris Yeltsen.
My dad passed Sept. 2011.
I still miss our conversations.