Last month, I came across that the future King George V got a tat in Japan when he was in the RN, around 1880. Lion and Dragon, iirc.
There's a current thread about tattoo regret becoming a trend Down Under.
I got separated from USAF active duty on 20/12/63 at McGuireAFB, NJ, upon return from a tour in Italy. I flew back to Detroit that night. My parents and I were sitting around the kitchen table; I was telling my tales of derring-do. It got pretty warm in the kitchen, so I took off my blouse. Then I loosened my tie, then I took off my uniform shirt. I was sitting there, drinking a Stroh’s in my t-shirt. My mother then asked me why I never got a tat. I said, “Ma, if I got one, I thought you would’ve killed me.” She allowed that she could’ve lived with a shamrock or a harp, as long as my t-shirt sleeve covered it.