A true anecdote, if I may.
When I was in Vietnam, I worked in an office in Danang. No dodging bullets or anything, the city was quite secure and our duty was working 12-hour days in Personnel, finance and such, in an air-condition office for 6-1/2 days a week. On Sunday afternoons if we could get our hands on a vehicle, we would sometimes go to China Beach,which was actually a beach. The trip took us over a bridge that was protected by RVN army soldiers who walked across and made sure no one was trying to blow up the bridge, or whatever.
When these soldiers got bored, sometimes they would shoot at fish in the water. But there was a tiny problem with that, we learned. If the angle into the water was too shallow, the bullet would skim off the water and could actually hurt someone. So a group of us were coming back to our barracks from the beach one day, crowded into an open-top jeep, and wearing only our bathing suits. Riding along, we heard Ed Bisson, riding in the back say "Ouch" or something like that followed by a "clink" sound.
What had happened was, Ed was struck by an M16 bullet that had been fired from the bridge (about half a mile away). It didn't even break the skin, but he had a red welt where it struck him, and of course he had the spent bullet as a souvenier.
When we got back to the barracks, Ed said that he was going to go out to the Medevac hospital to have his wound looked at. We thought he was being silly, but...who cares? Upon returning he told us he was going to get a Purple Heart. We laughed it off.
Fast forward two months. Ed gets a newspaper clipping from his hometown with the following headline, "Local Boy wounded in Attack outside Danang!"
He got his purple heart.