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Now retired from his spot behind the pharmacy counter in the drug store at the township center, George Valent prefers to plow through the pile of books near his easy chair in his Sodom Hutchings Road home.

With only a few hobbies that include watching the grandkids with his wife, D'Nelle, Valent still follows the football exploits of his Oklahoma Sooners since the coach there has local ties and that's the school where he got his undergraduate and pharmacy degree on the GI Bill.

That was after World War II, of course, and before he met his wife - a Chaney graduate - through a Youngstown singles club.

And it was after he enlisted as a 17-year-old from Masury, choosing to pick a branch of the military rather than risk being drafted into whatever branch needed manpower at the time.

''It had to be the Navy,'' said Valent, explaining he was the only son among a family that included five sisters.

When he speaks of his time aboard three ships in the Pacific, Valent isn't moved to tears. He doesn't talk of nightmares that have bothered him for decades. He has no real scars to show.

Instead, Valent flashes a wide smile, thinking of buddies he made along the way. He tries to look on the bright side. When Valent gets handed lemons, he makes lemonade.

It's the good times, he stresses, during the four years he called himself ''just another sailor looking for a three-day pass and shore leave.''

''They kept me in for four years because they needed navigators at the time,'' Valent said.

Sure, there was that time in April 1945 when a Kamikaze suicide plane was shot out of the sky and landed on deck of the USS Xanthus. But there was no real harm done, according to Valent. He and others were trained to spot the deadly Mitsubishi Zero and were aware of the damage that could result.

Valent could be more serious, thinking of the important mission on board the USS Black Hawk.

''We had to join a task force convoy going to the nuclear testing grounds in the Marshall Islands in preparation for the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki,'' he pointed out.

''The Air Force selected two island testing targets, Eniwetok and the Bikini Islands. After we cleared and secured the two islands, the Air Force blew them up testing atom bombs. The tests were a success,'' Valent said matter-of-factly and still not showing any signs that the assignment shook him up.

He has no major complaints about living, working and training in the jungle of the Philippines with a construction battalion, other than losing a few nights' sleep.

''At night the jungle is the noisiest place in the world with all the insects and animals making noise. It was hard to sleep,'' Valent said.

He didn't care that the only thing he had to read at times was the Stars and Stripes. After all, the military newspaper had pinup photos of starlets like Betty Grable.

And when others were complaining about the subversive propaganda coming over the airwaves from Tokyo Rose, Valent preferred to enjoy what he thought of as ''nostalgic, romantic love songs.''

''In her musical caressing voice, geisha-trained Tokyo Rose would give us the news, usually distorted news of Japanese victories,'' Valent recalled.

''But listening to her sultry, seductive voice, we were as enthralled as were the Odyssey seamen of Ulysses, listening to the enchantress Circe and the mesmerizing lure of the beautiful singing of the Siren Women. Ulysses had to tie his men to the ship's mast to help them resist the fatal attraction.''

A truly romantic outlook on life that probably comes from reading all those books, Valent is quick to shy away from talk about the battle casualties. Instead he turns it into a conversation about the time he was drinking in a bar in Newport News, Va., before shipping out.

There he was, next to a friend whose name he doesn't remember at Sloppy Joe Bar, where chasers were sold for 20-cents. Behind the servicemen was a sign that said simply, ''Tokyo or Bust!''

Just looking at the old photo makes Valent break into song: ''I got a girl in every port, suing me for non-support.''

cbobby@tribtoday.com