I was 7 when I got the bird shot to the chest, we where varmint hunting in my mother's 40k chicken farm, they go after the chicken feed. Was at night and my brother forgot which row I was in. My parents found out when I visited my dad on his death bed some 30 years later.
We were trespassing on a farm when I took a 30-06 to the upper leg at long distance, got away and my older brother who was a medic in rsa army got the bullet out and stitched me up while he was on leave one weekend, I was 17 then.
I was causing trouble with some friends out riding the back roads year after high school when the owner of a bar we frequented earlier, caught up to us and started shooting, one bullet hit the top of my helmet and bounced around inside between the helmet and my scull causing large lacerations on top of my head. Another bounced of another bike and hit me in the arm. And a third went thru a friends torso and hit me in the upper lip area. Helmet slowed that one down as well.
Rough upbringing and doing stupid sh1t did not help, lost a few friends along the way. Caught a break and ended up in USA before I totally screwed up my life.