My last WW2 vet buddy died 4- 5 years ago. We used to eat breakfast together and chat on Sunday mornings at a little local greasy spoon.
I knew and worked with many back in my younger days. A few had been POWs. One I recall was nicknamed "Sweet Potato". He got hung with that nickname because that was all they had to eat as POWs and he still hated and refused to eat a sweet potato
My foreman at a place I worked back in my late teens was a D - Day vet. Big, tall, usually quiet, quick to smile, no B-S guy. Big Bill was the best foreman I ever worked under.
Wife's dad was a Chaplain's Assistant, served in the Pacific and later the occupation of Japan (he went on to become a Protestant pastor himself after the war). He never mentioned any of the tough to talk about stuff until his last years.
Never question if the Chaplain's service saw or actively participated in combat when necessary.
