My Father was in WWII. He was 16 at the time of the attack, and was drafted two years later. He served in the South Pacific, going from Australia, to Guam, to the Phillipines and beyond. Eventually he made the rank of sergeant, and although I have seen photographs of him during this time, he never talked about what he saw or did there. Such was his generation... do your job, survive and come home without making waves.
My admiration grows for my Dad and his entire generation with each passing year. 75 years later, we still remember.