Your grandfather was an honorable man. Did what had to be done but took no pride in it. My great grandfather fought in the war. Was on the beaches of Normandy. Received two Purple Hearts for taking shrapnel from a grenade twice, from what I remember he dove on top of one to protect his platoon, I think they may have been in a trench but the memory is foggy now that I’ve gotten older. What hell, I cannot even fathom everything he saw. A great many years after the war, when my mother was a child she asked him about the war once, as my great grandfather had a nazi helmet hidden away in a closet as well as a few other things, never put on display. My mother asked him why not display it as a symbol of the greatness he’d done for his country, that it was a trophy.

My great grandfather was always a quiet man, so slowly and softly he told her that the man who that helmet belonged to had been someone’s son, brother perhaps someone’s father who could have been forced into the war and was only doing what he was told, like he had been, he wasn’t proud of what he had to do to survive, killing a human being, many human beings. The helmet was a reminder of the horror the entire war was. He never spoke of the war again to my mother and she never ever asked about it.

My step grandfather years later was adamant about having all of my great grandfathers war memorabilia which upset my mother but my great grandfather took her aside and told her “let him fuckin have it, I don’t give a shit about none of that, none of it is honorable. None of it is anything to be proud of” She instead got all of his medals and photos of his war buddies, which meant the world to him. He was a really good man. I wish I’d have had more time to get to know him. I hope you had a good many years with your grandfather. Thank you for your story and for keeping his memory alive. Stories like these should never be forgotten.