That's a whole other conversation for another thread. My grandfather and some grand/great uncles were in the thick of WW2. My wife's paternal grandfather was really in the shit. And none of 'em talked about it until very late in life. And I have no science to back this up. But I suspect some of 'em, like my grandpa just felt like, "It was just this thing we did and we came home to learn to type, raise chickens, and drive trucks. We had to do it so you wouldn't have to so get me a beer and quit asking questions." and the others it was more of a "I saw and did some shit I don't want to ever describe, I carry it with me always. But it is mine, and mine alone." Or something in between.
I got to change the wreath out at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at Arlington many years ago. But a great honor was about 10 years ago, we were at my wife's paternal grandfather's home and I hadn't said a word (rare for Lobo). And some grandkid or cousin or something asked a question about WW2 and his service. And be went into a back closet and brought out his uniform with medal plate and handed it to me. He couldn't see very well, if at all. Barely knowing me, he asked me to explain what it all meant. So I explained everything from the service stripes to the commendations to a few of the campaign medals. I didn't know all of them, but I was pretty close. He died a few years later, but we got him a plaque before he went at the Nimitz Museum in Fredericksburg. RIP, Jake.