A bit off topic, but I thought I would share anyway. My grandfather was a Gallipoli vet, joined in 1914, and fought all the way through to 1918. Was a cavalryman in the 7th Light Horse, was in the charge at Beersheeba, and in the entry into Damascus in 1918.
He was the only survivor of the 1914 entry in his regiment to survive in one piece. He was the best horseman I ever knew. But he never celebrated Anzac Day, never went on any of the marches, hardly ever spoke about his experiences. He hated being called a war hero. When I told him I wanted to join the Navy, I could tell he wasnt happy, though he did not say much.
Post Traumatic stress syndrome is what killed him in the finish....he suffered a total nervous collapse, just used to sit there and stare into nothing. I was 17 and could not bring myself to to talk to him. They tried to treat with shock therapy, but he had a strke and died as a result.
My grandad was not a war hero, just a guy who did his duty and paid a big price for that.....
My wife is Russian and I met her grandfather before he died. He was a Russian Siberian , fought the Germans in front of Moscow, and of course survived the war. He gave his medals to my wife, and she gave them to me, because she knows I am into that sort of stuff. I found my grandfather in law was remarkably similar , and yet politically opposite to my own grandfather....he did not hate nay of his former enemies, but used to get very upset on their May Day services. Did not want to talk about his experiences in the war, but like my grandfather had a certain strength of character which I admired a great deal
Finally, my stepfather was German, fought in WWII, including Stalingrad, was decorated with an Iron Cross no less. Was the most honest German I have ever known. Did not pull any punches about what he thought of the wear, and all its horror. But did not talk much about it, and thought so little of his wartime experiences that he sold his medals just after the war.
All these men come from the opposite ends of the triangle politically, but they sahre a comon bond in their different experiences. When I hear of people fabricating their wartime records, I dont get mad, or want to say too much, but I just know that those uunexplainable qualities that were so present in my stepfathers and grandfathers, suffers a little erosion. All those men stood for decency and courage, and the people that BS their way into parades are none of those things