As a youngster I always liked listening to the more humorous WW2 stories told by relatives. I think my favorite was about being in France well after the invasion and breaking into a French building to get wine for himself and friends. Filling his jacket and pants with bottles he was walking down a road with vehicles on it when it was strafed by German planes. He remembered being more worried about breaking the bottles while running than getting hit by bullets. He always laughed and said I would find as I grew older that a young man's perspectives on what's important change over time.