My (ex)father-in-law was a colour-sergeant, Royal Marine commandos, in the last war. I used to share his rum on weekends which was when he imbibed. Several times in our conversations he would talk of his experiences, some scary, some horrific. He obviously survived the war but not without injury though his mind and body were intact. He once led a platoon of men to their deaths. He was the only survivor simply because he had the experience in survival. This memory caused him the most grievous emotions even many years after the event. The one sentiment he always expressed was that war was such a stupid waste - of everything.

Ka kite
from Middle-earth