My dad went to Juno beach on his 20th birthday as part of the Canadian Scottish regiment, 3rd infantry division. He rarely said anything about it, but when he did, it was stuff none of us could ever imagine having to endure as a 20 year old man. He got through the invasion of Normandy and went to the battle of Caen. Details are murky, he just didn't want to talk about it.
For me, when I was 20, my hardest decision is where me and my friends would meet for beers after work.
I have a good friend, today he turns 95 years old and was a little too young for the heavy part of WWII, but he was there, for the clean-up effort. He tells stories of the Canadian lads marching through the streets of Germany, desperate women throwing themselves at the Canadian soldiers. I wanted to visit him today, I've spent his birthday with him every year in the Legion for close to 20 years. Today he was hunkered down at home, he's not big on visitors due to Covid so I respected that. I phoned him instead and we talked for an hour. No war talk, just general jocularity and laughing at stupid things like two teen boys while he sipped his birthday whiskey and waited for his gal to cook him steak and lobster.
We owe a lot to these guys, with really no way to pay it back, other than to show friendship and say thanks once a year. From my experience, they're happy with that, they don't ask for much. They really are a humble lot.
My hat's off to those guys and gals, all of them.