My Dad and my father-in-law (also on the beach on D-day) were both WW2 vets in the Canadian Army. I only heard war stories after a couple of rum and cokes at the Legion, after the Remembrance Day services. One that stuck with me was from my father-in-law, a 20 year old radio operator at the time, calling in artillery shelling coordinates. He was looking through binoculars riding in a personnel carrier when a Brit came up and asked if he could walk along side for a bit. Harold said "Of course." A few minutes later, his radio antenna fell over. The Brit immediately pulled up his Bren gun and shot a sniper down from a distant tree. Getting over the immediate shock of what he had narrowly avoided, Harold turned to thank the soldier for his life but he was gone.