People WANT to tell their stories, so that neither they nor the things they did will be forgotten. Families may have heard it ("Aw, Dad's going on agin about being at Khe San") too often for it to register. Alternately, it might never be told because the story would be considered unbelievable, too awful, or simply because no one has expressed interest.

For instance:

My father-in-law worked for SHAEF Forward during WW2, and at one point was security officer for a supply depot in Belguim. One day his Belgian counterpart came to him and said that the Belgians wanted to do him a favor for the favors he'd done them: have his sidearm, a Colt .45 revolver, engraved. He demurred, thinking that they would have some guy scratching on it, by noting that there was a war on and he had to carry a sidearm. He was presented with a FN 7.65 mm automatic (1910 Browning model) to use, and having no more quick excuses, surrendered his Colt. Two days later it was returned, engraved by one of the Master Engravers at Fabrique Nationale, a truly great job. He offered to return the automatic, but was told to keep it because "We have a lot them."

A nice story, but I wouldn't have believed it...except BOTH pistols are in the possession of my wife. And this story was finally told one day when we were talking of something else entirely.

On November 10, 1944, the USS Mt. Hood exploded at Manus Harbor, New Guineau, blowing a hole 85 feet deep and 1,000 feet long in the sea floor. The ship itself disappeared when the 13,000+ tons of ammunition went off.

I knew nothing of this until a couple of years ago, when an older man came into my office and asked me if we had info on it. Seems like he was in the USS Mindanao, one of the ships that was damaged, and had helped find and treat many of those wounded or killed by the blast -- including his best friend.

Taking the time to listen is one of the perks of my job.