When I was beginning to get interested in war and the like, I had a conversation with my great uncle Malcolm. He was a mean old sod who smoked terrible cigars just to piss people off, or so my mom said, and swore like a bastard, I asked him about WW2 and what he did. He told me this story about being at an airfield in France and watching a man die on a stretcher an arms reach away from him. It is the only time I have ever witnessed the thousand yard stare and to be honest it scared the hell out of me.
I have never been to war and wouldn't volunteer so I have no way of knowing what that kind of thing is like but the look in his eyes pretty much kept me from ever thinking it would be a good time.