I had an uncle many years ago in England that was a carpenter working on building construction and like most young and able men at that time he was encouraged to join the Army at the start of the Second World War.
He was a single man and owned a motorbike and his life was opening up for him as Britain slowly emerged from the years of the depression hoping for better times to come.
It wasn't long before he was called up to take active service and was enrolled in the Royal Army Service Corps and having some knowledge of driving he became a driver of an army truck.
In my early childhood days I was encouraged to write to him as he served in North Africa, Italy and finally Austria while he responded faithfully giving me reasons why he couldn't send me bullets at souvenirs!
He told me after he had returned safely of his abhorrence of war and the ugly side of service and explained that despite many attempts to get him to accept a higher rank he remained a private thoughout the war.
The reason he said was that he never wanted to be in a position where he might send another human being to his death; luckily he survived the conflict to tell me that himself.
Image found at www.miliblog.co.uk