One of my uncles was a flagman on the USS Missouri in WWII.
Dads WW2 duty was so horrific that whenthe war ended, he chose to become a mortician, because he said he had soent the last 5 years of his life preparing men for burial, he may as well do it and get paid for it....but that being said...he had a sixth sense when dealing with the famiklies of anyone who died.......he just knew the right thing to do or say........he had a gift. I remember when my grandfather died, my grandma was running around the house like a wild woman..upstairs and downstairs, and to the door and back....and my mom and aunt kept saying “She needs valium!!”...my dad calmy said...”NO...let her be....she is just desperately looking for someone she loves that isnt here any longer”
I have never forgotten that...it was SO perfect and SO RIGHT!! (Yeah, I am so very proud that I call tha man my dad!! :-)