My uncle was called up at 18 and sent ashore on the 6th of June. He made it through the war but was damaged mentally and physically and died relatively young from cancer. I would have absolutely hated being conscripted. My great uncle had the foresight to volunteer for the RAF in 1937 rather than be in the army, and he also survived the war as bomber command ground crew.
A colleague at work with a German mother had three uncles in the German army. One a tank commander, one a foot soldier, and one a sniper. I recall that only the sniper made it to the end. All soldiers are some mother's son, and each death brings misery, no matter which side you're on. So we should remember their sacrifice, because very few had a choice.
