Got drunk with my father-in-law one Christmas Eve and finally got him to tell me about his war experiences. He was 15 when WWII ended, in the Hitler Youth (for a very good reason I'll explain below, not because he was particularly enamored with the Nazis) and saw combat as a gun commander on a train-mounted AA gun (at 15! and he was the oldest guy on his gun crew). He had 3 trains bombed out from under him by the Allies. He actually showed me the shrapnel scars on his legs from near-miss aircraft bombs. Apparently AA gun commanders sat behind the breach of the gun and you were pretty much protected from the mid-thighs up by the gun. Your lower legs were dangling below the gun and exposed.
His father was a minor, local communist party official and, in the late '30s, he was carted off to a concentration camp. My FIL was the oldest of 6 children. As further punishment, his family was put on reduced food rations. His family was offered full food rations if my FIL joined the Hitler Youth when he became old enough. He joined. His father survived the camps, by the way, but didn't make it home until late '45.
We polished off a good bottle of Spanish Brandy that night. Rest in peace, Vadder.