My late German father-in-law worked for Heinkel in Rostock on the first jet airplane in the 1930s. He worked on pretty much any Heinkel aircraft built before 1941. He 111s, He 70s, He 115s, he knew them all.
Later he joined the Luftwaffe, eventually became a ground crewman in N. Africa. He never talked much about the war, only about the sand, the heat and the fleas.
He woke up one morning in Tunisia, all the officers were gone, only him and his crew were left, and the Americans were now in his camp. He then spent four years in US POW camps, Ft Hood and Ft Huachuca as well as others in LA and AL, etc..
He loved America, hated Russia and said the best thing that ever happened was him getting captured by the Americans. I asked him why he joined the Luftwaffe; he said it was because he wanted to fight for his country, use his metallurgical knowledge (he'd been going to college for metallurgy before he was drafted to work for Heinkel) but he thought volunteering for the army would get him sent to the USSR.
He was right. His friend Freddy volunteered for the Wehrmacht, was captured by the Soviets and did not come back until 1955- ten years after the war was over.
My FIL's biggest sayings:
"Never volunteer for anything. Freddy did, and he came back ten years after the war, with no fingernails. I stayed to myself and got to go to America."
"The solution for the world's troublemakers? Ach- line them all up against a wall and shoot them."
"Every little bean has to make its little sound. (Jedes Boehnchen hat sein Toenchen)."