Long story semi short, my mothers' brother was based in the UK as well and could have come home, but he elected to stay in the US Army Air Corp.
So while flying extra missions his bomber was shot down over Germany in July 1944.
His body never made it back home. A military gravestone wasn't placed in a local cemetery until 2001. That memorial service was powerful and is still very fresh in my mind as people traveled from afar to be there including my uncle's former fiancee who kept in touch with our family all these years.
My youngest son bears his hero great-uncle's first and last name as his first and middle names. He played taps along with another of my sons at the memorial service.
We the nephews spoke for our parents during the eulogy. None of us could make it through without great difficulty. As my mom says, her brother was the glue that held her family together, but then he was gone...
So for me it's easier to look at a few pics of WW II planes in the air than to relive more of it seeing and hearing from the survivors. I am very happy for them of course and for their families who received them back, but for me it hits too close to home.