My MIL told me how the Japanese planes bombed her village one day, then marched in the next day and took all the school books, food and money. Her brothers had hid out in the hills after the planes left and spent the occupation fighting with resistance forces. Her teenage sister was forced to be a "comfort girl" for the Japanese officers.
Then one day they heard terrific fighting coming from the beach. They heard the Americans were coming ashore. The next day there was cause for celebration. The Americans had returned. My MIL stood and saluted as General Douglas MacArthur and the president of the Philippines drove by in a jeep.
So many stories.
That generation is quickly dying out. So many men came back and didn't talk about their experiences, so as they die those stories are lost forever.