I had two Uncles who were sunbathing in Singapore before embarking on a new career building railways. Another, after a stroll along the dunes at Dunkerque, subsequently went to warmer climes in Burma. I'm pleased to say I've inherited his sardonic DNA.
My late father was working for Weir Pumps in the 70's in Manchester when it was announced that a Japanese delegation would be visiting one day. The management, being well aware many had been involved, indicated if anybody wished to have a day off, that would be fine . The delegation duly arrived , the temperature seemingly dropped off the Kelvin scale as they were greeted with some "heartfelt sentiments " to the extent the tour of the factory was rapidly terminated.
However, as we know, narcissists and "walts" are only too common and walk amongst us. Enter a security guard at said factory who was always in the local rag, with medals, telling the world of his time in Burma...until, one day, a new arrival who had also been in Burma asked some questions, then some more questions and lo and behold, it turned out said walt had been in Burma, only not at the time or locations when the fighting was going on and had never actually been anywhere near the front line. He "left" shortly afterwards, and, strangely, never graced the local rags pages again.