What an excellent thread, on a subject close to my heart.
My father had two cousins, both of whom served as aircrew in RAF Bomber Command during WW2. One, Albert, was a rear gunner, and an only child. He was killed on his 4th operational sortie at the age of 23 in 1944. The other, Eric, was a wireless operator, who completed several operational tours and survived the war. He then returned to his peacetime occupation of banking.
Thus was the overall aircrew casualty rate in Bomber Command (roughly 50%) reflected in our family.
I knew Eric in his later years. He lived alone and was a somewhat reserved but very pleasant man. I well remember my father and I visiting the RAF Museum at Hendon with him; I was a young boy fascinated (obsessed?) by aviation and such a trip was very exciting for me. I could not understand why Eric should not be equally pleased to come with us and tell me all about the aircraft in which he had spent what I assumed must have been the high points of his life. In fact, as I remember it he almost had to be persuaded to join us, and seemed rather withdrawn during the visit. It became clear, even to a youngster, that Eric had very mixed feelings about anything associated with his time in the RAF and I grew up assuming that he was trying to expunge his memories. I respected his position and avoided raising the subject with him, even after going on to become an RAF pilot myself.
Eric died some years ago and, such is the way of things, I realised too late how little I knew of his life. Talking to my father and aunt, I learned that Eric had talked little of his wartime experiences. However, he had confided in them how hard the loss of his cousin had been and that every single morning thereafter he had given thanks for another day of life.
After his funeral my father and I helped to sort out Eric's possessions, of which there were few. However, to our great surprise, hidden well away on top of a wardrobe we found his leather flying helmet, oxygen mask, flying gloves and 'chip bag' uniform hat. He must have 'retained' them on being demobbed. I have them still, along with his logbooks. He had made numerous notes in the latter, with additional details of notable sorties and some very human and personal memories. Some of them were eye-watering, in both possible senses of that expression...
I think many have great difficulty reconciling a desire to talk about experiences with an equal desire to respect those who died. Eric's solution seems to have been to preserve his own memories with pride but great discretion, in a very personal way.