Good story, too bad most of those types of stories will die along with the men who could tell them.
Honor and valor waned as the war wore on but didn't completely go away.
My dad flew B-25's in the Pacific. By the summer of 1945 everybody knew the was was just about over. One of his last flights was a search and destroy mission. Tasked with half a dozen other B-25s they were to fly low level and just look for something to hit. About halfway through the mission they were turning around an island at all of 50 feet when out of the corner of his eye he spotted a Jap destroyer anchored up against a bluff and covered with netting. In a split second he thought he didn't want to be the last man killed and he certainly didn't want to doom his crew either. He knew that if anybody said anything they had to go in. He was also pretty sure the Jap's didn't want to die either so he didn't say anything. Several weeks later the bomb was dropped. Later around the pilots lounge, AKA the bar, the subject of the Jap destroyer came up. Everybody had seen it.
My dad was like anybody who has been there, done that. He didn't like re-living the bad times so most of his stories were like this one, good times, $1 a week Philippina house maids, card playing and general camaraderie. After all the folks back home not only can't understand what it was really like but don't really want to hear about the horrors either.