My father-in-law was on an LST that was involved in the invasions of North Africa, Sicily, and the mainland of Italy. He was also on it on D-Day. His LST got hung up on a sand bar, along with about 50 others, as the tide was slightly miscalculated. As these LSTs sat motionless waiting for the tide to rise again, German gunners were picking them off like ducks on a pond. He said it would take no more than 3 shots for them to pinpoint their target, and everyone knew which LST would be next based on the first shot. They got about 20 before the Allies disabled the gun. He was among those who survived and were given the job of removing the remains from the destroyed LST.
He was a simple, kind man. A birdwatcher, a boy scout leader, a pretty decent athlete, and a great father to his two daughters.
He never spoke of this day until he was in his 60s, and stumbled upon an organization that reunited LST crewman. He found his old LST mates, those still alive. They convened from time to time.
Eventually he and his DW, and as many of his crew who could make it, along with many other crews, returned to Normandy. I think it was for the 40th anniversary of D-Day.
He found some inner peace from that, and it was only then that he'd tell us about that horrific day.
He passed not long ago.
He was one of the finest men I ever knew.