My sweet Daddy was a wonderful, mesmerizing story teller. He told all kinds of stories about growing up during the Great Depression, being the son of a cotton mill superintendent, going to college, etc., etc. I never wrote any of his stories down. He rarely spoke about his time in the AG other than to describe listening to Glenn Miller when in Brooklyn, drinking coconut milk from a fresh coconut when in the South Pacific, sailing around the Cape of Good Hope, etc., etc. I never wrote any of these stories down either.
So in addition to Fran's suggestion, I would encourage all children, grandchildren, relatives, and/or friends of an Armed Guard veteran to either record their stories, have them write down their memories to the extent that they are comfortable, or write them down yourself.
One of my few regrets in life is that I did not record my sweet Daddy's stories. I'd give almost anything to hear his sweet, melodic Southern voice telling about his life as a young boy and man. I'd give almost anything if my grandchildren could hear his stories or read about his experiences. Thankfully, Daddy kept some pretty good pictures, and I've pieced together some information. But it's not the same.
It's so important to preserve this information...for historical reasons, for genealogical reasons, and for the assurance that during the time when their voices are no more, we will be able to hear their voices or read their stories and keep their precious memories alive for generations to come. We owe them that. They have done so much for us.