As Imperial Japan surrendered on Aug. 15, 1945 marking the end of World War II, Gene Hanson was serving his country.

He had no time to complain. There was work to do.
During his country's involvement in the Korean War and Vietnam War, he also served.

Let others grumble. Duty called. He answered.

As a retired chief storekeeper with a Navy career that spanned those three turbulent decades and involvement in three wars, he continued to serve. He made it a point to always be present when Naval Hospital Bremerton (NHB) personnel were being sent off to support Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation Enduring Freedom. He was there to pass out care packages filled with everything from smoked salmon to playing cards. No matter how early or how late, he was there for the Sailors. No complaint.

On this August 15, Hanson found himself on the receiving end for a change, as NHB's Chief Petty Officer Association members, along with family and friends celebrated his 90th birthday with an informal pot-luck and cake-cutting ceremony.

"Gene has been a huge supporter of our hospital and staff members for years. We've seen him pass out fruit baskets over the holidays and no matter the time of day, be there when we had staff going on deployment overseas. As a Navy chief, he continues to care for Sailors," said retired Master Chief Hospital Corpsman Stan Graham, addressing the gathering.

"It's such an honor just to be in the same room with a man who been a part of so much history. He also has always taken the time to share with our younger Sailors and that means a lot," said NHB Command Master Chief Randall Pruitt.

Hanson acknowledged his well-wishers by downplaying his career and community involvement.

"I thank all the chiefs who made this happen. You go out of your way to help others. NHB has saved my life a few times. I feel pretty good for being 90. There are a few things I can't do that I used to do 30 years ago. But then I probably don't want to now. I'm not complaining," shared Hanson, who was born Aug. 12, 1925.

NHB chief petty officer selectees - Chief (select) Hospital Corpsmen Laura Blanco, Andrew E. Bernal and Chief (select) Master-at-Arms Michael Haberstumpf - were also on hand to assist with various tasks to ensure the event was a success.

"It's not often that any of us have the honor to come across someone like Gene who has contributed so much to his country and to his community. Being able to do something like this for him is minor compared to all he's done," said Haberstumpf.

Hanson's Navy career took the Wisconsin native from the North Atlantic in WWII to South China Sea in the Vietnam War era. His enlistment might not be filled with dramatic examples of legend, but it is a model of endurance, perseverance and dedication.

He initially enlisted in 1942 and served aboard ammo ships and destroyers as a gunner's mate

"They (the destroyers) were tin cans in those days," exclaimed Hanson.

He was in the harbor of Toulon, France, at the end of the WWII in the European theater and in the Pacific at the beginning of the end in defeating Imperial Japan.

When asked about steaming in the cold North Atlantic during those early dark days of the 1940s, he'll let whoever once said that salt water doesn't freeze know that if they'd been in a slow moving convoy out of England, they'd find out the truth of the matter. That is if they made it through.

In rough weather, there were few places inside his ammo ship that the sea couldn't reach. Wet gear never dried and damp would spread through a compartment.

Even in good conditions and decent weather, getting a convoy of up to 300 ships across the Atlantic was a major challenge without a collision or some other mishap. It was worse in winter, and the main convoy route cut through a region of the North Atlantic that had some of the world's foulest weather for any mariner to handle. Ships that were encased in ice or blinded by snow had to struggle to keep their place in the formation. Seas would run up to 60 feet high and break the backs of ships and smash lifeboats to splinters. Men who were blown or washed overboard often froze to death in seconds.

Even in the most arduous conditions, peak alertness had to be maintained at all times. At night, crew kept bone-chilling vigils, searching the white waves for a conning tower of a German U-Boat submarine. Gene's watches would be 10 hours or more. It was tedious. There were bouts with boredom. The strain and exhaustion were mingled with a combination of fear and fatalism.

The year Gene joined the Navy, 120 ships were sunk by German U-boats in May and another 119 in June.

"We had a submarine surface in the middle of us once and we all opened fire. We did our best, but a lot of our ships at that time had outdated equipment, left over from the last war. Hell, even the ship would complain every time we went through a wave," related Hanson.

The ship went through a lot of waves.

The ship complained.

Gene didn't.

There was even one convoy trip that started out in Liverpool, England, got rerouted, and wound up all the way in Calcutta, India, supplying needed ordnance to troops fighting in Burma.

With Victory in Europe announced, his ship left the south of France for south of Manila in the Philippine Archipelago, where his and 2,000 other ammo ships waited for the orders to invade the Japanese mainland.
Orders that would mean more hard fighting.

Those orders never came.

Some complained.

Gene didn't.

His ship and many others loaded up as many GIs as they could and made the long trek home. When his ship docked in New Jersey, there was no celebration. No fanfare. No pomp and circumstance. The big celebration was up in New York City.

A young petty officer like Gene had done his duty and survived, which was more than many could say about those years of war.

"But every day was dangerous," explained Gene. "The sea was dangerous, the U-boats, the submarines were dangerous. Hell, being on an ammo ship was dangerous. But after a couple trips, it didn't bother me anymore."
He demobilized. After 30 days, with jobs scarce, he came back to the career he knew.

He shifted platforms to become a 'Tincan Sailor,' steaming on the destroyer USS Rogers (DDR 876). They were there off the coast of Korea in 1951, lobbing shells to provide artillery support and help with the evacuation of wounded in a war that had begun earlier on June 25, 1950, with fighting that went on for three long years.

When Gene and his ship returned to stateside there was no flag-waving, nor has there been any victory parade or celebration noting the end of hostilities between America's allies in South Korea and the North. It's not a slight to the American service member, as would be the case in the upcoming decade.

"We didn't get any welcome home from the war because that war is still going on. There (still) has been no declaration of peace," says Hanson.

Diplomats complained on both sides.

Gene didn't.

The 1960s took Gene from the Northern Pacific back to the South China Sea and Southern Pacific waters.

By 1961, President Kennedy had increased the number of American military advisors to South Vietnam. Along with them came military supplies that were shipped into Saigon, mostly from the then-giant Navy base at Subic Bay, Republic of the Philippines.

Hanson was on USS Renshaw (DDE 499) providing escort duty and fire support for cargo ships and aircraft ferry ships going back and forth to South Vietnam.

"Back in '62 most of us didn't even know where Vietnam was, let alone having heard of it. I remember that bartenders out in Subic would know when we were pulling out before we did. 'Course it was the same thing in the Second World War with the bartenders in Jersey who would know before us deck-plate Sailors," shared Hanson.

It was on December 11, the aircraft ferry USS Core (CVE 13) reached Saigon carrying 33 C-H-21C twin rotor helos and their pilots and ground crews. They were to support South Vietnamese units, but remain under U.S. Army control and operation. Those 400 men in the two helicopter companies would raise the total number of U.S. military personnel in-country Vietnam to 1,500. "Many more," the New York Times reported, "are expected."

Gene spent two more years steaming from Subic to Saigon, a world away from the country he served. He retired in Long Beach, California in 1964. He was part of a group of six or seven. They had no ceremony. He collected his pay and got his new ID card.

Gene did 18 years of sea duty out of his 22 years. The convoys and deployments he went on are simply too numerous to remember.

He made it back to Bremerton, where he'd been before.

He went to work at Puget Sound Naval Shipyard as a ship-fitter, completing another career there. He knew that Bremerton was a great military town. It still is, he says.

He watched the news like a lot of others during those years and followed the war in that far-off corner of Southeast Asia called Vietnam.

He heard the protestors; most he attests, were protesting just to protest. It was the thing to do. The students, he thought, were caught up in the sensation of it all.

They complained.

He didn't.

Over the years, he and his wife Adele have settled into their retirement.

With no complaints.

"No one listens anyway," quipped Hanson.

NHB's CPOA were more than happy to be able to show their appreciation for one of their own. Earlier that week members of the association had gone over to the Hanson's and surprised Gene with a pre-birthday gift by helping to repair a fence around their lot.

"Every year, those of Gene's generation are less. To share his birthday and toast him for all his contributions to our command and others was just as special for me as we know it is for him. He's such a great guy," shared Chief Hospital Corpsman Jason Slaton.

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