Edward Gunther Hansen (1912-1993)

My grandmother Martha Kindt Hansen, my grandfather Ludwig Hansen, and their two children Ludwig and Wilhelm came from Rostock, Germany, via Hamburg on the Abraham Lincoln, and arrived on Ellis Island on October 13, 1910. They settled in Manchester, Connecticut. My German grandparents died when I was a child. What I remember is they always spoke heavily accented English in front of me, never German. Relatives sang German um pah pah songs around the piano at family gatherings, and there was a lot of beer drinking.

 My father Edward Gunther Hansen was the first born in the United States on May 20, 1912. That was just weeks after the sinking of the Titanic, the big story of the day. My dad was a popular student at Manchester High School. He played football and was the president of his high school class of 1930. He went from high school to work at Cheney Brothers Textile Mills, where he was a head dyer and eventually superintendent of the silk mill. He met my mother, Mildred Theresa Mellor, a chemist, in the lab at Cheney’s where he was her boss. My mother tells the story of my silly father cutting off his tie and throwing it out the window. It turns out, that is a German Carnival Thursday custom of exchanging a tie for a kiss.

During World War II, my father was recruited into the U.S. Army 94th Division of Patton’s Third Army. He served as a medic, one of the most dangerous jobs in the army. I suspect he didn’t want to directly engage in fighting against his German cousins, but rather chose a role of healing instead. My father’s division landed in Normandy 94 days after the D-Day invasion. Their division was involved in the  liberation of Paris, and they then headed toward the Battle of the Bulge.

The night before the Battle of the Bulge, my dad somehow gained access to the officers’ liquor supply and handed it all out to his men. The next morning, he was relieved when he found out he and his men wouldn’t go directly into the Battle of the Bulge, but remain on the outskirts. An officer asked what happened to his liquor. My father replied, “It must have evaporated, sir.”  His sense of humor got him out of many sticky situations.

I knew my father received a bronze star, but it wasn’t until after his death in 1993 that I found his citation:

Tech. Sgt. Edward G. Hansen, while acting in his assignment as Section Leader in the 94th Division Artillery Medical Detachment distinguished himself in this capacity during the action of the Saar-Moselle Triangle from the 9th of February to the 9th of March 1945 and the subsequent surge to the Rhine River by his devotion to duty, over-readiness and willingness to carry out his assignments regardless of time or place, meticulousness in his knowledge of his subject of care and evacuation of the wounded, coordinator of medical supplies to four (4) Field Artillery Medical Detachments, and the preparation and rendition of Medical records, of this entire organization. Under the most adverse circumstances of a fast-moving military situation, such as the one wherein the 94th Division drove from the Saar River to the city of Ludwigshafen, Germany, Tech. Sgt. Hansen labored tirelessly at times under the dim light afforded by an issue flashlight to get medical supplies down to the units and prepare the casualty reports for higher headquarters that are so important for replacement data. Tech. Sgt. Hansen distinguished himself with exceptional meritorious conduct whenever called on to perform his duties and was ever ready to act in the capacity as aid man in the aid station. On many occasions, when the Battalions were separated from his headquarters by many miles, they were always kept well supplied with the vital medicaments, blood plasma, morphine, splints and bandages that were essential to the consummation of the duties and responsibilities of this office.  This was all done without regard for his own personal safety or concern. His superior control and co-ordination of four widely separately Bn. Medical Detachments in the race to the Rhine could only be accomplished by a man with a great devotion to his duty and one whose only aim is the accomplishment of his mission by untiring effort regardless of the obstacles in his path.

                  (with Patton’s Third Army)

I knew nothing of this. My dad’s only reference to his wartime medic service was when he would fix a scrape on my knee. He would proudly say, “I can do this; I was a medic in the army.”

I have often wondered why my father never spoke of the war. I have had similar discussions with friends and acquaintances whose fathers also served. After reading the description of his bronze star citation, I can understand that he would not want to relive any of the horrendous scenes he witnessed. He was content to live in peace by Coventry Lake, Connecticut, for the rest of his life.

 My father and his German cousins took different paths, simply because of where they were born. Sometimes my father would quote Neitzche. Perhaps this really is a story that is “beyond good and evil.”