Kenneth J. Hanson was born in Scobey, Montana in July 1924 inside of an abandoned railroad station while his father was fighting wildfires. He grew up in Minneapolis during the depths of the Great Depression [Annotator's Note: the Great Depression was a global economic depression that lasted from 1929 through 1939 in the United States]. One of seven children, Hanson and his siblings walked along the railroad tracks collecting coal for the family stove. His mother and father both worked as janitors. Though it was tough to survive sometimes, his childhood was a happy time. He was aware of the rise of Hitler [Annotator's Note: German dictator Adolf Hitler] during the 1930s, but was more concerned with the National Recovery Act [Annotator’s Note: The National Industrial Recovery Act of 1933 was a law passed to authorize the president to regulate industry for fair wages and prices that would stimulate economic recovery and to establish the Public Works Administration] and coming out of the Depression. He was working in a bowling alley, setting pins on the afternoon of 7 December 1941. Everyone quit bowling and gathered around a radio in the lobby to listen to the news reports concerning the bombing of Pearl Harbor [Annotator's Note: the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, Hawaii on 7 December 1941]. Hanson was shocked by the news and felt numb after hearing it. After joining the Army in the summer of 1942, he was selected for the Air Corps following basic training. He attended college and did his flight training in Oklahoma. The day before he was set to receive his pilot’s wings, he was transferred out of the Air Corps, being told that there were too many pilots. He was placed in an I&R [Annotator’s Note: intelligence and reconnaissance] platoon with HQ [Annotator’s Note: headquarters] Company, 410th Infantry Regiment, 103rd Infantry Division as a scout in a three-man reconnaissance team tasked with locating the enemy. They were ordered not to fire unless fired upon. He quickly learned that war is hell, and has been since the dawn of time. After surviving the war, he kissed the ground and promised to never complain as long as he lived. If not for the SNAFUs [Annotator’s Note: SNAFU is an acronym that is widely used to stand for the sarcastic expression Situation normal: all fucked up] of war, there would be no stories to tell.

Kenneth J. Hanson [Annotator’s Note: serving with the 410th Infantry Regiment, 103rd Infantry Division] recalled a time in combat while in position overlooking a road that was covered by a German cannon at the end of it. He and his recon team watched as the cannon took out two American tanks. An unknown lieutenant came to their position and ordered Hanson to drive him down the road towards the cannon. Mortar [Annotator's Note: a short smoothbore gun which fires explosive shells at high angles] fire began falling almost immediately, and Hanson drove off the road into a ditch. The lieutenant berated Hanson for not following orders. Hanson warned the lieutenant about the cannon ahead and told him he would not go any further. [Annotator’s Note: Clock dings at 0:13:31.000.] The lieutenant got in the Jeep and drove off. Hanson never saw him again. Two ships were sunk in the convoy that took him across the Atlantic to Marseilles [Annotator’s Note: Marseilles, France]. As a reconnaissance team, he and two scouts traveled in front of the company, made contact with the enemy, and directed artillery fire onto their positions. Because of his intense training, he was robotic in his first combat experience. Because he knew he could be killed, there was no fear of death. He was focused on following orders and trying to survive. Once while reconnoitering a town, friendly artillery fire began to fall around him. He began running away along a building when he came to a corner and ran right into a German soldier. The two regarded each other and, in light of their situation, ran without fighting. Hanson jumped into the back of an ambulance and was greeted by the sight of a G.I. [Annotator's Note: government issue; also a slang term for an American soldier] with his eyeballs out of their sockets, nearly dead. The ambulance arrived at a field hospital where Hanson watched operation after operation fail and the stack of bodies grow. A 6x6 truck [Annotator's Note: two and a half ton, six by six truck, also known as deuce and a half] came to pick up the bodies, but could not haul all of them off in a single trip. His most poignant memory of the war came when he and his scout team were sitting in a foxhole and could sense something approaching through the dark silence outside of it. A German soldier exited the woods with his hands raised above his head. Knowing he was alone and looking to surrender, they took him into the foxhole, fed him, and began talking. The German pulled a photo of his wife and children from his wallet and showed it to Hanson and the others. Hanson says he realized the German was just like him and just wanted to get home in one piece. The German soldier told them his thoughts on Hitler [Annotator's Note: German dictator Adolf Hitler], Goering [Annotator's Note: German Reichsmarschall Hermann Wilhelm Göring, or Goering, commanded the German Air Force and was second only to Adolf Hitler in the Nazi chain of command], and the other Nazis, saying repeatedly, “They are all wrong.” Hanson called for an MP [Annotator’s Note: Military Police] to take the prisoner to the rear and objected when they handled him roughly and regarded him as a hostile enemy. Shortly after this event, Hanson lost his religion upon seeing dozens of dead bodies in a field and realized they all looked alike except for the uniforms. He says no god would allow something so horrid to happen.

Kenneth J. Hanson [Annotator’s Note: serving with the 410th Infantry Regiment, 103rd Infantry Division] saw combat in Europe. He quickly runs through several other memories including his night spent lost in the snow outside of a German position where he heard them singing Silent Night. A German guard they befriended gave them access to a cave filled with fine wines. Another time, their French interpreter was thrown from a church steeple and killed. He felt utterly afraid one time while in combat. The scout team was in position on a high hill, watching a German outfit assemble for an attack in the valley below. They called in artillery, but failed to account for how high the hill was, which resulted in the artillery shells passing just inches above their heads while they hugged the ground and waited for the shelling to stop. There were not many moments of levity or laughter that he can recall. Once, their commander ordered them to the rear for a turkey dinner which they readily enjoyed only to find out the next day that the turkey had spoiled and had given them all bouts of dysentery which was a big SNAFU [Annotator’s Note: SNAFU is an acronym that is widely used to stand for the sarcastic expression Situation normal: all fucked up]. He thought of the enemy through the lens of “kill or be killed,” and says they were better equipped and had the respect of the Allies. [Annotator’s Note: A clock dings at 0:29.00.000.] The only force that he truly feared was the SS [Annotator's Note: Schutzstaffel; German paramilitary organization; abbreviated SS]. Once, they were ordered to make contact with the enemy who they could hear firing in the distance. Hanson carried a burp gun [Annotator's Note: German MP-40, or Maschinenpistole 40, 9mm submachine gun] with him at this time and lost the cartridge in deep snow just as he began firing. He quickly ran for cover. Hanson spent much of the war in no man’s land. While walking along the bottom of a cliff, Hanson and the others heard the sound of an approaching German tank. The tank reached the edge of the cliff and depressed its gun as far as it could and fired into the trees, sending tree bursts in all directions. However, the gun could not be depressed low enough to hit Hanson. He told the other two scouts to scream following the next shot as though they had been hit. The trick worked and the tank moved along. He says many men cheated on their wives while in the service and many others received “Dear John'' letters [Annotator's Note: a Dear John letter is a letter from a female to a male serviceman serving overseas breaking off a romantic engagement]. The only letter he received in combat was one from his mother who complained to him about the rationing she had to endure. Hanson alludes to a bad family life here. He turned down unemployment benefits after the war and found work as a shipping clerk for a Jewish cobbler.

The last thing Kenneth J. Hanson [Annotator’s Note: serving with the 410th Infantry Regiment, 103rd Infantry Division] recalls from combat was a big push towards the enemy. All hell was breaking loose, and he witnessed a man in front of him take a direct artillery hit and disappear. Hanson remembers nothing else until he woke up in a doctor’s office far from the front. Suffering from combat fatigue [Annotator's Note: post traumatic stress disorder; a mental health condition triggered by a terrifying event either experienced or witnessed], he was declared unfit for combat and assigned to a quartermaster outfit at a warehouse in Manheim, Germany where he saw the waste of war. He remained with this outfit for at least six months, and was there when the atomic bombs were dropped in Japan [Annotator's Note: nuclear weapons dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan, 6 and 9 August 1945]. He was then sent to Le Havre [Annotator’s Note: Le Havre, France] to await a ship back to the United States. He developed a long-lasting disdain for the American Red Cross [Annotator's Note: Red Cross, an international non-profit humanitarian organization] while there when they tried to charge him 15 cents for a cookie and a cup of coffee. He was discharged in New Jersey and took a train back to Minneapolis [Annotator’s Note: Minneapolis, Minnesota]. He did not struggle readjusting to civilian life. He was so happy to be alive and was “gung-ho all the way.” He eventually went to college on the G.I. bill [Annotator's Note: the G.I. Bill, or Servicemen's Readjustment Act of 1944, was enacted by the United States Congress to aid United States veterans of World War 2 in transitioning back to civilian life and included financial aid for education, mortgages, business starts and unemployment] and got a career in radio.

Kenneth J. Hanson's most memorable experience of World War 2 was when he invited a battered German soldier into his foxhole. He chose to fight in the war because he had to. There was no choice. His experience in war gave him purpose and a sense of responsibility. He was able to expand his mind and find a career in radio. His service is extremely important to him. He believes that America received more freedom and became the world’s leader. However, he fears for the country today because communism is creeping into the nation. The government is rotten and anti-American. Hanson believes there should be institutions like the National WWII Museum [Annotator's Note: The National WWII Museum in New Orleans, Louisiana], and that we should continue to teach World War 2 to future generations because we must reflect on our past to have a future.