Time has stood still for the old clock maker.” Bruce W. Hutchinson age 95, of Salida, passed away on Tuesday April 21, 2020 at his home in Salida. Mr. Hutchinson was born February 17, 1925in Rochester, NY to Roy C. and Lois M. (Pine) Hutchinson. Mr. Hutchinson graduated East High School in Rochester, NY, June of 1942. He was drafted into the Army in March of 1943. He was sent to the South Pacific in October of 1943. Mr. Hutchinson was assigned to the 37th Division Infantry in the Solomon Islands. He then was sent to the Philippines until January of 1945. After contracting Dengue Fever and spending 9 months in the hospital, he was Medically Discharged November of 1945. Mr. Hutchinson was a member of the First Presbyterian Church and the Masonic Lodge #57 in Salida. He enjoyed square dancing and playing cards. He loved visits with his friends and always made sure they brought their clocks so he could fix them. Many people in Salida and the surrounding areas would bring their antique clocks to Mr. Hutchinson so that he could fix them. A memorial service will take place at a later date. Friends who desire may make memorial contributions to Heart of The Rockies Home Health and Hospice through Lewis and Glenn Funeral Home. On line condolences may be sent to lewisandglenn.com. Arrangements are with Lewis and Glenn Funeral Home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pfc. Bruce Hutchinson, Salida, registered for the U.S. Army on the day he turned 18 – Feb. 17, 1943.
“I was living in Rochester, N.Y., at that time. I was born there,” Hutchinson said.
It was wartime when he signed up – World War II – and on April 6 he was on a train headed to a receiving center at Fort Niagara.
“I’d like to have frozen to death with the mist from the falls,” he laughed. “We were issued our uniforms and then got on the Canadian Pacific headed for Fort Leonard Wood, Mo.”
He was training for infantry. One night at chow, it was announced that guys were needed to go to the Pacific.
“I was tired of training and I volunteered,” he said. “I went to Camp Letterman on the West Coast and got shots for yellow fever and God knows what all and from there was shipped to New Caledonia, the replacement center and then on to Guadalcanal.”
Guadalcanal was the Japanese headquarters and the United States had to take it out.
“We lost thousands there, mostly Marines,” Hutchinson said.
He knew they were making the next landing and wanted to hit the beach clean. He had just lathered up and made one stroke with his razor when an air raid started.
“I made a run for it,” he said. “I heard a Jap plane coming in. I dove and landed on my belly under an airplane pusher. I heard the bomb bay door open. They just missed all four LST’s (landing ship, tank). I was on one of them.”
Next morning they saw smoke off Bougainville and learned there were two volcanos there. One was active. That was where they were going. They landed on Nov. 1, 1943.
They needed to secure Bougainville to build three airfields. It was all jungle. They went in, on the worst side of the island, which they were told was the only way to enter. They were there 13 months, before being relieved by Australian 8th Infantry.
Lae, New Guinea, was another beachhead. From there they formed a convoy to go on to Luzon in the Philippines.
“We landed on Luzon on Jan. 6, 1945,” he said. “We ran into some action going through the Straits of Mindanao,” he said. “I was lying on the deck and saw a Japanese kamikaze coming down. It hit a converted aircraft carrier alongside our ship but everyone got off. Another kamikaze hit another carrier. Everyone got out and only two had burns. That was a miracle.”
Twenty-seven hours later they hit a big beachhead near Linggin Gulf with all five divisions.
“The war was really on then,” he said.
The soldiers fought their way down 138 miles almost all on foot for a push on Manilla.
“We had to wait for a pontoon bridge to go up because the Japs had blown up the bridge,” he said. “A guy came by and he said there was a brewery full of cold beer nearby. He filled our water cans with beer and we had cold beer while we waited.”
On Feb. 3, 1945, they circled outside Manila and started the push. His outfit alone, the 37th Division, suffered 1,459 casualties.
“I was 19 at the time, ” he recalled. “I met the mayor of Manila, Arsi Lacson, and we struck up a friendship. He invited me to his home and said he wanted to see me in civilian clothes. He had servants and I got to take a shower and he gave me some beautiful civilian clothes. I was looking in a mirror, thinking I looked pretty good when the artillery hit and I had to get out of those clothes and into uniform again. It was about a month before we secured the city.”
They withdrew to San Juan Del Monte, where there were lots of casinos and wealth, and were issued jungle hammocks equipped with netting and zippers to keep out the mosquitoes, but the hammocks weren’t enough. He got so sick he couldn’t walk and his buddies took him to the medics, where it was determined he had a fever of undetermined origin. Later it was identified as dengue fever.
He remembers being packed in ice and being in the hospital for a long time, sleeping 20 hours a day with more than 30 men in a ward. He was transferred to a couple more hospitals before heading back to the United States.
“I remember the morning I was carried out to the evacuating ship,” he said. “Someone came on board and announced that President Roosevelt had died. It was May 8, 1945 – a day I’ll never forget.”
After 15 days of sailing, someone announced that the Golden Gate Bridge was in sight.
“I slid off the bed in my pajamas and stood up in the mist and the rain and I knew I was home,” he said. “San Francisco.”
From there it was on to Letterman General Hospital and then to a hospital near Santa Fe, N.M. He was there eight months.
He was discharged on Dec. 2, 1945 – a happy day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pfc. Bruce Hutchinson, Salida, registered for the U.S. Army on the day he turned 18 – Feb. 17, 1943.
“I was living in Rochester, N.Y., at that time. I was born there,” Hutchinson said.
It was wartime when he signed up – World War II – and on April 6 he was on a train headed to a receiving center at Fort Niagara.
“I’d like to have frozen to death with the mist from the falls,” he laughed. “We were issued our uniforms and then got on the Canadian Pacific headed for Fort Leonard Wood, Mo.”
He was training for infantry. One night at chow, it was announced that guys were needed to go to the Pacific.
“I was tired of training and I volunteered,” he said. “I went to Camp Letterman on the West Coast and got shots for yellow fever and God knows what all and from there was shipped to New Caledonia, the replacement center and then on to Guadalcanal.”
Guadalcanal was the Japanese headquarters and the United States had to take it out.
“We lost thousands there, mostly Marines,” Hutchinson said.
He knew they were making the next landing and wanted to hit the beach clean. He had just lathered up and made one stroke with his razor when an air raid started.
“I made a run for it,” he said. “I heard a Jap plane coming in. I dove and landed on my belly under an airplane pusher. I heard the bomb bay door open. They just missed all four LST’s (landing ship, tank). I was on one of them.”
Next morning they saw smoke off Bougainville and learned there were two volcanos there. One was active. That was where they were going. They landed on Nov. 1, 1943.
They needed to secure Bougainville to build three airfields. It was all jungle. They went in, on the worst side of the island, which they were told was the only way to enter. They were there 13 months, before being relieved by Australian 8th Infantry.
Lae, New Guinea, was another beachhead. From there they formed a convoy to go on to Luzon in the Philippines.
“We landed on Luzon on Jan. 6, 1945,” he said. “We ran into some action going through the Straits of Mindanao,” he said. “I was lying on the deck and saw a Japanese kamikaze coming down. It hit a converted aircraft carrier alongside our ship but everyone got off. Another kamikaze hit another carrier. Everyone got out and only two had burns. That was a miracle.”
Twenty-seven hours later they hit a big beachhead near Linggin Gulf with all five divisions.
“The war was really on then,” he said.
The soldiers fought their way down 138 miles almost all on foot for a push on Manilla.
“We had to wait for a pontoon bridge to go up because the Japs had blown up the bridge,” he said. “A guy came by and he said there was a brewery full of cold beer nearby. He filled our water cans with beer and we had cold beer while we waited.”
On Feb. 3, 1945, they circled outside Manila and started the push. His outfit alone, the 37th Division, suffered 1,459 casualties.
“I was 19 at the time, ” he recalled. “I met the mayor of Manila, Arsi Lacson, and we struck up a friendship. He invited me to his home and said he wanted to see me in civilian clothes. He had servants and I got to take a shower and he gave me some beautiful civilian clothes. I was looking in a mirror, thinking I looked pretty good when the artillery hit and I had to get out of those clothes and into uniform again. It was about a month before we secured the city.”
They withdrew to San Juan Del Monte, where there were lots of casinos and wealth, and were issued jungle hammocks equipped with netting and zippers to keep out the mosquitoes, but the hammocks weren’t enough. He got so sick he couldn’t walk and his buddies took him to the medics, where it was determined he had a fever of undetermined origin. Later it was identified as dengue fever.
He remembers being packed in ice and being in the hospital for a long time, sleeping 20 hours a day with more than 30 men in a ward. He was transferred to a couple more hospitals before heading back to the United States.
“I remember the morning I was carried out to the evacuating ship,” he said. “Someone came on board and announced that President Roosevelt had died. It was May 8, 1945 – a day I’ll never forget.”
After 15 days of sailing, someone announced that the Golden Gate Bridge was in sight.
“I slid off the bed in my pajamas and stood up in the mist and the rain and I knew I was home,” he said. “San Francisco.”
From there it was on to Letterman General Hospital and then to a hospital near Santa Fe, N.M. He was there eight months.
He was discharged on Dec. 2, 1945 – a happy day.
Time has stood still for the old clock maker.” Bruce W. Hutchinson age 95, of Salida, passed away on Tuesday April 21, 2020 at his home in Salida. Mr. Hutchinson was born February 17, 1925in Rochester, NY to Roy C. and Lois M. (Pine) Hutchinson. Mr. Hutchinson graduated East High School in Rochester, NY, June of 1942. He was drafted into the Army in March of 1943. He was sent to the South Pacific in October of 1943. Mr. Hutchinson was assigned to the 37th Division Infantry in the Solomon Islands. He then was sent to the Philippines until January of 1945. After contracting Dengue Fever and spending 9 months in the hospital, he was Medically Discharged November of 1945. Mr. Hutchinson was a member of the First Presbyterian Church and the Masonic Lodge #57 in Salida. He enjoyed square dancing and playing cards. He loved visits with his friends and always made sure they brought their clocks so he could fix them. Many people in Salida and the surrounding areas would bring their antique clocks to Mr. Hutchinson so that he could fix them. A memorial service will take place at a later date. Friends who desire may make memorial contributions to Heart of The Rockies Home Health and Hospice through Lewis and Glenn Funeral Home. On line condolences may be sent to lewisandglenn.com. Arrangements are with Lewis and Glenn Funeral Home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pfc. Bruce Hutchinson, Salida, registered for the U.S. Army on the day he turned 18 – Feb. 17, 1943.
“I was living in Rochester, N.Y., at that time. I was born there,” Hutchinson said.
It was wartime when he signed up – World War II – and on April 6 he was on a train headed to a receiving center at Fort Niagara.
“I’d like to have frozen to death with the mist from the falls,” he laughed. “We were issued our uniforms and then got on the Canadian Pacific headed for Fort Leonard Wood, Mo.”
He was training for infantry. One night at chow, it was announced that guys were needed to go to the Pacific.
“I was tired of training and I volunteered,” he said. “I went to Camp Letterman on the West Coast and got shots for yellow fever and God knows what all and from there was shipped to New Caledonia, the replacement center and then on to Guadalcanal.”
Guadalcanal was the Japanese headquarters and the United States had to take it out.
“We lost thousands there, mostly Marines,” Hutchinson said.
He knew they were making the next landing and wanted to hit the beach clean. He had just lathered up and made one stroke with his razor when an air raid started.
“I made a run for it,” he said. “I heard a Jap plane coming in. I dove and landed on my belly under an airplane pusher. I heard the bomb bay door open. They just missed all four LST’s (landing ship, tank). I was on one of them.”
Next morning they saw smoke off Bougainville and learned there were two volcanos there. One was active. That was where they were going. They landed on Nov. 1, 1943.
They needed to secure Bougainville to build three airfields. It was all jungle. They went in, on the worst side of the island, which they were told was the only way to enter. They were there 13 months, before being relieved by Australian 8th Infantry.
Lae, New Guinea, was another beachhead. From there they formed a convoy to go on to Luzon in the Philippines.
“We landed on Luzon on Jan. 6, 1945,” he said. “We ran into some action going through the Straits of Mindanao,” he said. “I was lying on the deck and saw a Japanese kamikaze coming down. It hit a converted aircraft carrier alongside our ship but everyone got off. Another kamikaze hit another carrier. Everyone got out and only two had burns. That was a miracle.”
Twenty-seven hours later they hit a big beachhead near Linggin Gulf with all five divisions.
“The war was really on then,” he said.
The soldiers fought their way down 138 miles almost all on foot for a push on Manilla.
“We had to wait for a pontoon bridge to go up because the Japs had blown up the bridge,” he said. “A guy came by and he said there was a brewery full of cold beer nearby. He filled our water cans with beer and we had cold beer while we waited.”
On Feb. 3, 1945, they circled outside Manila and started the push. His outfit alone, the 37th Division, suffered 1,459 casualties.
“I was 19 at the time, ” he recalled. “I met the mayor of Manila, Arsi Lacson, and we struck up a friendship. He invited me to his home and said he wanted to see me in civilian clothes. He had servants and I got to take a shower and he gave me some beautiful civilian clothes. I was looking in a mirror, thinking I looked pretty good when the artillery hit and I had to get out of those clothes and into uniform again. It was about a month before we secured the city.”
They withdrew to San Juan Del Monte, where there were lots of casinos and wealth, and were issued jungle hammocks equipped with netting and zippers to keep out the mosquitoes, but the hammocks weren’t enough. He got so sick he couldn’t walk and his buddies took him to the medics, where it was determined he had a fever of undetermined origin. Later it was identified as dengue fever.
He remembers being packed in ice and being in the hospital for a long time, sleeping 20 hours a day with more than 30 men in a ward. He was transferred to a couple more hospitals before heading back to the United States.
“I remember the morning I was carried out to the evacuating ship,” he said. “Someone came on board and announced that President Roosevelt had died. It was May 8, 1945 – a day I’ll never forget.”
After 15 days of sailing, someone announced that the Golden Gate Bridge was in sight.
“I slid off the bed in my pajamas and stood up in the mist and the rain and I knew I was home,” he said. “San Francisco.”
From there it was on to Letterman General Hospital and then to a hospital near Santa Fe, N.M. He was there eight months.
He was discharged on Dec. 2, 1945 – a happy day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pfc. Bruce Hutchinson, Salida, registered for the U.S. Army on the day he turned 18 – Feb. 17, 1943.
“I was living in Rochester, N.Y., at that time. I was born there,” Hutchinson said.
It was wartime when he signed up – World War II – and on April 6 he was on a train headed to a receiving center at Fort Niagara.
“I’d like to have frozen to death with the mist from the falls,” he laughed. “We were issued our uniforms and then got on the Canadian Pacific headed for Fort Leonard Wood, Mo.”
He was training for infantry. One night at chow, it was announced that guys were needed to go to the Pacific.
“I was tired of training and I volunteered,” he said. “I went to Camp Letterman on the West Coast and got shots for yellow fever and God knows what all and from there was shipped to New Caledonia, the replacement center and then on to Guadalcanal.”
Guadalcanal was the Japanese headquarters and the United States had to take it out.
“We lost thousands there, mostly Marines,” Hutchinson said.
He knew they were making the next landing and wanted to hit the beach clean. He had just lathered up and made one stroke with his razor when an air raid started.
“I made a run for it,” he said. “I heard a Jap plane coming in. I dove and landed on my belly under an airplane pusher. I heard the bomb bay door open. They just missed all four LST’s (landing ship, tank). I was on one of them.”
Next morning they saw smoke off Bougainville and learned there were two volcanos there. One was active. That was where they were going. They landed on Nov. 1, 1943.
They needed to secure Bougainville to build three airfields. It was all jungle. They went in, on the worst side of the island, which they were told was the only way to enter. They were there 13 months, before being relieved by Australian 8th Infantry.
Lae, New Guinea, was another beachhead. From there they formed a convoy to go on to Luzon in the Philippines.
“We landed on Luzon on Jan. 6, 1945,” he said. “We ran into some action going through the Straits of Mindanao,” he said. “I was lying on the deck and saw a Japanese kamikaze coming down. It hit a converted aircraft carrier alongside our ship but everyone got off. Another kamikaze hit another carrier. Everyone got out and only two had burns. That was a miracle.”
Twenty-seven hours later they hit a big beachhead near Linggin Gulf with all five divisions.
“The war was really on then,” he said.
The soldiers fought their way down 138 miles almost all on foot for a push on Manilla.
“We had to wait for a pontoon bridge to go up because the Japs had blown up the bridge,” he said. “A guy came by and he said there was a brewery full of cold beer nearby. He filled our water cans with beer and we had cold beer while we waited.”
On Feb. 3, 1945, they circled outside Manila and started the push. His outfit alone, the 37th Division, suffered 1,459 casualties.
“I was 19 at the time, ” he recalled. “I met the mayor of Manila, Arsi Lacson, and we struck up a friendship. He invited me to his home and said he wanted to see me in civilian clothes. He had servants and I got to take a shower and he gave me some beautiful civilian clothes. I was looking in a mirror, thinking I looked pretty good when the artillery hit and I had to get out of those clothes and into uniform again. It was about a month before we secured the city.”
They withdrew to San Juan Del Monte, where there were lots of casinos and wealth, and were issued jungle hammocks equipped with netting and zippers to keep out the mosquitoes, but the hammocks weren’t enough. He got so sick he couldn’t walk and his buddies took him to the medics, where it was determined he had a fever of undetermined origin. Later it was identified as dengue fever.
He remembers being packed in ice and being in the hospital for a long time, sleeping 20 hours a day with more than 30 men in a ward. He was transferred to a couple more hospitals before heading back to the United States.
“I remember the morning I was carried out to the evacuating ship,” he said. “Someone came on board and announced that President Roosevelt had died. It was May 8, 1945 – a day I’ll never forget.”
After 15 days of sailing, someone announced that the Golden Gate Bridge was in sight.
“I slid off the bed in my pajamas and stood up in the mist and the rain and I knew I was home,” he said. “San Francisco.”
From there it was on to Letterman General Hospital and then to a hospital near Santa Fe, N.M. He was there eight months.
He was discharged on Dec. 2, 1945 – a happy day.
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