The people of Hawaii tend to give the U.S. military the benefit of the doubt. Defense spending is critical to the state’s economy, military personnel and families are part of the fabric of the community, we depend upon and appreciate the work done to keep the Pacific Rim safe.

This attitude of respect has shattered, however, over a single issue — Red Hill. Specifically, the Navy’s apparent resistance to what seems the most logical and safest approach to protecting a principal Oahu water supply: shutting down the aging underground fuel tanks that sit just 100 feet above a crucial, precious aquifer.

The danger surfaced in 2014, when 27,000 gallons of fuel spilled from one of the tanks, yet remained largely a matter of warnings from the city’s Board of Water Supply versus repeated assurances from the Navy that the system had been made safe and secure. But since last November, when fuel contamination reached the water supply of 93,000 residents of military housing, the threat has crystalized.

Now it’s a human story, one of sickness brought on by fouled drinking water and families forced from their homes. The civilian population has come around to the very rational fear that this taint could easily infect the larger public water supply.

The Honolulu Star-Advertiser’s Hawaii Poll, conducted last month, showed 80% support for permanently shutting down the underground tank farm. That’s a significant number in polling terms — 80% in favor of one position — and the Navy would be wise to take heed.

In officialdom, words that once might have been couched in polite and politic language are much more pointed these days. “We gave the Navy chances over the years and they blew it,” House Speaker Scott Saiki said Monday in a meeting with the Star-Advertiser’s editorial board.

Now we’ve got real money in the mix, too — $100 million added to Congressional appropriations bills on both the U.S. House and Senate sides, to fund defueling of the Red Hill tanks. The House version, approved Tuesday, adds $250 million to address the current water contamination and directs $53 million in existing funding specifically to Red Hill. The funding is attached to federal spending legislation that must pass to avoid a government shutdown.

As significant as the millions is the legislation’s intent. U.S. Sen. Brian Schatz says the Senate bill establishes Congress’ position that the Navy must follow the state’s emergency order to defuel, which was issued in December.

The Navy, meanwhile, is working its darnedest, it seems, to clean up water already contaminated — but still can’t get the affected residents back into their homes. This in itself speaks volumes about the scope of the problem and potential danger.

Sadly, the Navy is also working its darnedest to fend off the state’s authority to tell it what to do. In complaints filed last week in state and federal courts, the Navy argues that state emergency powers can’t be extended to mandate closure of the entire system.

State health officials counter that the very existence of the World War II-era facility, the site of dozens of leaks over decades, is a threat on a level that justifies the use of emergency powers. This argument flatly trumps the Navy’s, especially given that agency’s continual lack of transparency.

The military couched its intransigence in conciliatory words from Kathleen Hicks, U.S. deputy defense secretary, who basically said the Navy is sincerely working in the interests of public health, the environment and national security, it just needs the time to do the job right.

Well, going to court is an action that speaks louder than such obliging words, another blow to public perception and trust.

We are not provincial worrywarts who just saw a ghost. We are not naive about how complicated or costly the tasks of defueling and shutdown will be. We just want the Navy to get on with it, and the aggro move of a court challenge is not the way to do it.