To his squad's younger members, Cpl. Don Hinkle was known as "Pops." After all, at 28, he was about 10 years older than most of his fellow Marines.But when the 36 days of fighting on Iwo Jima ended, the South Dakota native felt much older than 28, especially as he considered the casualty list of 5,823 Americans who died on the island's black sands.
As the 70th anniversary of Iwo Jima approaches in 2015, Hinkle, 98, has been recognized as the oldest living survivor of the battle that also claimed about 22,000 Japanese. He recently participated in a Marine Corps reunion, where he wore his old uniform and danced once again with his wife of 70 years.
The Hinkles live in Bonita, Calif., but their roots are deep in South Dakota. Don Hinkle was born in Brookings and raised near Highmore. His wife, LaRayne, considers Onida home. Her brother, Howard Brown, farms there, while Don Hinkle's nephew, Harold, remains on the Highmore farm.
Her father's stories about his experiences as a Marine paratrooper in the South Pacific have slowed in recent years, says the Hinkles' daughter, Patricia Gailband. She was about a year old when her father first met his oldest child. Alarmed by the stranger, she protectively tried to stand between her mother and him.
His experiences haven't been lost, however. His youngest daughter, who retired from Army service, took an oral history that was transcribed into writing.
Today, Hinkle says of his 36 days on Iwo Jima, "I didn't have much fun there that I remember." (The fun he does remember came on trips to New Zealand, where girls were attracted to the young man in paratrooper boots.)
For years, he carried a scar on his right thigh, etched into the skin by a sniper's bullet that proved fatal to a first lieutenant. According to a 2006 story in the San Diego Union-Tribune, Hinkle had tried to warn the officer that hidden Japanese assassins would consider him a desirable target.
That wound entitled Hinkle to a Purple Heart. He refused to apply for it, however, because he didn't want his pregnant wife to learn about his injury and worry.
Iwo Jima wasn't Hinkle's only battle. The list includes Choiseul Island, where Marines were rescued by a PT boat, and the land battle at Vella Lavella. At Choiseul, he served directly under Charles Krulak, later Marine Corps commander. The Marines had been put on the island as bait to draw Japanese attention from other battle sites, youngest son Jauhn Hinkle says.
When the Japanese discovered the Marines weren't part of an entire division, it was time to retreat, and the men raced to board PT boats. Don Hinkle headed for one. When a coxswain told him it was too full, a young captain with a Boston accent intervened. He reprimanded the coxswain, then according to family lore, told Don Hinkle, "You better get your arse on her now, leatherneck, or you'll be fighting the Japs alone in about 15 minutes."
The captain's name: John F. Kennedy, commanding the PT-59.
Iwo Jima remains the best-known conflict of those that Hinkle faced. A photograph of the flag raising remains an iconic image of the war.
"He was there when they raised the flag at Iwo Jima," Gailband says. "The guy who took the picture gave him an original photograph, but he doesn't know what happened to it."
His father had been assigned to H company because of previous experience as a scout, or a messenger between officers, when radio contact was unauthorized or dangerous. Hinkle was standing outside a tent when wallet-sized prints were distributed and a young photographer was autographing them. He took one, although photographer Joe Rosenthal was unknown to him.
Hinkle does remember his thoughts when he saw the flag being raised over the island after more than a month of fighting: "I thought I was going to go home," he says. "I thought everything was over. But it wasn't quite over yet."
In fact, Hinkle's service wouldn't end until 1946 because he had enlisted for longer than the war's duration, he was that committed. It was typical of a youngster who had started at Highmore High School but left when his family needed help during the Depression. He worked with the Civilian Conservation Corps, a public work relief program, then returned to raise sheep with his family.
After the Japanese bombing of Pearl Harbor, Hinkle traveled to Pierre to enlist for a four-year tour. He chose the Marines, he says, because he thought that military branch was the best.
After the fighting ended, Hinkle became part of the occupational force in Japan, where he lived with a local family. When his service ended, the Hinkle family returned to South Dakota.
They farmed near Highmore and North Dakota for a time, then ran a small gas station near Wolsey.
A daughter had contracted rheumatic fever and that, along with memories of San Diego's pleasant climate, sent the family back to California in the 1950s. Hinkle worked with the fire department, becoming assistant chief at a helicopter base in Imperial Beach.
Hinkle returned once to Iwo Jima for a reunion, accompanied by the youngest of his six children, Jauhn. His experience as a Marine paratrooper gave him a special distinction; the parachute regiment had grown out of a training school in 1940. It was disbanded in 1944, and Hinkle received a ground troop assignment. That brought him to Iwo Jima.
He passed on his experiences as a paratrooper to his children, and not only in words.
"When my dad would be in charge of us and Mom not there, he would teach us things," Gailband says. "He would roll the piano stool to the top and teach us to parachute. When we jumped off, we had to tuck and roll. We got pretty good at that
