Gunfire signals a soldier is coming home: Brad Johnson
The seven soldiers fired their rifles simultaneously, the smoking brass casings ejecting into the crystalline snow as the gun shots shattered the morning.
Again, they fired, and again as the wind-driven snow raced through the pine trees as windchills reached 15 below zero. Then silence.
It was done. The shivering men, frozen hands gripping their rifles, waited for a command.
Among them was Battle of the Bulge survivor, 99th Infantry Division Staff Sgt. Irving A. Hinderaker, who died at 101 on Jan. 16, 2023, exactly 78 years after the famous battle ended. He was laid to rest on Jan. 25 in a snow framed frozen grave in Watertown’s Mount Hope Cemetery in conditions similar to those in the momentous battle.
His obituary, simply said, “Irving left college to enlist in the U.S. Army in 1943. He served in Europe following D-Day and narrowly escaped death in the Battle of the Bulge.”
Like most World War II veterans, “He never talked about it, until later in life,” his son James Hinderaker said.
Save for a fateful decision as they scrambled to escape the German advance Irv may not have lived to become an important member of The Greatest Generation. His four boys, James, John, Eric and Paul might never have been born and he might not be one of South Dakota’s more notable attorneys and a patriarch of Watertown.
Early on Dec. 16, 1945, more than 200,000 German troops and nearly 1,000 tanks launched Adolf Hitler’s last hurrah.
Irv was beginning a breakfast of a pancakes topped with a fresh egg, the first egg he had eaten in a long time.
Suddenly, someone burst into the room yelling that the Germans had broken the lines and to run for it. But first, Irv had to eat that delicious egg.
Attached to Headquarters Company, he scrambled to collect documents and climbed in a vehicle with a colonel. They reached a fork in the road, not knowing where the Germans might be. To the left was Malmedy, Belgium. They drove right.
Towards Malmedy, the Germans lay in wait. About 120 U.S. soldiers were captured, assembled in a farm field and massacred.
Later in the war, the 99th Infantry liberated three labor camps and one concentration camp. During its service, 1,168 of its men were killed and 6,553 wounded.
Like so many returning veterans, Irv quickly put the war behind him, but that experience shaped his life. He finished his undergraduate degree at Augustana University and used the GI Bill to graduate from the University of South Dakota law school. His list of achievements and community service have filled a book.
His life revolved around three words, Pastor Tom Christensen said during his eulogy – patriotism, education and church.
Having lived through the Great Depression and World War II, church was foremost.
He was a founding member of Lutheran Church of Our Redeemer (LCOOR), its first council president.
“Irv was all about hospitality,” said current LCOOR Pastor Dave Nerdig. “He knew how to make you feel welcome and how to make you feel respected.”
His son Paul Hinderaker, also a long-time Watertown attorney, said if someone new showed up at church, Irv and his wife Eula would seek them out before they left to make them feel at home.
It was a different time.
“There are a lot of places you don’t feel welcome today,” Nerdig said. “There are people who are experts at making you not feel welcome.”
Education was important as well, and it helped him survive World War II. His typing skills got him attached to Headquarters Company, as opposed to being in a frozen fox hole.
He was a model to his family and community, demonstrating the importance of reading and keeping up on current events. “Experience is the best teacher” was a household phrase.
In the end, there was patriotism. His hearse featured a round U.S. Army placard. Along the road to the cemetery, an unknown woman stood bundled in a long, white parka. She paused her morning walk and solemnly faced the procession, her hand over her heart.
Brad Johnson is a Watertown businessman and journalist who is active in state and local affairs.
This article originally appeared on Watertown Public Opinion: Gunfire signals a soldier is coming home: Brad Johnson
