Phil

Today is December 1, 1950. My birthday. I am now twenty-four years old. There’s been difficulty getting mail in what with the cold. Thirty below some nights, or so they say. Haven’t heard from Genevieve in weeks. No more, “Dearest Phil,” “My Love Phil,” “Sweetest Phil.” Nothing but the blinding cold here in this godforsaken place, this Chosin Reservoir. They call us The Chosin Few. … Continue reading Phil