Not once, do I remember feeling that I was a participant in a hopeless cause. I know what I read in the newspapers and magazines after I arrived home, but during the campaign that I was a Marine, with other Marines, and there was no way that the enemy was going to keep us trapped high in those mountains.

Upon reading various accounts of the Chosin campaign, I learned how heroic and miserable the whole thing was, but at the time I only knew that we were engaged in one hell of a fight and that the First Marine Division would not be licked.

Today, I think of the Chosin campaign whenever I am outdoors in a St. Louis blizzard and hear people complaining about how cold it is. I chuckle to myself and think: "Mister, you should have been at the 'Reservoir' in 1950 if you think this is cold."

Yes, I grant you .. the fighting was terrible, there were countless acts of individual heroism and sacrifice and the comradeship of all those who were there will always remain, but I firmly believe .. the first thought that crosses any of the "Chosin Few" when they think about the campaign is how damn cold it was!