With the benefit of flying military transport, Phil and [his girlfriend] Marilyn met as often as they could. On January 4, 1946, they celebrated his twenty-first birthday during a weeklong visit with his Aunt Leota and Uncle Walter at their Park Avenue brownstone in Manhattan. They returned to New York City for a long weekend in February and took in a Broadway show.[1]

Later that month, Phil began to experience increasing pain in his stump, and his prosthesis became more and more uncomfortable.

The prosthetists worked hard to alter the artificial leg, to no avail. Most of the time, he needed to use crutches, which lowered his spirits.

The doctors finally diagnosed his stump pain as coming from a growth on one of the nerves. He shared this news with his mother via a letter:

Well, Mom, they have made their minds up to do a bit more cutting on me. It shouldn’t keep me in bed much over a week if even that long…. Of course, I will write all about it as soon as I am able. This will set me back a month or so in my walking, but I still think I’ll be out by September. Do hope so anyway.[1]

~~~~~

[1] Larimore, At First Light, 300.

Learn more about my book about my father’s heroics and exploits at Amazon’s First Light page here. You can also read more of my WWII blogs here!

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December 24, 1945