The former cotton mill town of Fries rests upon the banks of the New River in southwest Virginia. In this collection of short stories, the author calls upon his childhood reflections of the 60's to weave Christmas stories that are sure to make you laugh, make you cry, or just make you relive your own special memories of the wonderful season.
Silent Night in the Ardennes It was December 24th, 1944 and “colder than a well driller’s ass”, as Frankie’s Uncle Garn used to enjoy saying, mostly because it got such a rise out of Frankie’s mom. He dug wells, so I reckon he would know. The star-spangled night could have been like any of the others back in Fries when as a young boy, Frankie would lay in his yard at night and gaze into the heavens. The difference was the 20-year old was not in his southwest Virginia cotton mill hometown on the New River. Instead, he was half-a-world away. Instead of lying in a pastoral carpet of clover and Kentucky blue grass, he was sitting, teeth chattering, in a muddy trench with 300 other GI’s. They had shared this hell-hole for the last 96 hours, dugged-in, prepared for an attack that could come