Lance Corporal Phillip David Vinnedge
February 22, 1991 – October 13, 2010
Phillip David Vinnedge was born on February 22, 1991, in Spokane, Washington. After his family settled in St. Charles, Missouri, Phillip grew into a young man known for his energy, determination, and willingness to take on whatever challenge stood in front of him.
He loved pushing himself. Wrestling, trap shooting, skydiving, welding — if something required courage or discipline, Phillip leaned into it. While attending Francis Howell Central High School, he also enrolled at Lewis & Clark Technical School, where he excelled in welding and was named Student of the Year. He took pride in mastering difficult skills and doing things the right way.
Just as strong as his drive was his humor.
Phillip had a natural ability to read people. Friends would later say that if they were having a rough day, he somehow knew. A perfectly timed joke in the hallway or an exaggerated, self-mocking comment would break the tension and bring a smile. In Boy Scouts, he became the troop’s unofficial “cheermaster,” able to lift the mood of the entire group with nothing more than personality and enthusiasm. He didn’t mind being a little over-the-top — proudly misspelling “smart” for effect or fully committing to a bit — because he understood that laughter connects people.
That playful spirit showed up in unexpected places. Phillip worked seasonal roles at the local mall as Santa’s Elf and even the Easter Bunny. He loved seeing children light up and watching adults relax for a moment. Making people smile wasn’t beneath him — it mattered to him.
Beneath the humor, however, was steady resolve.
After the attacks of September 11, 2001, Phillip quietly decided he would one day serve his country. By age 17, that commitment was already in motion. While still in high school, he began training with Marine Corps recruiters as a Poolee, preparing himself physically and mentally for what lay ahead. That same year, he signed an early deferred enlistment contract, formalizing a decision he had carried for years.
This was not impulsive. It was intentional.
Shortly after graduating in 2009, Phillip left for Marine Corps recruit training. He chose the infantry — the most demanding path — because he believed service should be direct and meaningful. He earned the title Marine and was assigned to 3rd Battalion, 5th Marines, 1st Marine Division — the storied “Dark Horse” Battalion.
In September 2010, he deployed to Helmand Province, Afghanistan, in support of Operation Enduring Freedom.
On October 13, 2010, during combat operations, Phillip was killed in action when an improvised explosive device struck his vehicle. He was 19 years old.
His life was brief, but it was not small.
Phillip was a son who loved deeply, a brother who competed fiercely, and a friend who showed up — especially when someone needed encouragement. In his personal life, he cared deeply for his girlfriend and her young daughter, embracing the responsibility of being someone they could depend on.
He embraced risk, but he also embraced responsibility. He could be serious when the moment required strength, and he could be intentionally ridiculous when someone needed joy.
His sacrifice is part of his legacy. But so are the hallway jokes, the Scout camp energy, the welding sparks, the Santa’s Elf costume, the steady devotion he showed to the people he loved, and the determination of a 17-year-old who began preparing early to serve something greater than himself.
Phillip lived with intention.
He served with conviction.
He loved with his whole heart.
And he is remembered not only for how he died — but for how fully he lived.
