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Boot Camp - Marine Recruit Depot This story begins at the start of my junior year in high school. By that time, I think my mother was planning to sell our farm, but I believe that my parents couldn’t agree on an exit strategy. I think Dad wanted to keep the farm because I was there to help while Mom wanted to sell the place. I believe their struggle to arrive at an exit strategy was the basis for all the acrimony between Mom and me. Of course, I had no knowledge of this. My birth order positioned me at the exact point to take over my parents’ farm. I had taken on a lot of the farming responsibilities by the end of my senior year. Basically, I was handling all the field work, as well as some of the herd management. Dad was 58 years old, going on 59. Mom was 50. I was ready to follow in my parents’ footsteps, just as they had followed in their parents’. I had four to six years to learn more about farming, do a little traveling, find a wife and settle into a life of farming. Four to six years put me at 22 to 24 years old, and it was quite normal in our community to marry out of high school and have kids. It was at the beginning of my junior year that I started to think about what I'd do after I graduated. Up to that point, I had never given any thought to what I’d do after high school. No one talked to me about what to do. I had no guidance or information other than what my older brothers and sisters did when they left home. There was no talk in high school about going to college or vocational school or job opportunities or anything. Mom and Dad definitely said nothing. In short, there was no advice at all. I knew a little about vocational schools because two of my brothers went to one. They learned to make things, but technical schools did not grab my attention. I was never good at making anything. I knew virtually nothing of colleges although one of my sisters went to a college, but I didn't know what that meant. Mom proclaimed angrily that universities were full of communists, and they were putting bad ideas into children's heads. I no longer recall her exact words, but they were not flattering. I had no idea what a communist was, but I thought it might not be a good place to go because of the communists. I used to look at all the neat places in the travel brochures and magazines that were around home. I don't know where they came from, but their content ignited my imagination. I really wanted to see those places. Then, when I was sixteen, I took a trip to my sister’s place in Miami Florida by Greyhound and rode with her while she drove to San Antonio Texas to join the Air Force. While on that trip, I saw areas of the Deep South that I could not believe. People were so poor. They lived in shacks that weren’t much bigger than our chicken coop. Until that trip, I had never met anyone who wasn’t white. My sister stayed in San Antonio, and I took a Greyhound back home from Texas. I enjoyed the trip immensely. It was exciting. I can say with certainty that that trip was a seminal event that changed the course of my life, even if I did not know it at the time. What I experienced on that trip turned a desire to travel into a passion. It was obvious to me by the beginning of my senior year that I would not stay on the farm. I struggled to get a car, and it was clear that my parents would not pay any wages for work I did on the farm after I graduated. They needed my help but never asked me to stay. Mom made a point of telling me that I wasn’t welcome. Dad never said anything. Mom was intent on fighting with me over everything. She wanted to control my life, including what I thought. She wanted to control various farming activities including how I did my farm work. That was the basis for much of the fighting that went on in the years leading up to my high school graduation. 
1964 - Just Home From School On the other hand, I liked farming. I started working on our farm before I started school, so 6-7 years old. The work was light, so sweeping walks, putting stray in the gutters, helping Dad fill grain sacks. My favorite was Dad teaching me to drive tractor while he fixed fence. My job was to drive the tractor straight. Dad put the tractor in gear and start it moving. The tractor idled along pulling the wagon with fence mending material. Dad walked behind the wagon doing his work. There was no danger. The fields were 10-15 acres, and the tractor was moving so slow that Dad could have easily ran to catch the tractor at any time. I liked my job. It was fun driving the tractor. Think about it, I was driving a tractor before I started grade school, so, extending that out, I had ten years of work experience before I joined the Marine Corp. My decision about what to do after high school wasn't about me wanting to leave home. I knew I had to leave, as in—get out! I had opportunities to speak to military recruiters during the Fall of 1974. I understood the military would give me the ability to travel, a place to sleep, food, and some money. I knew a person could travel if they were in the military. Two of my brothers had been, and my sister and another brother were in the military, and they traveled. I had no money and no prospects, except possibly working on someone else's farm. It's extremely important to understand that I never earned any money while at home, so what the military offered was everything and I had nothing. In hindsight, it is interesting that I never considered how much the military would pay. I also never thought about supporting myself, and having a military career never crossed my mind. I had a very significant falling out with Mom one night in the Fall of my senior year. I was in the house after school, but before supper. Mom and I were fighting about something, and I am very sure I had the moral high ground on the subject at issue, so there was no reason for any beating, but Mom was livid and came after me, belt in hand, white with rage. She intended to do some real damage to my person. I am talking about some serious whacking. Mom had me backed into the corner in the kitchen by the lazy-suzanne. I grabbed her arms and took the belt away from her. After I stopped Mom, she cooled down. I left the kitchen amid shouts that I would not be living at home after I graduated, and I did not eat supper that night. I heard the angry shouts regarding not living at home after graduation many times before. What made this incident different was the realization that I was stronger than Mom. I knew I’d never let her touch me again, and that changed everything. I decided to join the Marine Corps and signed my enlistment contract on November 26, 1974, less than a month before I turned eighteen and six months before I graduated from high school. Mom and Dad may have discussed exiting the farm, but I believe I made their decision for them on the day I signed my enlistment papers. I believe Mom knew it as she sat with me while I signed. I believe she knew there was no turning back for her and Dad. I stayed in the inactive reserve until I went on active duty. I was told if I got two other people to join, I would get an extra stripe after boot camp. I realized an extra stripe meant more money, so I talked to two of my friends about joining. I didn't have to convince them to join. They wanted to join. Anyway, I left for the Marine Corps two days after I graduated from high school. My official active-duty date was June 9, 1975. On the day I left, my family was preparing for a large family reunion at our place. Planning for the reunion had been in the works for a long time. Relatives from Holland were coming. On this day, Mom and Dad were very busy. I said my rushed good-byes at the house. One person took me to the Greyhound bus station in my hometown and dropped me off. I waited by myself for the bus to arrive. Once on board, I looked for a seat. All the other riders were in the front half of the bus. The back of the bus was empty. As the bus pulled out, I was looking out the back window thinking it was a huge relief to be leaving home, but I felt very bad leaving Dad and my sisters with all that work. I knew they would not be able to run the farm without my help. I knew how much work my sisters would have to do. I turned back to the front, wiped my eyes, and never looked back. My parents sold our farm about a year later.
Boot Camp I was sent to F Company, Platoon 2062, 2nd Recruit Training Battalion, RTR, Marine Recruit Depot, San Diego California to undergo recruit training. Boot Camp! What can I say, other than I realized I had made a huge mistake. There was nothing about it that advance my life experience in any way, unless one considers being institutionalized as an advancement of one's life experience. I had significant work experience before I joined. I was an expert marksman. I was physically fit. I was exceptionally disciplined. I knew how to fight having been in far too many. I was a person of excellent character. I didn't swear, drink or use drugs. The only benefit in having gone through Marine Corps Boot Camp is to say that I did. To emphasize the "benefit" of being institutionalized, I have three examples: The first is, for whatever reason, I was single-out for service as a house mouse. There were two house mice and the king rat in the drill instructors’ service. Together, we kept the drill instructors' duty hut tidy and their boots shiny. I'll leave it up to your imagination to determine what tidy and shiny meant. Being a house mouse was work in addition to everything else I had to do while going through Boot Camp. And for anyone who thinks that being a house mouse was something positive, well, I won’t clutter your mind with reality. Second, for whatever reason, I was single-out for motivation enhancement. During our normal daily routine, we'd see boots who were filthy standing by the wash racks where we washed our clothes. Our drill instructors always order us not to look at them. We all thought they had done something really awful because they looked really, really terrible. Those boots (and they were always present, but of course different people) looked like they had been dragged through the worst possible "shithole." Boots whispered among themselves, but the ultimate question was: what happened to them? Everyone was scared spitless! We all saw boots who were sent to break rocks, so we knew that bad shit could / would happen to us, but no one knew what happened to those filthy boots. I never heard of anyone who had talked to one of them. Anyway, one day, I was told to shine my boots, put on a new pair of freshly starched trousers, a white tee shirt, and a freshly starched cover. I did. Then, I was directed to join an equally freshly dress group of other boots, and off we marched. When we stopped, we stood at attention in front of a nicely painted, red wood wall. The gate opened an out came a boot running and screaming like a crazy man. He stopped in front of us and continued running in place while screaming as loud as he could. His hands remained held out straight and parallel to the ground at chest height. The fellow continued running in place screaming in that manner until he was ordered to stop. I thought what the H* is that! Clearly the guy was nuts, likely driven nuts. After that, we were marched into the compound, and the gate was closed. The compound was a rectangle with a u-shaped trench about four feet deep and five feet wide. The trench sat in the center two-thirds of the rectangle. It was filled with filthy, soupy, sandy water about three feet deep. There was a really nice-looking round stone well with a red wood roof in the trench, and a nicely painted, red wood bridge that crossed the channel. The sun beat down on the sand in the yard. There was no breeze. We began with calisthenics. Then we filled buckets with sand that was timed. If we didn't fill the bucket fast enough, well, punishment was dished out in an overflowing manner. Finally we were ordered to crawl forward through that trench. The drill instructors yelled at us to move faster in that filthy slurry. They herded us forward like cattle, one over the other. When we got to the well, we went in. When we came out, we were herded under that bridge like stampeding cattle. The bridge’s height was such that only one person could go under without being submerged. If we did not show enough motivation in movement, we were told we'd be back the next day. It was my first experience seeing what men will do to each other in order to survive, or in our case, not to have to come back. I suppose the boot we met at the front gate was the drill instructor’s example of a truly motivated person, or at a minimum, what would happen if we weren’t. It was ugly, very ugly. I don't believe I can use the appropriate words to describe it here. When our motivation session ended, we were marched back to our respective platoons. I had to throw away my pants, underwear, and tee shirt as they never came clean. I could never get the sand out of them. As for me, I had sand coming out of my ears for more than a week. And at the end of that day, I knew why those boots were so filthy. What I could never figure out was why I was sent to motivation. Later, one of my drill instructors (who I met at Camp Horno long after boot camp and while I was driving truck for the grunts) told me that 10% of the recruits in boot camp are sent to motivation. He didn't say why, or why I was sent. Finally, there was mess / scullery duty. That was sorry! I wasn't particularly single out for that assignment, but once there, I was single out to "herd" a number of other boots. In other words, I was responsible for them getting our work done. We were assigned sweeping and mopping duties. Why I was responsible for those rocks is beyond me, but I was. I had to be on site earlier than them so I could get the mops, buckets, brooms, etc. ready for when they arrived. I wasn't required to be there early. I was there early every day because the rocks could not figure out where the mops and brooms were stored, despite putting them away. As for how to use both, I virtually had to place the mops and brooms in their hands every day and then move their hands in order to get the rocks to sweep and mop. The job required a lot of shouting. It was the worst assignment I ever had. Boot Camp lasted from June 9, 1975, to September 3, 1975. After I graduated, I was promoted to Private First Class (E-2) on June 9, 1975, but effective September 3, 1975, in recognition of my exceptional assistance in the field of recruiting. My military pay from June through December 1975 was $3,029. I never had so much money. | |||||
Lawrence Reinhold, Age 18 |
Star News - Medford, Wisconsin
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Pvt. Lawrence Reinhold, Age 18 |
Certificate of Promotion Private First Class |
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| Motor Vehicle Operator Duty Camp Pendleton - Camp Horno After Boot Camp, I was assigned to Motor Transport School, (Class 2-76) B Company, 1st Motors, Camp Horno, 1st Marine Division- Rein, Camp Pendleton California from September 14, 1975, through October 31, 1975. I graduated from Motor Transport School on October 31, 1975, and was assigned to A Company, 1st Motors, Camp Horno, 1st Marine Division- Rein, FMF. My Military Occupational Specialty was 3531, A Tactical Motor Vehicle operator. My military duties included transporting infantry as a tactical vehicle operator at Camp Pendleton California. I learned to drive different tactical vehicles while attending Motor Transport School. Along with learning their characteristics, I also learned to keep the vehicles operating in battlefield conditions. While assigned to A Company, our Company's job was to provide motor transportation for the infantry. I drove truck and provided first echelon maintenance on the truck I drove. I was also licensed to drive various other tactical vehicles, i.e., Gama-goat, Mule & Jeep. I was meritoriously promoted to Lance Corporal November 2, 1975. I wouldn’t say being a truck driver was fun, but I will say that going through Motor Transport School was a four-wheels' dream. It's hard to explain taking a Deuce-and-a-Half up and down steep terrain, especially when that Beast starts to slide sideways down a steep slope. The driver can't jump, but I saw my instructors on their way out. I drove eighteen men up mountain roads so narrow that half of the Deuce's duals were hanging off the road in the air. And when that Beast starts rolling backwards, you don't want to be the truck behind it. In that case, I'd drive my Duce up to the other's back end to stop that duce from rolling backwards. There was a lot of other cool stuff like bouncing a jeep through ravines so deep the a jeep could sit across the bottom of the ravine with its bumpers touching each side without the wheels touching the ground, and then come shooting out the other side, or taking a gama-goat through water, or driving a mule down a slope so steep that you'd need a diaper on. My favorite was firing the Deuce's ring mounted 50-cal. That weapon shook the Deuce terribly, but God! It was fun! Although that all sounds particularly exhilarating, consider that a tactical vehicle operator drives grunts during war. It's not so fun when someone's shooting at you with every kind of weapon, both ariel and from the ground, or encountering roadside bombs, or saboteurs who drop grenades in your truck's fuel tank with the pins pulled and the handles held in place with tape. Essentially, a tactical vehicle operator is a grunt on wheels. Driving truck for the grunts was unremarkable duty. Still, there are several things that stand out in my memory. The first was the amount of drugs in use and how I chose not to be around the Marines. I actively sought out locations on the weekends where few if any Marines haunted. I'd take the Greyhound to seaside towns like Laguna Beach. At the time, El Toro was a functioning Marine Corp air station. I slept there and went roller skating on the weekends in Santa Anna. I met my girlfriend while roller skating and she taught me to drive in California. I had a license. She had a car, but no license. On base, drug use was everywhere and included pretty much every kind. The thing was; when we pulled up to load the grunts, they knew who the druggies were, and they ran to the trucks driven by Marines who they knew didn't use drugs. I was one who didn’t, and my truck filled up immediately, while the grunts had to be ordered into trucks driven by the worst druggies. Another notable event was me being single out to handle the morning report. That was a corporal or sergeant's billet. I was a lance corporal, but I was put in charge of the morning report for all the motor vehicles operating out of our motor pool. The morning report had to be submitted early in the morning, every morning. It indicate how many vehicles were operational each morning and the type. Also, the report indicated what was wrong with the vehicle. That was another set of duties in addition to everything else I was required to do. Heading up convoys was another job that I was frequently single out for. A corporal could take out about 4-6 trucks. I frequently was put in charge of conveys with 4 trucks and a lead jeep. It was a bit of a thing to get a convoy to where it was supposed to go, and to keep the convoy together, especially on the freeway. One day, we were in formation after lunch waiting for our orders for the rest of the day. The Marines were involved in conversations, laughter and some horseplay when the platoon sergeant came out and told several of the men they were being ship-out to different duty stations. The sergeant told me that I was being sent to Okinawa, Japan. I told him I didn't wanna go to Okinawa. I said I want to go to Subic Bay in the Philippines. Everyone knew it was a better duty station because of the women. To say the sergeant was angry with me is an understatement. There was no missing his contempt when he said, "You're going to Okinawa." The Sergeant went back into our Company Headquarters' office. A short time passed. Then he came back out and told me, "You're going on Marine Security Guard Duty. See the Battalion Commander." What! No! I said. I'm going to Okinawa. I had no idea what Marine Security Guard Duty entailed, but I didn't think there were any women there. At least in Okinawa, there would be. No one talked about Marine Security Guard Duty. I don't think anyone knew what that Duty entailed. The sergeant said angrily, "See the Battalion Commander." I learned much later that the Battalion had received orders to transfer two Marines to the Marine Security Guard Battalion. The Battalion Commander requested that each Company Commander submit two candidates' names. From the eight names, two Marines were selected. I had nothing to do with being selected. I don't how or why I was selected. I don't know how many Marines were in our Battalion, but there were a lot. In any case, I was handed my orders and off I went. |
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Motor Vehicle Operators School |
Certificate of Graduation |
Pfc Reinhold & Room Bunkies |
Lcpl Reinhold, December 25, 1975 |
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Gama-goat |
Jeep |
Mule |
Deuce-and-a-Half |
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Certificate of Promotion to Lance Corporal |
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| Marine Security Guard Duty
My tour at A Company lasted from October 31, 1975, to May 23, 1975, after which I was assigned to State Department / Marine Security Guard School, Headquarters, Marine Security Guard Battalion, (State Department) Headquarters, U.S. Marine Corps, Henderson Hall, Arlington Virginia. I attended State Department / Marine Security Guard School from May 24, 1976, through July 13, 1976. I graduated July 13, 1976, and was assigned to the Marine Security Guard Detachment, American Embassy, Ankara Turkey for duty as a Marine Security Guard from July 18, 1976, through October 6, 1976. I was transferred to the Marine Security Guard Detachment, American Embassy, Bonn Germany on October 6, 1976, were I served as a Marine Security Guard until January 19, 1979, when I was transferred to the Extension School, Marine Corps Development and Education Command, Quantico Virginia. I was issued a Final Top Secret Security Clearance on September 8, 1976, while on Marine Security Guard Duty. I was promoted to Corporal (E-4) effective February 1, 1977, and to Sergeant (E-5) effective October 1, 1978, while at the American Embassy, Bonn. In addition, I was temporarily assigned to the United States Mission, Geneva Switzerland as a Marine Security Guard while stationed at the American Embassy, Bonn Germany. I provided security service at the Law of The Sea Conference from March 26, 1978, through May 19, 1978. As a Marine Security Guard working with the Department of State, Office of Security at Foreign Service Establishments, I had continuous contact with foreign nationals, protected classified material, had interior guard duty, was schooled in espionage and terrorist methods and techniques, lock and safe instruction, bombs and infernal devices instruction, and fire prevention. I provided entrance and exit control, examined the flow of mail and packages, inspected unoccupied offices for unsecured classified material and clandestine devices. Provided physical security by operating as a member of a ten-man emergency contingency force. I was schooled in the operational use of the 9mm submachine gun, 12-gauge riot gun, and gas agents. I attended a continual program, whereby firing a .38 caliber revolver was done on a quarterly basis. I was an expert with a M16 assault rifle and a pistol sharp shooter. While part of the Marine Detachment in Bonn, I organized the Marine Corp Ball in 1976 & 1978. Those duties were in addition to my security guard duties. They entailed funding raising for and organizing the Marine Corp Ball, a black-tie event. Organizing the Marine Corp Ball required raising enough funds to pay for the entire Event which included a formal diner and music. That meant I had to establish a budget. I organized the event by myself, or with help from anyone who I could enlist, which was hard to come-by. Fundraising included various social events, requesting prizes for raffles, and then running raffles. I organized those myself, including establishing a budget for the fundraising events. Organizing the Balls included finding a venue large enough to hold the estimated number of guests, printing the invitations, contacting a photographer, establishing a menu, hiring a band, and finding a caterer for the dinner. There were a myriad of smaller tasks involved. I was not supervised or advised in any manner other than by those parties who I paid for their services. I did not volunteer to organize the Marine Corp Balls. I was assigned the task from among the ten Marines in our Detachment. I had never seen or attended any black-tie event of any kind. I had never participated in organizing any type of social event. I had never attended a ball of any kind. So, the learning curve was quite steep, and the Marine Corp Ball was a major event looked forward to by everyone at the Embassy, and by the wider diplomatic community. | |||||
Certificate of Graduation |
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Ambassador Walter J. Stoessel |
Ambassador Walter J. Stoessel |
Ambassador Walter J. Stoessel & Wife |
Marine Security Guard Detachment |
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| Marine Corps Ball 1976 | |||||
Marine Corps Ball - November 6, 1976 |
Marine Corps Ball - November 6, 1976 |
Marine Corps Ball - November 6, 1976 |
Marine Corps Ball - November 6, 1976 |
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Marine Corps Ball Invitation |
Marine Corps Ball Invitation |
Certificate of Appreciation |
Certificate of Appreciation |
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Certificate of Promotion to Corporal |
Promotion to Corporal |
Certificate of Good Conduct |
Received Good Conduct Medal |
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| Marine Corps Ball 1978 | |||||
Marine Corps Ball 1978 |
Marine Corps Ball 1978 |
Marine Corps Ball 1978 |
Marine Corps Ball 1978 |
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| President Carter's Visit To Germany
President Carter's visit to Germany was a big event at the Embassy. As Marine Guards, we were briefed on Embassy security. After the President arrived, his limousine was parked in the Embassy's motor pool. One morning, I was on duty from 12pm-8am, so I went out to the motor-pool to talk to the Secret Service Agents guarding the President's limo. Even though I had a Top-Secret security clearance, they would not let me see inside the limo. They told me about it and let me look at a window and a door. That was the extent of my involvement with President Carter's arrival until the day President Carter was to lay the wreath. That day was my day off. I was planning to visit my girlfriend in Frankfurt. To my utter shock, our Detachment Commander told me to get myself and my blues uniform ready. He said Cpl Lueshen and I would be helping President Carter lay a wreath. I said it was my day off and my girlfriend was expecting me. I ask that another Marine be selected. The Detachment Commander said the decision to have the highest ranked military personnel at the Embassy carry the wreath was changed to the lowest ranked personnel, and that’s Cpl Lueshen and you. So, the pictures tell the story! | |||||
Corporal Reinhold and Corporal Lueshen helping President Jimmy Carter lay a wreath in Bonn Germany at the Memorial for War and Tyranny in 1978. |
L To R: German soldier, Corporal Kerwin Lueshen, Corporal Lawrence Reinhold and German solider. Corporal Reinhold straightened out one of the ribbons on the wreath while President Carter straightened out the other. This picture was taken after the ribbons were straightened. |
Certificate of Appreciation |
This picture was taken July 16, 1978 and transmitted around the world. The image was shown on television and in the print media. Mom and Dad saw me on the evening news the day the picture was shown on television. The Marines are shown with their backs to the world so the world would focus its attention on President Carter and not on the Marines. I'm standing on the right.
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President Carter laying a wreath in Bonn Germany at the Memorial for War and Tyranny in 1978. |
President Carter laying a wreath in Bonn Germany at the Memorial for War and Tyranny in 1978. |
President Carter laying a wreath in Bonn Germany at the Memorial for War and Tyranny in 1978. |
President Carter laying a wreath in Bonn Germany at the Memorial for War and Tyranny in 1978. |
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| Law of The Sea Conference
My time on Marine Security Duty was running out. In addition, my enlistment in the Marine Corps was coming to an end. I was to be discharged on June 8, 1979. I wasn't planning to re-enlist. I was looking at job opportunities where I could use my Marine Security Guard experience. I was also applying to various colleges. I also asked for a six-month extension of time on Marine Security Guard Duty so I could be discharge in Germany to stay with my girlfriend. I requested leave which was granted. My girlfriend and I were planning to travel to London. Then several days prior to my departure, the Detachment Commander called me into his office. He told me that I would be going to Geneva to provide security service at the Law of The Sea Conference from March 26, 1978, through May 19, 1978. I explained that I was preparing to go on leave and didn't want to go to Geneva. He told me in the most curt tone, "Your leave is cancelled. If you don't go to Geneva, you'll stay here." Well, I never went to London and my girlfriend decided to break off our relationship while I was in Geneva. She explained that she and her parents discussed my future and her place in it. They decided that it was the proper time to end our relationship. Their rationale was that following me to the United States was too risky for her. I was planning to get out of the Marine Corps and had no job prospects. My requested extension of time on Marine Security Guard Duty was denied. The reason I was given was that the US Military could not discharge soldiers in Germany due to an agreement with the German Government. So, my time at the Law of The Sea Conference was emotionally miserable. The work itself was the same as at the Embassy. I got to see some of Switzerland and as much of Geneva as I was willing to taken in given work constraints. Probably the most interesting aspect was the people I met. They have stayed with me my entire life. | |||||
Ambassador Elliot Richardson |
Ambassador Richardson's Doodle |
Major Luken's Cover Letter |
Ambassador Richardson's Letter |
Marine Corps Extension School
I arrived at the Extension School, Marine Corps Development and Education Command, Quantico Virginia on January 22, 1979. I administered the Staff Noncommissioned Officer Course under the direction of the School's Director and the officer in charge of the Staff Noncommissioned Officer Course until I was discharged from the Marine Corps on June 8, 1979. As a Sergeant, I was responsible for maintaining over 3,000 student records and providing reliable service to student inquiries. I was chosen to appear before a general's review board to be selected for Drill Instructor or Recruiting Duty, whichever I wanted prior to my discharge, but I elected to be discharged from the Marine Corps so I could attend the University of Wisconsin - Superior for the fall term. | |
Sgt. Lawrence Reinhold, Age 22 |
Certificate of Promotion to Sergeant |
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Colonel C.U. Bebsen's Cover Letter |
Extension School Certification |
Colonel C.U. Bebsen's Letter of Recommendation |
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