Fred Larsen



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In Case I Run for President - I Don't Want Anything Taken Out of Context

It appears that a person, who has served in the military, is subject to being scrutinized very carefully. In case I decide to run for office I .am going to put my military record on the line.

I was voted into the PGA in March 1942, and in April I enlisted in the Army, and was assigned to the Army Air Corps.

After basic training at Keesler Field, I was shipped, by myself, to Tyndall Field, Florida, which was an aerial gunnery school. The air war was then in Germany, and the fact my mother came from Germany, along with having a number of relatives there, eliminated me from having anything to do with killing my own relatives. I was then assigned as an instructor. I spent the next 3 years around guns, and was in charge of gunnery ranges.

I was a good soldier and worked my way up to Master Sgt., and there were only two of us in the entire Department of Training. I was also Captain of the Instructors Gunnery Team, for competition against other Gunnery schools. My record to this point is flawless, but now comes the part that might jeopardize my political career.

In the summer of 1941 I was working at a resort club in Connecticut and struck up a conversation with a gentleman who was waiting for his ride. He informed me he was from Florida, and was the Mayor of a town and President of a Country Club. We had a nice chat about Florida, from which I had just returned. After I had gotten settled at Tyndall, looking for a golf course was my next move. Upon showing my PGA credentials to t he Pro, he remarked that the Mayor, and the President of the Club had some property in Connecticut. It turned out to be the same man. Needless to say, I lived like a King while I was there, and incidentally, some years later, became the Pro Manager of that club.

During my stay at Tyndall we had as many as five pros and three state champions stationed there, and when conditions allowed, we had many great golf matches and tournaments. I probably enjoyed those days on the golf course as much as I have ever since.

When the war was winding down, many of us had enough service point to be discharged, but we all had to wait around, because they could not let everyone out at one time. The gunnery program had come to a halt, so they put me in charge of 350 men to go to the Northwest to fight forest fires. I was in charge of a Troop Train from Panama City, Florida to Tacoma, Washington. (All of that is another story) To make a long story short I ended up in Missoula, Montana. After coming down from a fire I asked if there was a golf course in town, and found out that there was a nice 9 hole country club about a mile from our tent area.

The Camp Commander happened to be there when I presented my PGA card. He said, "Our Pro is in the service and we need a Pro. I want you to be Pro at this Club during your stay." Being a good soldier, I said, "Yes Sir." The entire summer I lived in the clubhouse, gave lessons, (got paid for them) was, wined, and dined by the members, invited to their homes, belonged to the Press-Radio Club, and was taken on week end boating trips, etc. I did all of this because I was following orders. The fire season ended in September, and I bid fond farewell to a great summer.

My next assignment was in Southern California to help with fires in the hills above San Diego. It was just about the end of the fire season there, and again I was shipped out alone. This time it was to Stockton, California at Ordinance Depot. When being processed through they asked what my last assignment was, and I told them as golf pro at a country club. I was informed that they could not top that, but could make me First Sgt. of a German Prisoner of War Camp, but right outside of the stockade was a golf course. The Germans were very military, which forced me to put on my best military front.

After a couple of weeks a call came in for me. "This is General Barriger," (He is gone now and this will not tarnish his service record) "I understand you are a golf pro." Being a good soldier, I replied, "Yes Sir." He said, "You will meet me on the first tee at thirteen twenty." Again, "Yes Sir." My game was pretty sharp after the summer in Montana, and my practicing every day. When we were through he told me to check my new orders when they came out. The next day I was transferred to the main base as Golf Instructor in Special Services.

Every day, until the day I got out, I played golf with the General. He would make up a foursome and pick me up and off we would go and play somewhere. He informed me that if I stayed in the service he would fix me up with a good deal, but I politely declined. You will notice that on all of these assignments I was strictly following orders as a good soldier.

 Posted by Fred Larsen on  August 10, 2004

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