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Colonel Richard F. Peterson was an outstanding officer and a magnificent Marine. I still have a picture of him and his wife, Ginger, taken during the 1964 Marine Corps Ball, which he kindly autographed for me. To this day this photo remains one of my treasured Marine Barracks Rota memorabilia. My condolences to Ginger Petersen and their family. The good colonel will be missed by all officers and enlisted men who proudly served under his command. Rest in peace, Sir. Thank you very much for your selfless service and courageous contribution to your beloved country. Semper Fidelis. Angel Moreno.

We all knew we had “lucked out” in the C.O. lottery.  He made you want to do better.  You did your best because you knew that was what he expected.  I never heard him yell at anyone, did you?  Matter of fact his style didn’t even include a raising of his voice.  No matter how bad you had let him down.   I had two occasions where I found myself standing tall in his office.  He just very firmly conveyed his disappointment in my actions, and then he went on to let me know how much more he expected of me.  If there is such an oxymoron, it was an inspirational, motivational… chewing out.  I left his office both times relieved but more important, determined to do better. 

One day during General Puller’s visit, I drove Col. Peterson out to Lt. Dabney’s home to pick up the General.  On the way, I asked Col. Peterson what kind of punishment was going to be dished out to a couple of Marines who were about to be brought before him.  With great sadness Col Peterson said to me, “Well Corporal Baca, I don’t know.  Having to discipline your troops is the hardest part of being a C.O.  It is necessary, but never easy.”  I learned more about leadership in that short conversation where I heard those heartfelt sentiments about the responsibility of a C.O.

When we picked up Chesty, he called Col. Peterson “Son.”  And he called me Marine.  What a brotherhood.  How lucky were we?  On this sad day, today, I am 22 years older than the Col. was that day and two years older than Chesty was on that April morning in 1965.  Yet in learning of Col. Peterson’s passing it seems as if it was yesterday. 

In August 1965, I helped out at a charity event in SanLucar.  It was on this evening that my future wife walked by where we were taking a break.  Col. Peterson poked me in the side and said, “So, you like that one, huh Corporal Baca?”  “Yes sir,” I replied, “I think I am going to marry her.”  He laughed and retorted, “Uh huh, sure Marine,” as he slapped me on the back.  He probably thought I didn’t have a snowball’s chance, but he never let on, just in his own way; let me know that he was rooting for me.  I wonder today how much my boast to him and his response played a part in my actually marrying this “girl of my dreams?”

Each day as I count my blessings, Col. Peterson is still high up on my list.  As is his lovely wife, Ginger.  Together they took care of all us crazy guys.  Wow, they had their hands full.  I know that we Rota Marines who served under Col. Peterson often reflect on how great a tour we had in Spain in the mid-sixties.  Sure the liberty was good, the vino excellent, the bullfights exciting and all the rest of it made for memories of a lifetime.  Without the Peterson’s though, it could have just been another tour.

Colonel Peterson was the embodiment of the Marine slogan, “Espirit de Corps.”  We all came away from this time spiritually enriched by a father figure of a Commaning Officer and a gentle lady who we may not have known as well, who was his strength.

I thank both of them for many things, some unknown.   I know my life took a different path than the one I was on when I arrived in Rota in July 1964.  I don’t know how much their influence directly or indirectly altered my life journey.  Yet, if I had to thank two people for the many blessings in my life that followed me there would be no one in second place.

Semper Fi! Colonel Peterson.   Vaya con Dios.  It was our honor to have served in your command.