Mr. Liebeler. Since he had been out of the country, the fact that he was back and didn't have an alien card was proof he was a citizen?
Mr. Andrews. Yes.
Mr. Liebeler. Do you remember any other part of the conversation?
Mr. Andrews. When he asked the questions—I don't know which visit it was—about citizenship of his wife, I asked the birthplace or origin cited for citizenship purposes—that's what counts—and he said Russia, so I just assumed he had met someone somewhere, some place, either in Russia or in Europe, married them, and brought them over here as a GI, a GI bride, and wanted to go through the routine of naturalization, which is 3 years after lawful admission into the United States if you are married, and five years if you are not, maintain the status here in the States cumulatively for 5 years.
Mr. Liebeler. Did he indicate that he wanted to institute citizenship proceedings for his wife?
Mr. Andrews. Yes; I told him to go to Immigration and get the forms. Cost him $10. All he had to do was execute them. He didn't need a lawyer. That was the end of that.
Mr. Liebeler. How many times did he come into your office?
Mr. Andrews. Minimum of three, maximum of five, counting initial visit.
Mr. Liebeler. And did you talk about different subjects at different times? As I understand it, the first time he came there, he was primarily concerned about his discharge, is that correct?
Mr. Andrews. Well, I may have the subject matter of the visits reversed because with the company he kept and the conversation—he could talk fairly well—I figured that this was another one of what we call in my office free alley clients, so we didn't maintain the normalcy with the file that—might have scratched a few notes on a piece of pad, and 2 days later threw the whole thing away. Didn't pay too much attention to him. Only time I really paid attention to this boy, he was in the front of the Maison Blanche Building giving out these kooky Castro things.