U.S. President-elect Donald Trump's choice to lead the Department of Homeland Security, retired Marine General John Kelly, is one of the U.S. military's longest-serving commanders and the most senior officer since 9/11 to lose a child in combat. Blunt-spoken and popular with military personnel, Kelly, 66, was born and raised in Boston. He initially enlisted in the U.S. Marine Corps in 1970, and was discharged from active duty as a sergeant in 1972. He returned to the Marine Corps after graduation from the University of Massachusetts Boston in 1976. Kelly rose through the ranks to serve as the commanding general of the Multi-National Force West in Iraq from February 2008 to February 2009, and as the commander of Marine Forces Reserve and Marine Forces North in October 2009. He succeeded General Douglas Fraser as commander of U.S. Southern Command (USSOUTHCOM) on Nov. 19, 2012. As the head of USSOUTHCOM, Kelly was in charge of the military jail at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, and also was exposed to immigration, drug trafficking and other cross-border problems over a sprawling area that encompasses 32 countries in the Caribbean, Central America and South America. Kelly took a tough tone on border security, warning Congress last year about the risks of smuggling rings in Mexico and Central America that spirited "tens of thousands of people," including unaccompanied children, "to our nation's doorstep." He also clashed with the Obama administration over plans to close Guantanamo and the Pentagon's order that opened all jobs in combat units to women, including the most elite forces like the Navy SEALs. In 2010, Kelly became the highest ranking U.S. military officer to lose a child in combat operations in Southwest Asia. His youngest son, 1st Lieutenant Robert Michael Kelly, was killed in action in Afghanistan on Nov. 9, 2010. The younger Kelly was a Marine and was on his third combat tour, but on his first combat tour as a Marine Corps infantry officer. Since his son's death, Kelly has talked in stark terms about the... Who is Robert Michael Kelly?  A. He's a lieutenant who was killed in Afghanistan on his third combat tour  B. not enough information  C. Member of the Obama administration  D. He was in military jail was Guantanamo Bay in Cuba
A
My Pa disappeared somewhere in the wilds of 1975, when I was just fourteen years old. He was the Ambassador to 1975, but back home in 1898, in New Jerusalem, Utah, they all thought he was Ambassador to France. When he disappeared, Mama and I came back through the triple-bolted door that led from our apt in 1975 to our horsebarn in 1898. We returned to the dusty streets of New Jerusalem, and I had to keep on reminding myself that I was supposed to have been in France, and 'polly-voo' for my chums, and tell whoppers about the Eiffel Tower and the fancy bread and the snails and frogs we'd eaten. I was born in New Jerusalem, and raised there till I was ten. Then, one summer's day, my Pa sat me on his knee and told me we'd be going away for a while, that he had a new job. 'But what about the store?' I said, scandalised. My Pa's wonderful store, the only General Store in town not run by the Saints, was my second home. I'd spent my whole life crawling and then walking on the dusty wooden floors, checking stock and unpacking crates with waybills from exotic places like Salt Lake City and even San Francisco. Pa looked uncomfortable. 'Mr Johnstone is buying it.' My mouth dropped. James H Johnstone was as dandified a city-slicker as you'd ever hope to meet. He'd blown into town on the weekly Zephyr Speedball, and skinny Tommy Benson had hauled his three huge steamer trunks to the cowboy hotel. He'd tipped Tommy two dollars, in Wells-Fargo notes, and later, in the empty lot behind the smithy, all the kids in New Jerusalem had gathered 'round Tommy to goggle at the small fortune in queer, never-seen bills. 'Pa, no!' I said, without thinking. I knew that if my chums ordered their fathers around like that, they'd get a whipping, but my Pa almost never whipped me. where was I born?  A. France  B. not enough information  C. China  D. New jerusalem
D
Q: It was a good feast. Celenda's manservant had purchased two of the biggest and strongest oxen in Fena Kef and they now roasted over the hall's two huge braziers. The smell filled Celenda's nostrils. She closed her eyes and laid back on her silk divan, enjoying the sights and sounds. Her finger fiddled with a torn seam on the divan's armrest and her pleasure faded. She would have flogged her seamstress for allowing such a thing but the woman had fled a year ago. She could barely afford clothing acceptable to a woman of her position, though few could say for certain what that position was, so she simply wore less clothes overall. She raised her arms behind her back and let the warmth of the braziers flow over her body. Though the number shrank, many still enjoyed Celenda's frequent celebrations. Some laughed and shouted on one side, some coupled in the dark shadows and behind silk curtains. Most feasted and drank and everyone partook in the red lotus. Celenda beckoned a thin slave boy, one of her last few, and he came holding a bronze bowl. Dried red leaves covered the bottom of the bowl. 'Why is this bowl not full?' she shouted at the boy. He cringed but she could tell he was not really frightened. She could not afford to injure or kill him and everyone knew it. She slapped him, but not hard. If she hit too hard she would find herself with one less slave along with her diminishing supply of the red leaf. Instantly the thoughts of the crumbling villa, the torn furniture, and the diminishing coffers fled from her mind. Euphoria flowed in. She felt it in her fingers and toes. What Celenda grabbed from the bowl?  A. not enough information  B. four petals  C. five petals  D. ten petals

A: B