During my Vietnam WESTPAC tour on the heavy cruiser USS St. Paul (CA-73), in 1966 my General Quarters station was on the bridge as “Messenger of the Watch.” My responsibilities were to get coffee for the officers on deck, answer the phone on the bridge bulkhead and of course to physically deliver and retrieve messages throughout the ship.
On my very first call to battle stations the bridge phone rang so I was on it in a flash since the Officer of the Deck, the Junior Officer of the Deck and the Captain were all there listening. I figured it was not a big responsibility, but by
gum I was going to shine in this position, especially since I was in low regard with my Chief and Division Officer at the time.
“Messenger of the Watch,” I answered in a strong voice of authority glancing at the Captain to see if he was noticing. I graduated from a North Carolina college, so I was not totally unfamiliar with Southern accents and syntax. The response I received however, had to be from someone who had been raised in the most obscure hollow, in the most remote backwoods of the deepest South. “Tuwet won, reqwesting pomission to twain tuwet and aovate goun.” I didn’t have a clue what the fellow was saying.
The Officer of the Deck turned to me and asked, “Who is it, Messenger of the Watch?”
“It’s turret one, Sir. I’m getting it right now,” I answered in what I hoped was a calm voice. In the clearest most articulate voice I could muster I pleaded, “Can you please repeat your request slower and clearer?”
Obviously irritated, he repeated the message only faster and louder. “REQWEST POMISSION TO TWAIN TUWET AND AOVATE GOUN.”
The OOD glanced over to me. “Well, who is it, Messenger”?
“It’s turret one with a request, Sir.”
“Well, what is it?”, he demanded.
By now everyone on the bridge was looking at me.
“Well, Sir”, I hesitated.
The OOD turned his full body to me with his hands on his hip and commanded, “Give it to me, now.”
“Yes, sir. Turret one requests pomission to twain tuwet and aovate goun.”
There are moments in your life you wish you could bottle and take it out later to savor at your leisure. This was one of those moments. The look on the OOD’s face was a odd mixture of confusion, curiosity and irritation.
“Say again Messenger.” By the look on his face I could see that I was not in a good place, especially since my Chief had told me if I had any more screw ups I could kiss any future liberty passes goodbye.
“Yes sir, turret one requests pomission to twain tuwet and aovate goun.”
Then the OOD did a strange thing. He pulled out his binoculars and began scanning the horizon as if he might find the answer out there somewhere. After a long pause, without taking his eyes from his binoculars he muttered softly, “Permission granted” to my profound relief that I quickly relayed to our country friend in turret one.
Later, as I gained more experience with turret one calls, I learned that he was asking for “…
permission to train turret and elevate gun.”