Years back, i was stationed on a tender that, among other things, loaded missiles onto submarines.
One day when we briefed the operation, they told us that the submarine we were working with was in the middle of a formal inspection. So if they were a little anxious or overly cautious about things, we were to be polite and understanding. We nodded and dispersed to our tasks.
The man in charge of the operation topside was a Boatswain Seaman rather than a Missile Technician, or a petty officer, but he was fully qualified for the task. Part of his job involved directing the crane operator, so he needed his hands free. To facilitate communications, they taped the button down on his sound powered phones so he was always transmitting. So we could hear everything that happened topside that day.
The security guards allowed one of the inspectors into the area. This was a full-bird Captain. He was an O6, so he outranked the Bosun by about sixteen levels of rank. And he had the wrong shoes on. And no hard-hat.
Rivera politely pointed this out. "Excuse me, sir, you need a hard hat and safety shoes to be in the handling area."
"That's okay," Captain Inspector replied. Everyone listening on the phones started to smile in anticipation. Many people seem to think that their rank provides privileges that it really doesn't.
"No, sir, it's not okay," the still-respectful Rivera insisted. "The rules are clear, everyone in the area needs hard-hat and safety shoes."
"How about," Captain offered, "you just do your job and I'll do mine?"
"That's fine, sir, but part of my job includes making sure the area is safe. I'm not bringing the missile over until you either leave the area or comply with the safety instructions."
"Maybe you need to be relieved," Captain threatened. We all started to laugh. Rivera didn't take being threatened very well, especially for actually doing his job.
"Maybe you need to pull your head out of your ass," Rivera said, still in a respectful TONE. This would be the point where our leading petty officer threw off his headphones and started running.
About then the submarine's CO ran up to the boundary of the area (I assume the crew's phone talker in the area had asked for help right away.). "It's OKAY!" the CO, a Commander, shouted. "I authorize him to be in the area without-"
Rivera turned on him and screamed, "WRONG, Dickhead! You can't authorize this motherfucker to be here without the right safety equipment. It's a Nuclear Weapons Manual Rule and you don't outrank the Admiral who signed that book!"
The Captain said, "Now, listen Petty Officer-"
Rivera rounded on him and correct his assumption. "Bosun Seaman, Asshole!"
There was some scuffling sounds and then we heard the LPO's voice over the phones. "Rivera, you're relieved."
"But this idiot-"
"Fine, fine, you're relieved. Go man the magazine." Rivera handed over the phones and stomped off. LPO donned the phones and announced a change to the watchbill.
Then the Captain cleared his throat. "So, that's cleared up?"
"Yes, sir. He won't trouble you again."
"Good."
"Of course," LPO continued, "we do need you to put on proper safety gear in accordance with the instructions or we can't bring the missile over."
I was down in the magazine when Rivera arrived. We tried to tell him that while his heart was in the right place, he HAD fucked up when he called a full bird captain a dickhead and-
"No, no, NO!" he shouted. "I called the COMMANDER a dickhead and the CAPTAIN a motherfucker. Get it right, goddamn it!"
"Ah. Well, that's fine, then. I was confused."
The rumor goes that the sub CO called our weapons officer and asked if Rivera was going to be written up. Weps asked if the Captain was going to be written up. The CO hung up.
