One time on the boat, a friend came to get me so we could inventory the Sealed Authenticators. They were locked inside a safe that was locked inside a safe that was locked inside the Radio Room, which was always staffed and under restricted access. My friend had the combination to one safe and I had the combination to the other and one of us was supposed to read off the serial IDs for the Authenticators (not the codes sealed inside!) and the other verified against the inventory list.
I started through the Authenticators reading “AA, AB, AC, …” and my colleague saying “check, check, check, …”. After only a handful, the Radioman on duty broke in with “you’re not doing it right. You can’t say the letters, you have to say the words.”
I knew what he meant, but strategical deterrent patrols go on for a long time and it gets boring, so I replied “what words? ‘QZ’ doesn’t spell anything.” “You know, the words for the letters, like ‘Alpha’, ‘Bravo’, …”. “Fine”, I said and happened to look down at the map of the world under plexiglass on the bench we were work working at. Fortuitously (?), I was positioned over the Soviet Union, so started reading off “Arkhangelsk-Moskva, Moskva-Novosibirsk, Okhotsk-Petropavlosk, …” and my colleague responded “check, check, check, …” I’m starting to have to scramble to find cities that start with the right letters.
RM3: “You speak Russian, Mr. Abcd!?”
Me: “Of course I speak Russian. I grew up there.”
RM3: “What do you mean you grew up there!? You did not grow up in Russia!”
Me: “Well no. I grew up in Ukraine, in Pripyat[*].”
RM3: “No, no, no. That’s not possible. You didn’t grow up there.”
Me: “If I didn’t grow up there, then how come I speak Russian?”
That was enough to tumble his gyros (the poor kid was about 19). My colleague and I finished up, locked everything away, and left to go back to whatever we’d been doing before.
Later that night, the Chief Radioman came out to the Conn when I was standing OOD. He growled, “What. Did. You. Tell. Him!? He won’t let you into Radio on your own anymore!” “Chief, I didn’t want to go into Radio in the first place!” I explained and the Chief agreed that it was funny, but that I’d made his life more difficult. It was at least a week or two before the RM3 decided that maybe I wasn’t a serious security breach after all.
[*] the only reason I knew about Pripyat was because we’d studied Chernobyl in Nuke School.