The April 11 issue of The Dolphin, the U.S. Naval Submarine Base newspaper, showed a photograph of the country’s senior naval officer, Adm. John Richardson, the chief of naval operations, visiting the Undersea Warfighting Development Center on the base. Also in the photo are Rear Adm. Leonard Dollaga, who heads the center, and Lt. Jordan Kronshage, who is holding the CNO’s cover (which is Navy for hat).

When I saw that photograph, I thought back to a similar situation in the summer of 1973 at North Island Naval Air Station in Coronado, Calif. I was a young petty officer second class, and while my ship was undergoing overhaul, was assigned to temporary duty in the Special Security Office in the intelligence section of Commander Naval Air Force Pacific.

One of my jobs was to keep track of the levels of clearance and access for folks in the Pacific area, and visitors.

Thus it was that when a West Coast flag officers conference was scheduled at the Nuclear Weapons Training Center on NAS North Island, I was assigned to man the security desk outside the conference room, checking the clearances of all the admirals and their aides in attendance.

I had driven past the center every day on my way to work, but had never had any reason to enter. All I knew was that, not surprisingly, a tall chain link fence surrounded it. Inside the fence was a “guard” dog named Five Points, because he was worth five points on the security scale. Someone told me the dog came from the pound. Every time I saw him his tail was wagging!

While I normally wore dungarees to work, on the day of the conference I wore a set of tropical whites, with nametag and ribbons. That morning, I was admitted to the building and escorted to the conference room on the second deck (Navy for floor). There were a number of wooden pegs on the wall outside the room, obviously designed to hold hats and coats. I immediately hung up my white hat, sometimes called a “Dixie cup,” and took my place at a table where I sat with my list of attendees and their clearances. Next to me stood a Marine sergeant, who wore his cover, since he was armed.

As the admirals and their aides arrived, I checked their ID cards against my list. While I was doing this, the aides took the opportunity to hang up both officers’ covers (there were lots of wooden pegs). The visors on all those covers were bedecked with more scrambled eggs than the mess hall across the street had served that morning!

One young lieutenant commented to his boss, as he took his hat, “Admiral, I hope I can pick out your cover when it’s time to leave.”

I couldn’t help but interject, “Sir, I can see my hat from here.” And there it was, in the midst off all those officers’ covers, my enlisted white hat hanging on a peg.

The admiral glanced over at the row of hats and began to chuckle. “I don’t see your problem, Lieutenant. Petty Officer Welt can spot his hat!”

I’m glad the admiral had a good sense of humor.

Robert F. Welt of Mystic is a retired longtime teacher in the Groton Public Schools.