There are several Merchant Marine Academies in the US. Graduates of these institutions can accept a naval reserve officers commission if they so choose. When I was on active duty around 1970 my ship played host to a pair of midshipmen from the Maine Maritime Academy. The idea was to have them serve aboard a USN ship with characteristics similar to a vessel in the Merchant Marine and get credit for a summer cruise while learning about life in the Navy. It was also an opportunity for a once in a lifetime practical joke.
Soon after our two guests came aboard the Captain held a special conference with a very limited group. The only people who knew what was about to happen were the captain, the executive officer, the operations officer (me), the communications officer, the senior radioman, and one of the midshipmen. This meeting, where all of the participants were sworn to secrecy, took place while were sailing in the Caribbean in support of training operations. The plan was to execute the deception just before we left to return to our home port in Newport, Rhode Island.
We gathered some personal data about the second midshipman from the one who was part of our secret group. Then, the radio members concocted a fake message addressed to our victim, and delivered a copy to the captain. Our target was invited to see the captain and received a copy of the message. I don’t remember exactly how it was worded, but the main part of the message was to inform our innocent midshipman that there had been an auto accident in which his wife had been killed and asking what should be done about his infant daughter who had survived the crash.
At this point you need to know that the Academy had a policy that required all students to defer marriage until after they had graduated. Both our guests still had another year to go before they finished.
As you may imagine, the victim was quite incredulous. He was sure he had never been married, and that the whole thing was either a plot against him, or an incredible case of mistaken identity. That was where the rest of the participants chimed in to convince him that this was an accurate and true report that required him to send back some kind of response. The communications officer and the leading radioman took on a tour of radio central where he saw that we received messages on a teletype machine and that the machine was connected in such a manner that there really was no way the message could have been faked. We even let him try to type out something on the machine. Of course, he was unable to do so. Then we pointed out that the header had his name and his student identification (provided by his erstwhile “friend”) and that was something no one would have known.
Meanwhile, the ship was many miles off the Atlantic coast, slowly making her way back to Newport. The victim asked for, and the Captain authorized, sending back a message asking for more information. A day later we made another fake message, this one ostensibly coming from the Maine Maritime Academy. In that message the policy of students remaining single was mentioned. It also asked for clarification about te status of our unfortunate cadet. After seeing this, he really began to worry. His The roommate, and our co-conspirator, informed us that he had taken the reported age of the infant, tacked on another 9 months and tried to figure out what girl he had been with around that time.
We were due in Newport the next day. The skipper called our distraught midshipman to his cabin for another “conference”. He then disclosed what we had done and took full responsibility for the entire affair. Until now I had never written about it and, as far as I know, none of the othe conspirators ever mentioned it publicly. I do suspect that several of them, including myself, have often remembered the caper with more tan a small touch of amusement.
Wetherhorn 