BMC Reginald Lewis, U. S. Coast Guard Retired
United Methodist Church, Harkers Island , NC
as read on 18 Dec. 2001 by Captain William Brogdon, U. S. Coast Guard Retired
former Ops Officer USCGC Chilula WATF-153
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Bill Brogdon & Larry Richter at the USCG Cutter Chilula Reunion
in 2000. |
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Reginald Lewis was a First Class Bosun’s Mate when I reported aboard Chilula as a young Lieutenant jg. He was first class according to the stripes on his sleeve, and I
soon found out that he was a first class person, a man who earned the respect of everyone
aboard.
He and our fine Chief Bosun’s Mate worked hard to train a young, rambunctious deck
force, keep them in order, keep Chilula Bristol fashion, and do hundreds of rough and
dangerous jobs. This wasn’t easy on a ship that had a heavy operational schedule,
including frequent search and rescue calls as well as changing crews on the Diamond
Shoal and Frying Pan lightships every two weeks.
He was 100% Coast Guard. He might have regarded the other military services with a
little bit of suspicion. He certainly felt that his Service and his ship could hold their own
against anyone. He loved service competition such as being on the winning rowing team
at Fort Macon.
For some time he was the Master of Arms. Although nearly every ship in the fleet had an
internal public address system, Chilula did not. Reggie was the P. A. system. At every
event in the daily routine, you could hear his bosun’s pipe followed by his booming
voice, first in one compartment, then the next. “Chow down, relieving watchstanders and
first class petty officers at the head of the line.” “All hands to quarters.” “Liberty call;
liberty party muster on the quarterdeck for the O.D.’s inspection.” I can almost hear him
now, keeping the ship’s crew on schedule with his bosun’s pipe.
Reggie assigned nicknames to the men in the deck force and used them constantly. He
was not “politically correct.” “Chop Chop,” as he called a man of Chinese ancestry, “put some of that bar grease on the taffrail where the towline is rubbing.” “Souwester, see if
you can put that heaving line across the bow of that boat.” “Smitty, get the Quillen boys
for the boat crew. It’s gonna be rough.” The men didn’t seem to mind the nicknames.
He loved hearing and telling sea stories. He recently told us about the time Mr.
Montgomery, the Executive Officer and a qualified diver, was working under the ship
with air supplied by a hand cranked pump. The Warrant Bosun was looking down over
the air pump. “Mister Burbage,” said Reggie, “if your cigarette ashes fall down in that
pump, you’ll smoke the Exec. Right up out of the water.”
One of the men in the deck force had been in the Army, and was learning to help launch a
boat. He was just standing there while the boat swung, men were controlling the swing,
and Reggie was giving the orders needed to lower the boat without losing control. It had
taken quite a while in a cold raw wind, and now the boat was secured at the rail. “Aldinger,” he said, for once using a proper name, “What are you supposed to be doing?”
“Belly Gripe, sir” came the reply. Reggie said it cracked him up. It was an accurate
description of the man’s assigned station, but that little task was long finished. Was he griping about his work? Either way, the reply worked.
Reggie was completely dependable. Whether launching a boat in rough weather, getting a towline secured in a snowstorm, or serving as a Junior Officer of the Deck, assigning the job to Reggie was like knowing that it would be done, and done right.
We might have been standing on a cold quarterdeck, in port, drinking a cup of coffee after eight o’clock reports. Or I might have gone through the mess deck in the evening, while the ship was under way. Or maybe it was just last month at the Chilula shipmates’lunch. Reggie would be telling sea stories with that wide grin on his face. He loved a good laugh. Somehow I think he will be doing that as soon as he rounds up some old shipmates in heaven.
He left us too soon. Reggie, It’s good to know that you believed in the Lord and are with Him, but your friends miss you.
1 Corinthians 2:9 "But as it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him."
Capt. Bill Brogdon
December 2001
