This review includes an entensive mixture of slang and technical terms from at least two sources: the landline telegraph service -- including "k." for "o'clock" and "S.F.D." for "stopped for dinner" -- plus naval operations, such as "R.C." for "Revenue Cruiser". An additional interesting slang reference is to "hams"--in this early example, true to its origin among landline operators, it includes all untrained or unprepared operators, although later the meaning would narrow to just mean an amateur radio enthusiast.
The Railroad Telegrapher, October, 1910, pages 1565-1566:

    7:30 a. m.--Turned to for mess. Fine morning, but regular weather breeder.
    8:00 a. m.--Finished cleaning up station and took 8-12 watch. Not much stirring.
    9:00 a. m.--I knew it. Southwest storm warning ordered displayed from Delaware Breakwater to Eastport.
    10 k. a. m.--Gee, but my Nanny is loose. Took 35 minutes to give storm warning to a "Navy" Op. on "U. S. S. X----." He is a six-weeks' product of the Electrical school at Brooklyn Navy Yard. Talk about government control, regulations for Wireless operators and interference by amateurs, shades of Job, but I don't blame commercial companies for kicking when Uncle Sam has such hams for his business.
    11 k. a. m.--More trouble. Got a rush "O. F. M." (official message) and that ham at "N. A.----" unable to get it. Ran storage batteries down badly. Will have to charge this afternoon sure and that's my job, too.
    Noon--Sent time signal O. K. Everything quiet. It's sure a relief to get off for a little while. "S. F. D."
    1 k. p. m.--Started oil engine. Had trouble with vaporizer. Wish I had a helper from some S. P. tank job to help me turn her over.
    2 k. p. m.--She's running fine. Will be through by 5 p. m.
    3 k. p. m.--Still at it. Had to man the pump and fill her up.
    4 k. p. m.--She hasn't stopped yet. There are hopes for another hour.
    5 k. p. m.--Shut down. Thank the Lord I'm through with that safe and sound. Time to start supper now; what will I have?
    6 k. p. m.--Supper. Gee, but this is great dope. Ham omelet, hash brown, fruit cake and coffee. "Oh, if mother could only see me now," with my big apron on and all flour from the biscuits.
    7 k. p. m.--Music and a smoke. Practiced new songs on the piano with Jeff doing stunts on the mandolin. Afterward ran off a few with the auto attachment. Will run the phonograph tomorrow night. This would be a lonesome hole without music.
    8 k. p. m.--On watch again. Storm is coming and it promises to be a peach with the fuzz removed. I see trouble coming if our aerial carries away.
    9 k. p. m.--All hands turned in. Storm is getting worse and thick fog settling. Can barely see the lighthouse about 500 yards away. Glad I'm not a life-saver on patrol tonight.
    10 p. m.--There's that ham again. Reckon he wants me to run my batteries down again to practice with him by telling him what I think of hams in general and him in particular.
    11 p. m.--Western Union wire in trouble and Postal working rotten. This sure is a classy storm. This don't seem to bother Wellsfleet any. He is sending press as usual. Atlantic City is on the job with a newspaper, too. Class to wireless news service.
    Midnight--Another day gone. Will have 4-8 watch in morning. Called relief and instructed him to call me if we were called on phone, wireless, W. U. or Postal, and to watch closely for distress signals. He is a product of the school, too, and never saw the Morse code until he came out here four weeks ago, so you know what kind of an operator he is. THEY say he has qualified as wireless operator, though, having taken fifteen words a minute in Continental code, so he stands a watch here.
    1:40 a. m.--There's our phone call. What's wrong with the man on watch? Maybe he has the office door closed and can not hear the bell, as it is out in the dining room.
    1:45 a. m.--Captain of life-saving station at "M----" on wire. A four-master ashore one mile west of his station, and will I please notify a revenue cutter that assistance is needed. Sure.
    1:50 a. m.--Am calling cutter, but I know I won't raise him. There is only one operator on her and he doesn't come on until about 5 a. m.
    2 k. a. m.--Notified commercial station I had a rush for "RC." He is calling them now for me.
    2:15 a. m.--Phone again. Captain at "M----" wants to know if I got the "RC" yet. Told him no. He requests a broadcast "SOS."
    2:20 a. m.--Notified all commercial stations within reach. Help will be sent soon. Have done all I can. Will turn in now, as I go on again at 4 a. m.
    4 k. a. m.--Turned to. Assistance reached schooner O. K.
    5 k. a. m.--Notified the "RC" as follows: "Vessel reported ashore one mile west of "M----" floated this morning O. K. Assistance not needed." Everything getting mighty quiet. All commercial stations quiet. Night men must be in the hay. Wish I could go, too, but don't dare risk it.
    6 k. a. m.--Time to start breakfast going. Have to keep moving to get it and stand watch.
    7 k. a. m.--Ready to bake flap-jacks. Maple syrup and sausage with fine coffee.
    7:30 a. m.--"Rise and shine" all ye land lubbers and lolly pops and partake of this grub before it gets cold.
    The above is an actual twenty-four hours' duty at a certain station on the Atlantic Coast less than a month ago. Aside from the wreck it is an average day. We are livened up occasionally by the mail and we are always on the watch for the journal. At present I am the only "old timer" out here. The chief is an ex-apprentice boy and one of the first W. T. men in the service. The other two men are products of the school and chief or I have to be within calling distance all the time. There are hopes of a wireless rate, but at present we are rated electricians and are liable to be placed in a dynamo room as in the station, so until we get a separate rate the railroad is the best place for a brass pounder.
CERT. 25, DIV. 94.