[QUOTE=Monty]
About ten years ago, while serving aboard an aircraft carrier, I had the misfortune to be the Zone Guide for a Zone Inspection one Thursday at sea. Usually, ZG is a welcome relief from the day-to-day routine and, again usually, my department got top scores on the ZI. I also planned the inspection route so I could finish the report in my division’s berthing compartment and then run it up two decks to the Quality Assurance Dept.
One day, the Inspector was a Department Head (a LCDR) from one of the squadrons on board at the time. My department was receiving all top marks until we got to the berthing. The LCDR said, “I really want to give you a good score, but I can’t identify that horrible smell. Where is it coming from?”
I had no idea and neither did he, so he said, “Turn on all the white lights and get the night crew out of their racks. We need to find out what it is.” I did so and it turned out that the stench was coming from the rack belonging to one of the day crew. The LCDR told me to write, “Zone Grade: Unsat. Reason: PN3 H’s rack FUNKY!” When I wrote, “Reason: Rack in unsatisfactory/unhealthy condition,” the LCDR took the report from me and said, “FUNKY is spelled f-u-n-k-y, Monty. Don’t worry, I’m not upset with you but y’all need to fix this Sailor ASAP.”
Odd thing is the sheets on that rack were clean the day before. It only took one night for H’s body odor to funkify the entire 120-man berthing compartment. Our department head ordered that for the rest of the cruise, the man be observed showering by someone who outranked him. Yep, H was married, too. To a really good-looking woman who had no problems with BO of her own. Maybe she didn’t have a sense of smell?
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Yeah, I knew a guy that smelled like the shitstains from Satan’s boxers at Fort Campbell. His roommate was always looking for another place to sleep because as he put it, every day this guy emits a different odor and its never a good odor. For some reason this guy hated bathing. Gawd, he smelled awful. Our platoon sergeant kicked him out of the office once telling him to go home and shower he smelled so bad. The squad leader told him to his face he smelled like a turd. Nothing fazed him. He was buttnugget stupid too, so I guess he thought we were all just kidding. The worst part is he was such a stereotypical Mississipi hillbilly type of guy he was almost a caricature. I’m surprised the people from MS didn’t pay to have him claim residence from another state. The BO alone would warrant it.
But as bad as he was, nothing can beat the Cosmic-Level Dead Ass Stench of “Mr. Evil”. (Not his real name, but it sounded like “evil” so I used to call him that). I know its kind of a european thing not to bathe as much as Americans do, but this guy took the funk prize and ran with it. He worked in a small little building that magnified his hideous soul crushing odor. The first time I met him, the person I was with told me to prepare myself. There was no way you could prepare yourself for that smell. It was worse than being trapped in a sack with 10 skunks while John Goodman sits on your head and farts after a meal of cabbage. I think the stitching in my uniform came loose it was so bad. Children probably cry when this guy is within 10 feet. Seriously, I can’t imagine that he didn’t know he smelled like the carcass of a rotting buffalo. Is water that expensive in Europe? Christ on a stick, he had a job.