When I was in the Navy, all of the electricians E-6 and below lived in one large compartment on the ass end of the second deck (that’s one deck below the hanger, 5 decks below the flight deck) directly below the jet engine repair shop. The electricians (EM and IC) all 250 or so of us, were in a compartment that ran the width of the ship, and about 40 feet in length. We shared that space with the machinists, so in all, there were about 500 people who lived in an area of about 6000 square feet. We shared 4 urinals, 10 commodes, 8 sinks, and 10 shower stalls.
The floor above us had the jet engine shop, where they would test jet engines at full throttle, day and night. Directly below us were the two steering gear rooms, machinery rooms with loud hydraulic systems in them to turn the ship’s rudders. There was never a quiet time in that space while we were at sea.
Imagine the smell of 500 men who all work 16 hour days (or more) in hot machinery spaces, all crammed into a relatively small compartment, body odor, farts, and snoring all combining with the never-ending noise of a ship at sea. There were days the smell was truly horrific. Six people were assigned to clean this compartment on a rotating basis- one E-4, and five E-3 and below. The duty was referred to as “coop cleaning.” Those six people had numerous duties, including cleaning the floors, the heads, and also doing the laundry.
In this compartment, there were twelve large laundry bins, marked “colors” and “whites.” Each person would toss their clothes into the bins- you tie your socks in a knot through the belt loops of your pants, toss them and your shirts in the colors bin, then toss underwear and t-shirts into the whites bin. Twice a week, the coop cleaners would empty those bins and take them down to the ship’s laundry for cleaning. It would usually be 300-400 pounds of laundry. Imagine the smell of the whites bin with 750 pairs of sweaty underwear in them.
When the laundry had been washed and dried, the coop cleaners would return them to your bunk (unfolded), which was easy to do, since all uniforms had your name on them, with one exception. The coop cleaners would select the pair of underwear with the largest skid mark, and post them on the bulletin board with a sign over it that read “skid mark of the week.” Since your name is on your underwear, everyone knew whose they were.
There was one particular guy who always seemed to win that particular contest. His skid marks were so incredibly large, they had to be done on purpose. It was pretty disgusting and unbelievable.



