Dave Hardin’s comment here about a LSoS former cook, fake SF, and congressional candidate reminded me of one of the funniest things that I ever saw in the military. So I thought I’d relate it here.
At Fort Bragg years ago, the XVIII Airborne Corps at one time had a formal IG Inspection – and no, I’m not talking about what later came to be called an “IG assistance visit”. This was a freaking formal, unannounced, full-blown no-notice inspection.
I understand the change to a different form of IG inspection (the IG assistance visit) happened during the early 1980s. However, my unit was one of the ones tagged for the formal hoo-hah before the change occurred. Lucky us. (smile)
Under the old-style IG inspection procedure, a unit would be called at 0500 and would be notified it was having an IG inspection that day. You might hear a rumor that your unit was a “possible” beforehand, but the date was almost never known. Or you might get completely blindsided. That depended on how good your higher HQ was at working the “BRAGG RUMINT” pipeline.
After notification, the unit would recall its personnel, get gear and records laid out for inspection. Everything had to be ready for inspection by 0900 that same day.
The IG Inspection team – a slew of folks – would then descend on the unit like ravening locusts, looking for whatever they could find wrong. Equipment, personnel, unit area, arms room, operational/maintenance/supply/administrative records – you name it, the team looked at it.
Some of it was kinda over the top. One example: the arms room inspector used a damn dental pick – the kind a dentist uses to probe for cavities – he’d obtained somewhere when inspecting rifles and pistols in order to find traces of carbon.
Good times. (smile)
The formal inspection began with an in-ranks inspection of the unit, in unit formation arranged by MTOE slot number, by the inspection team. Dogtags and ID card out, checked against unit roster – the whole bit. That formal in-ranks inspection was conducted by the head of the IG team and his NCOIC.
The IG Team OIC at the time was a Major (remember, this was the XVIII Airborne Corps IG conducting the inspection). The guy wore an eyepatch; as I recall, he was indeed a Ranger – though not, as I recall, SF. He appeared to have been fairly recently injured (hence the eyepatch and probably the assignment to the IG team). But regardless, he was still a rather imposing, mean looking SOB – especially to a youngster like myself. And from having crossed paths with him elsewhere, I knew he could indeed be a SOB at times.
At the time, my duty assignment put me fairly close to the unit’s Mess Sergeant in the unit formation – but not immediately next to him. During the inspection, out of the corner of my eye I could see the IG Inspection Team OIC talking to our Mess Sergeant – first quietly, then rather angrily. Then suddenly the IG Team OIC stopped talking, went quiet for a second or so, said something quietly to the Mess Sergeant – and moved on to the next soldier in the ranks.
The inspection took a few hours, but was done that afternoon. We did well as I recall – not 100% perfect, but well enough to stay off the Corps (and our Brigade’s) “sh!t list” and out of trouble. No serious problems or issues were found.
After the outbrief, I ran into our Mess Sergeant, SFC Smith (I’ve changed the last name here). He was smoking a cigarette, and chuckling to himself.
A bit of background: SFC Smith was a damned fine Mess Sergeant. He ran a good mess hall, and could – within limits – still do a bit of wheeling and dealing to take care of the troops, food wise (that had become much more difficult in the late 1970s and early 1980s than it had been a few years earlier).
He obviously enjoyed good food, too – like many mess sergeants of the day, he was a touch heavy. Not sloppy-fat heavy, but maybe 5 to 10 pounds over the screening weight for his height.
This was also about the time the Army had started to tighten up on height/weight standards.
Our conversation went something like this (SFC Smith’s words in italics):
. . .
“Hey, Sergeant Smith – what’s so funny?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
“Remember the in-ranks inspection? What happened there still cracks me up every time I think about it?”
“Yeah, I was wondering about that. It looked like the Major was reaming you a new one. What was that all about?”
“Damnedest thing I ever saw. He looked at my ID card and asked me my name. I told him. He looked at my uniform.
Then he asked me how tall I was. So I told him that, too.
Then he asked me, ‘How much do you weigh, Sergeant Smith?’ So I told him.
Then he kinda went off. He told me, ‘That’s more than Army regs say you should. That’s unacceptable. Sergeant, you’re setting a poor example for your soldiers! Sergeant, what is your job?!!”
So I told him, ‘Sir . . . I’m the Mess Sergeant.’
Then the major’s face went blank and he was quiet for a little while. Then he told me, ‘Oh. I guess maybe you are setting the right example.’ And after that, he made a right-face and went to inspect the next guy in line.”
. . .
Personally, IMO the Major had a point. Think about it – would YOU really want to eat at a mess hall that had a skinny Mess Sergeant? (smile)
And, for what it’s worth: as I recall there was no mention of SFC Smith being over his DA screening weight in the IG Inspection Report.
No, I’m not making this up – this actually happened. I was there to see it myself.

