He brought back two hilarious stories of nudity from his time in West Germany. One involved a young woman in the group, whose mother was absolutely certain she was going to get raped and left in a ditch somewhere by those awful Europeans.
As is usual in such groups, they were constantly on the lookout for phone booths where you could make "free" calls by following a prescribed sequence of taps and bangs to get a dial tone. The young woman had a lead on one of the booths, and made an appointment with her mother to call her from the booth. She borrowed a rather expensive bike from one of the locals, and rode off to make her call. It was night time, and a thick fog had rolled into the city off the river, but she found the booth, and after tapping the receiver a couple of times, jiggling the cradle, and thumping the side, she was rewarded with a dial tone. She quickly dialed her mother to have a little chat and assuage her mother's fears.
As she's into the conversation, a man appears out of the gloom and fog and stands outside the phone booth. No big thing except . . . yeah, he's naked as a jay bird. She turns away, but he begins dancing and capering around, and she keeps turning away, not wanting to let her mother in on what's going on outside the booth. Naked man spies bicycle, and hops on, riding in circles around the booth. Young woman now keeping a close eye on naked man and borrowed bike, all the while trying not to betray herself to mother. She said the last she ever saw of the bike was it rolling off into the fog, these two pale buns/thighs going up and down as the naked man rode off on it.