Good Humor in War
Be careful what you wish for: In Vietnam, a battalion commander learns that, even during wartime, it’s possible to have too much of a good thing.

In the spring of 1968, the 101st Airborne Division was engaged against north Vietnamese regulars and the Viet Cong in the northern part of South Vietnam. After a six-month stint as the assistant chief of staff, G-4, the senior logistics officer, I was given command of a battalion.

Roughly a month later, we were honored with a visit from the division commanding general, Maj. Gen. Olinto M. Barsanti, and Brig. Gen. George Young, commander of the U.S. Army Logistics Support Command in Da Nang, Vietnam.

We toured the base camp, and before they left, Young asked Barsanti if there was anything the division needed. Barsanti deferred the question to me. After a moment’s thought — the division was well supported — I said, “General, about the only thing I can think of that would be nice to have is some ice cream from Da Nang.”

We had Frostie Freeze machines, but the ice cream from Da Nang was mixed with coconut milk and famous for its taste. “That should be no problem,” Young said. “How much do you think you can use?”

Without thinking I replied, “Oh, eight or nine thousand gallons should do it.”

Young nodded and said, “Let me see what I can do.”

Three days later, I got a call from the Phu Bi airfield that there was a C-130 there with several thousand gallons of ice cream consigned to me. That presented an interesting challenge: What was I going to do with all that ice cream in heat that exceeded 110 degrees in the shade?

After several phone calls, two CH-47 Chinooks were sent to the airfield. They were dubbed “Good Humor Birds,” assigned call signs Good Humor One and Good Humor Two, loaded with ice cream, and dispatched to the outlying fire bases. As they approached the fire base, the pilot requested landing clearance, saying, “This is Good Humor One. Request all outgoing fire be lifted and permission to land. We’re loaded with ice cream.”

The war stopped — well, it took a quick break — as troops armed with steel helmets, entrenching shovels, mess kits, banana leaves, and just about anything else that could hold ice cream swarmed the helicopters. The birds repeated this at each fire base.

The scenario continued every few days for what came to seem like an eternity. As time passed, the troops’ grateful reception changed. In the final days of ice cream visits, when a Good Humor Bird radioed for permission to land, the most common response was, “What flavor do you have?”, which frequently was followed by “Permission denied!” Somehow, we exhausted the ice cream supply, and the Good Humor Birds were retired from service.