The Ice Cream Incident


by By Don Gourley, 2-C-1/501 1969


This is a REMF story, so apologies in advance to all whom I will offend by telling it.

In March of '69 I got a new guy in my platoon; let's just call him Pvt. Alpha. We were operating in the Phu Bai II area, patrolling and ambushing in the big graveyard outside the ville. Pvt. Alpha wasn't with us for 24 hours before Doc Abney sent for me and I found him and the HQ doc working on the guy, who was curled in the fetal position, crying and shivering, snot running from his nose into his mouth. Doc Abney and I agreed immediately that he was scared, not sick but the HQ doc was afraid it might be malaria and wanted to evac him that afternoon. I raised hell but CPT Gibson counseled me, saying that we couldn't take the chance; if it was malaria we had to treat it immediately and if it was b/s, well, we'd soon find out and know what we were dealing with.

He was back 72 hours later; no malaria and no other medical problems so now we knew and now CPT Gibson warned me that I'd better keep a close eye on Alpha. To get him in the right frame of mind, I had him walk point that night, with me as slack, from the edge of the ville 300 meters to a pre-ambush site on the edge of the graveyard. What he didn?t know was that during the previous three days we'd been all over this area and considered it pretty safe. It was his first time on point and when we got there he was already a basket case. Now it was time for a heart-to-heart talk.

Over the next couple of months I had no trouble with Pvt. Alpha; in fact I saw very little of him, as he went home on emergency leave twice because of problems there. Fortunately, things were pretty quiet when he was around but in general, he demonstrated that he was a disaster waiting for a place to happen. When he returned after the second leave, he had a rear job offer in hand from SSG Martinez, the 1/501 Mess Sergeant and CPT Gibson asked me what I wanted to do. I went ballistic, said he didn't deserve a rear job, there were 10 men in the platoon who did and so forth. Gibson agreed but also said that I knew damn well that Alpha was no good in the field and sooner or later was going to get himself or someone else killed. On that basis, I went along with CO; Alpha went to the mess section and I never thought of him again.

In August I became a remf with A Co and this meant among other things, that I got to eat in the mess hall. In fact, I got to eat in the officer/senior NCO section of the mess hall where to my amazement, they had DROs (that's dining room orderly). My first night there, as I walked through the door who do I see but Pvt. Alpha, big as life standing there looking at me. All I could think was, "Holy shit, this is the guy I threatened to kill who's now hanging with the druggies and bad asses in the mess section. He's probably told them about me and they've told him to roll a frag under my hooch tonight" I almost had a heart attack.

Well, I didn't have anything to worry about. Pvt. Alpha came over to me, shook my hand and thanked me for helping him out. Told me things were fine at home now, he loved his job and everything was #1 with him. Good news for me for sure.

In fact it got better. Not only was he a DRO, Pvt. Alpha was the Head DRO and he took good care of me. The Head DRO was the man who gave out the meat and the dessert. When I went through the line, he'd dig deep and give me an extra large slab of water buffalo. Then when the DROs served (yes, they actually delivered it to the tables) the dessert, Pvt. Alpha would bring me an extra large piece of cake, dish of pudding or whatever. Life was good and I certainly didn't want to offend him in any way so I ate what he gave me.

We all know that ice cream was a rare treat, which seldom seemed to get down to the combat units (I'm sure they had it every night at the higher Hqs and probably bitched about the flavors, too). When it did find its way to the sharp end of the stick, it went first to the troops in the field. Then if there was any left it went to the enlisted side of the mess hall and finally, if there was still some left, to the officer/senior NCO side. That's fair enough and when it did get to us, it was a major event. The word would go out and there would be 100% attendance at the mess hall that night.

This was probably some time in November; it was ice cream night and everyone was there. I can't recall all the names and faces but MAJ Reich was one or two seats down from me and Dan O'Neill was across the table. We quickly plowed through the buffalo and now it was time for the ice cream! The DROs began to serve it and the portions were tiny (SSG Martinez had already warned us that there was not very much left) but we didn't care, it was ice cream.

The guys at my table got their servings, one small scoop practically lost in those green plastic Army mess hall bowls when, as usual, Pvt. Alpha brought me mine. It was enormous, obscene even; there was ice cream piled to the ceiling and overflowing the sides; must have been 10 scoops there. Everyone's eyes bugged out and I started eating as fast as I could, knowing the shit was going to hit the fan any second and wanting only to finish what I could before they took it away from me.

Suddenly, Dan O'Neill jumped up and yelled something like, "Goddamnit Gourley, I'm sick of this shit," to which I replied, "What are you talking about O'Neill", except that with my mouth so full of ice cream I was pretty incoherent. Dan was on a roll, others were looking and commenting and while he kept yelling, I kept eating. He said, "Alpha was in your platoon wasn't he? He's always taking care of you and I'm pissed off. Look at this shit; we get tiny bowls and you get a huge portion of ice cream." Meanwhile, I was eating a mile-a-minute and figured if I had 30 seconds more I could finish it all, so I said the obvious, classic infantry officer thing to stall for time, "Fuck you O'Neill!"

There was by now quite a row going on in this normally genteel group and finally, MAJ Reich as senior officer present, decided to take charge. He told Dan to sit down then said to me in that German accent of his, "Vell, LT Gourley iss it true?" Everyone was listening; you could hear a pin drop. With barely a couple of spoonfuls left and still shoveling it in, I asked, "Is what true, Sir?"

"Iss it true that Pvt. Alpha vas in your platoon?"

Now finished, I was content and ready to take my punishment like a man so I said, "Yes sir." and waited for the explosion, which never came. MAJ Reich said, "Ach so, I see." And that was the end of the ice cream incident, although I don't think Dan and some of the other guys ever forgave me.

Don Gourley
2-6
C/1/501