The heat of September 1944 was especially punishing for the thousands of American and Japanese soldiers still fighting for every inch of Peleliu Island, just one of many disputed islands in the Micronesian archipelago. There, American Marines, as well as support troops and American Air Force teams lived in isolation, making it difficult for supplies, that were not vital for combat, to arrive. Fresh food, rest and good sleep were luxury items in the middle of the forest and cramped camps. The enemy was close there, but due to the stage of the war, the Japanese were more concerned with guarding the islets that took the Americans closer to territorial Japan and mainly did not expose themselves to combat as much, given the naval and air superiority that the Americans achieved until this point in the war. It was a time of rapid and aggressive fighting, followed by moments of pause and military inactivity.
In one of those moments, air squadron commander J. Hunter Reinburg had an idea to create something that could bring more joy to his combat partners. As a pilot of a Vought F4U Corsair, a legitimate and efficient dive bomber, Reinburg had not participated in many moments of action, since unlike the agile fighters that constantly searched for targets in the skies, the bombers of diving ended up having few targets and missions in the face of enemies held up and hidden in mountains and dense forests on nearby islands. Using half of an ejection tank, he made a kind of “panel” accessible from the side of the plane and placed a box of .50 machine gun ammunition inside, without the bullets of course, and taking advantage of the fact that they were waterproof, in which he left a mixture of coconut flakes and steamed milk (which is like condensed milk, but without the sugar). The idea was simple, when flying at high altitudes, he hoped that the mixture would end up becoming a kind of ice cream, something that everyone would enjoy.
All ready, it was time to put the invention to the test. Signaling that flight as a “test flight of the aircraft’s oxygen system”, Reinburg’s Corsair took to the skies, and when he was flying at 10 kilometers in altitude, he could see that on the island of Palau, right below his plane, there were still Japanese willing to use their anti-aircraft batteries, even though they did not have the range for such an altitude of their flight. 35 minutes into the flight, Reinburg landed and when he checked his experiment, he saw that it was unsuccessful. The result was a tasty cold mass, but far from what he considered ideal for what he was looking for. After experiment 1, it was time for a second attempt. Crediting the failure to the proximity to the engine’s heat, the plan was now different: the “system” would now go on the wings, increasing the number of ammunition cans and thus guaranteeing more ice cream at the end of the task. This time the test flight’s disguise was for the plane’s “supercharger”. After this test flight, the ice cream was finally “frozen”. To the delight of more than 100 men, the test was successful, but less so for our ice cream man Reinburg who believed it was possible to improve even further. Once again, the “occasional engineer” installed propellers on the front of the ammunition cans, thus ensuring the passage of the freezing air from the high altitude and finally reaching the island’s favorite ice cream, Peleliu.
Joseph Reinburg, the ice cream pilot.
Of course, this kind of thing wouldn’t go unnoticed and Reinburg received a message from his superior, Colonel Caleb Bayley saying: “You don’t fool me! I have spies! Come to my HQ tomorrow and bring me some of your product!”
“Operation Freeze Flight” was not exclusive to the Pacific. During the war there were reports of ice cream men in B-17 bombers and even a timid P-47 under European skies.