BEFORE SHE'S OVER

BEFORE SHE'S OVER

"Happy New Year, Hawkeye."

Major Benjamin Franklin Pierce couldn't look up from the kid he was operating on, but appreciated the sentiment. "Thanks, Ben. Dixie, will you close for me?" Captain Dixie McCall, whom Hawkeye often called his "Other right arm," nodded as she finished sewing up the young man's chest wound. Hawkeye looked down at him.

"Something wrong, Hawkeye?" Captain Ben Casey asked. "Did you lose your watch in a patient again?"

Hawkeye smiled from behind his mask. Ben was a good kid, intense but very idealistic; he reminded Hawkeye a lot of himself when he first came over to Korea…a lifetime ago.

"No; it's just that this guy looks a lot like someone whom I saved from getting killed once, back at the beginning of the war." Hawkeye nodded at a corpsman. "OK, Gage, take him out." The young blonde medic nodded.

"That's it, Major-no more wounded."

Hawkeye nodded gratefully at Dixie. "OK, ladies and germs, then I'll see the rest of you in Post-Op."

"Hawkeye's been here a long time, hasn't he?" Casey asked Dixie as they discarded their old scrubs.

Dixie nodded, somewhat sadly. "Longer than anyone else except for Colonel Winchester…fifteen years."

Casey whistled. "I hope I'm half as sane as he is when I go home."

"It hasn't always been easy for him…someday I'll tell you about it. Come on; it's time for rounds again."

"So you're from Wisconsin, huh?" Hawkeye asked the red-headed young man.

"Yes, sir. Milwaukee." The young man grinned. With his freckles, he still looked like a fresh-faced college kid, although Hawkeye understood that he and his friends, Lieutenants Malph and Weber, had been in Korea since '61. "A great place to be a teenager-before I left, at least."

"I'm sure it still is." Hawkeye patted him on the leg. "Take care, Captain Cunningham, I'll check up on you later."

In the Officer's Club, Hawkeye was nursing a beer while he read another letter from Margaret. She was doing well, from what it said, working in a hospital in the states like she wanted-she was happy. That should have made Hawkeye feel better, but it didn't. Bobby Vinton singing "Mr. Lonely" on the jukebox didn't help his mood, either.

"Hey, won't somebody put another record on?" Hawkeye complained.

"Oh, I'll do it, sir." A young Marine, whose unit was passing through on their way to the DMZ, got up from his table but promptly tripped on something.

"Ow! Watch it, Pyle!"

"I'm sorry, Sergeant Carter…"

"Never mind about the juke box, Pyle; I'll take care of it." Hawkeye watched with amusement as the man Pyle had called Sergeant Carter walked with a slight limp over to the juke box. Bobby Vinton was cut off in mid-song and replaced by the happier sounds of the Beach Boys.

Captain Casey entered the Officer's Club and joined him. "I saw you talking to that guy in Post-Op earlier," he commented. "Do you two know each other?"

"Almost." Hawkeye folded the letter and put it inside his Army jacket. "back when I first came over here, there was this young kid-he couldn't have been more than sixteen-who'd joined the Army to come over and kill commies, as he put it. He'd lied about his age to join."

"That wasn't so unusual back then."

"Yeah, well, I straightened him out. I wonder if he still hates me for it, though. Captain Cunningham looks enough like him to be his twin."

"Ah, gentlemen…reminiscing about old times, eh?" Colonel Charles Emerson Winchester came over to join them.

"We were until you showed up," Hawkeye gently chided him.

"Careful, Pierce, you may have attained my old rank but I'm still your superior officer."

"And you'll never let me forget it, will you, Chuckles?"

"I think I'd better head back to Post-Op," Casey said.

"There goes the future of medicine," Charles looked wistfully in Casey's direction. "Good Lord, Pierce, were we ever that young?"

"I don't know about you, Charles, but I was born the same way you are now-without any hair and talking gibberish."

"A Winchester never talks gibberish. We can always understand each other perfectly."

In another time this might have been the beginning of a long-running feud between them, but by now they had been friends long enough to let it turn into idle chatter. In spite of himself, Pierce was glad that Winchester had stayed on after Colonel Potter had finally gone home in '56. He was even a decent commander, all things considering.

The TV over the bar was on. Armed Forces Television was broadcasting the latest headlines from the states. There were more antiwar protests as the new year of 1965 began. Allen Ginsberg had been arrested again. Vice President Johnson was promising a War on Poverty; President Kennedy, who had been re-elected on a promise to end the Korean conflict, was promising to do so once again. Kennedy, who was more subdued since the assassination attempt on him more than a year ago, seemed to be using Johnson and Secretary of Defense McNamara as surrogates more and more these days.

"Things seem to be heating up back home," Winchester commented.

"They always are." Hawkeye thought about the last tape recording his Dad had sent him. Maine was at least pretty much the same, even if it seemed like the rest of the country was tearing itself apart. "I wonder what we would be doing now, if the war had ended when Eisenhower promised."

"Yes, well, Eisenhower lost that election, so here we are."

Hawkeye glumly nodded. He'd been a loyal Democrat back in '52. Of course that had been before he'd found out what a disappointment Truman had been in his second term. He'd even voted for Earl Warren when he won the Republican nomination four years later, but after fifteen years it no longer seemed to matter who was President-the war just kept on going.

Hawkeye decided that he didn't want to be depressed in public, so he decided to head back to Post-Op before going back to the Swamp for a nightcap. While in Post-Op, he chatted with Cunningham again. Cunningham-whom his friends called Ritchie-had apparently led a happy suburban life and had joined the Army along with his two friends after graduating from high school.

"I guess I always wanted to be an officer," he said. "I figured it was easier to go through ROTC than to wait to get drafted. My best friend, Fonzie, always joked that I was the only guy in a uniform he'd ever really respected."

"Fonzie?" Hawkeye asked.

"Oh, I meant Arthur Fonzarelli-the coolest guy I've ever known. Everyone calls him Fonzie, or the Fonz. They should have sent him over here-the war would be over in a week! But he's running a restaurant back home now." Cunningham suddenly looked wistful. "I remember when Al-that was the original owner-and Fonzie had it rebuilt, right before I got sent over. I sure hope I get to see it again soon."

"We'd all like to see home soon." Hawkeye sighed and left Cunningham to get his bandages replaced. Home, Hawkeye thought. When the war is over…whenever that was. Hawkeye remembered the old New Year's Eve toasts that Colonel Potter used to make, which always ended with, "And may we all be home before she's over." Well, he made it back, at least-just like B.J., Margaret and Trapper had. They all had their lives back and were waiting for him.

Maybe someday he'd be able to join them.

THE END