Frank, Interrogated (Guerra de Nervios)

A Sequel-Continuation-Ish to The War Makes No Apologies

Okay, so I was sort of semi-convinced to keep The War Makes No Apologies going by Tirathon. It now returns for as long as I get told to write it and/or have ideas and/or don't get kicked out of the public library. (That's why Apologies took so long, I moved house and lost the Internet in the process. I didn't forget this stuff, honest!) Please review. Flames extra welcome, my ego needs deflating.

A/N: If anyone has better title ideas, sing out by all means. This was the only thing I could think of bar "Insert Relevant Title Here."

Part 1 - Letters

Dear Louise,

I sincerely apologise for my lack of letter-writing. You realise we've been extremely busy here, those Commies keep shooting at our brave soldiers. Yours truly has successfully operated on many a decorated American! Of course, the two degenerates I am forced to endure continue their nasty, snide remarks. I'm learning to bounce off it, Louise. I am rubber and they are glue. Hee hee!

Did I tell you about a couple of weeks ago? All I did was take a leisurely walk around, and – er – out of camp, I come back, nothing's happened to me and now they… they want to court-martial me! I haven't done anything wrong, Louise! Honest! They have it in for me. Pierce and McIntyre. They want nothing more than to see the end of Major Frank Burns. (That's me, darling.)

I swear, honey, I can feel your love all the way in Korea. Please write, I really do read your letters.

Your dearest,

Frank xxx

"Ah, Frank, writing General MacArthur again, I see?"

"Giving him some war-fighting tips? Not that he needs any, he's already messed up this 'police action.'"

Boy, was I fed up with Pierce and McIntyre. Those two had ALWAYS had it in for me. Even when Pierce put something funny in that Still and started being nice, underneath it all he felt no different. Why should he? Everyone needs someone to hate… for just about everybody, that someone was me. Not even Margaret was on my side.

"Oh, go fish, you… you…"

"Frank, you've already called us you-yous. Why can't you be a little more creative with your insults? Or is that too much for you?"

"Pierce! I… I won't stand for this! I don't have to!" I stood up, clearly incensed, and made for the door.

"Where do you think you're going? Major Houlihan's tent has a sign on the door reading Do Not Disturb."

I stopped. "It does? But she… I… How do you know I was going to Major Houlihan's tent?" I looked around frantically. Who could be there? "All right, who's visiting?"

"Oh, just an old, er, friend of Margaret's. She invited him in." I couldn't believe McIntyre's casual tone. I wanted to… to punch him! How dare he speak about Margaret that way! Even if she does hate me…

"We-ell, did she now? We'll just have to see about that! It's against regulations to-"

"Attention, all personnel. Attention. Incoming wounded. All personnel report to the compound."

"To what, Frank? Socialise with a woman of the opposite female sex?"

"All right, break it up, Trap… Frank." Pierce pronounced my name with a sneer-smile-curtness I couldn't quite place. "Don't forget, Frank, you're under house arrest." Sneer. "And don't touch that still."

"You can't order me! I'm a Major!" I shrieked, taking care to emphasise my clusters.

"I can threaten you as much as I please, Frank. Now you be a good little Major and behave. God knows you're probably doing these soldiers a favour."

"I… My skills are perfectly adequate! How dare you…" So much for me finishing my sentence. They'd already run out to the compound to greet our brave soldiers…and the odd Chinese commie.

So. I had at least six hours of daylight to waste: at most, two days. Undisturbed. All on my lonesome. With the exception of the MP standing outside my door to watch my every outside move. Damn the man.

What else was there to do? I didn't have anyone to write to except Louise and no one else ever sends me mail. The Bible was beginning to lose its appeal – after all, nothing new ever happens – and the only other literary material were Pierce and McIntyre's nudist magazines. Filth.

Hold on… there was the letter I put in my pocket, that I never got around to reading. Why would Louise be sending me another letter? Maybe she forgot she sent the first one and wrote everything out again. Haha, that wouldn't surprise me… Louise has never exactly been the shiniest cluster around.

I sat on my cot and began to read.

My dearest Frank,

I am sorry to bother you with another letter so soon after the first. Therefore, I resolve to keep this letter short.

About three weeks ago, I was invited to a dance at the local elementary school, to raise money for injured soldiers. I couldn't help thinking of you, and how much you would love the idea.

"Love the idea?" This woman's my wife? She doesn't know me at all.

A man by the name of Patrick Jones, whom our neighbours (remember them, Frank?) are good friends with, heard that you were in Korea and thought I could use a little company. Isn't that thoughtful of him, darling?

Yes. Lovely. "Hey, you're essentially single, wanna go dancing?"

Anyway, I enjoyed the dance immensely. Pat was such a dear man. He took me home afterwards, and called me regularly to see how I was going.

Last week, Pat made a proposition. You know, the sort you don't say no to. I was head over heels for him and couldn't refuse. I love him so much, Frank… it breaks my heart to ask this. You have no idea how bad I feel writing this letter.

You can't feel that bad, the man's just proposed!

Frank, I have decided to begin a new life with Pat and the girls. I feel that this is the best outcome for us all. After all, you never wrote me letters anyway… how was I to know your true feelings towards me?

Attached are the relevant papers from our lawyers. I would greatly appreciate it if you could fill them out and return them as soon as you can.

Take care in Korea – the girls can't wait to see you.

Louise

PS. Write back urgently – we have things to discuss.

She isn't…

Louise, my darling, how could you do this to me? How could she? How could Louise, the woman I married, the woman I never really loved anyway, just leave me like that! I mean… she gets half of everything! It's all in her name! She… she can't do that! And what about the girls? She could move to Alaska and I'd never get to see them again!

Ooooh… that Patrick character… I hate him! I HATE HIM! How dare he take Louise away from me? Louise was mine! I married her first! Why, if I ever lay hands on him…

Really, Frank, why are you surprised? Louise was lonely. You're in Korea. You never loved her anyway.

Staring at that letter… I was angry, confused, heartbroken. I had steam coming out of my ears and tears streaming down my face. I thought about keeping that letter for posterity… no. I'd stare at it every day of my life, lamenting what I'd done to cause Louise to leave me.

Trembling, I rose to greet the stove-fire. Over the months, it had swallowed so much – old editions of Stars and Stripes, bad letters from home, bits of Col. Blake's desk, World War II surplus mush we should be more grateful for. I stared and watched the flames dance as they swallowed the letter.

The letter to Louise I'd finished barely fifteen minutes earlier lay glinting at my desk. Instantly, I felt a surge of intense hate for that wife-woman. How dare she… and I'd even written a lovely letter back to her.

I swiped the letter and read over it one last time. I did too love Louise. I'd written it so. That bit wasn't a lie.

In it went. The flame devoured the paper, the edges burning and crumbling in an instant.

"Oh, Louise!" I shouted in anguish as my face hit the pillow.

……ooooooOOOOOOoooooo……

Please review and tell me if this is worth continuing. No idea when/if this will be updated; might be next week, might be next year. Damn the library. Note: I don't have a beta reader, all errors and mistakes are mine. I wouldn't let anyone else share my supposed spotlight. :D That said, suggestions are welcomed.