Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of the MASH characters. However, the situations and extra characters are all mine.
In case of confusion, every time you see the ruler line, it means the point of view has changed. It does it a lot in the story, sometimes in the same chapter, so if you know that, it will be easier to read. Thanks!
I jumped out of the jeep and gazed around at the dusty compound, sighing and shaking my head. Welcome to Korea, I thought to myself. I grabbed my olive-green bag and slung it over my shoulder with one hand while I tried to iron out a wrinkle in my skirt with the other. I looked terrible anyway so I didn't know why I kept trying to make myself presentable. I was tired, I was sure that my hair was a mess, my clothes were wrinkled, and I was so far from anything familiar that I knew I had no idea who I was anymore. Two weeks before I had been Linda Florence; born and raised in Massachusetts, got my RN and was a nurse in Boston before I decided to help out with the war effort. Now I was a nameless lieutenant at some MASH in South Korea, regretting my decision to help my country more and more.
I shifted my weight and watched the bustle of the small army hospital, the green tents and buildings standing out against the vivid blue of the clear sky. It happened to be a gorgeous day, but I wasn't really paying attention to the weather. The other nurses who traveled with me were titillated; all bunched up in a group, whispering and giggling as potentially eligible surgical staff waltzed past. I, on the other hand, wasn't here to look for a mate or a one-night-stand. I was here to work and save lives. Sex and love were not in my plans.
An odd little kid, I'd say about eighteen or nineteen, with glasses and clothes that were so big he swam in them shuffled up to us.
"You must be the new nurses," he said with a nasal voice that reminded me of a kid I used to baby sit in high school. "I'm Corporal O'Reilly. I'm the company clerk here. I'll show you all to your quarters." Some nurses giggled, some frowned, I just rolled my eyes and followed the pre-pubescent corporal to my new home for the duration of my stay.
That new home was a canvas tent just a few strides from the post operative ward. I opened the door and looked around, noticing that I wouldn't be alone in this tent. By the looks of it, the woman I was bunking with had been there for a while.
"Take a good look." I jumped at the voice and whirled around. A petite woman sat on a drab green bed just behind me. "This is going to be your home for a good, long time."
She smiled and stood up, extending her hand to me. "I'm Lieutenant Gardner. Sherry to those who know my first name."
Relief spread trough my whole body. Thank the maker, she has a sense of humor, I thought to myself.
"I'm Lieutenant Linda Florence," I replied.
"Florence? Like Florence Nightingale?" she giggled.
"That's right. 'Nightingale' has been a nickname of mine for a long time. I guess it's inevitable that I became a nurse, right?"
I picked up my bag and she pointed to a bed across the tent. "That beauty is yours."
"I can hardly wait to get some shut-eye," I said, the cot creaking dangerously as I threw my bag on it. A small mirror winked back at me from my bedside table and I caught a glimpse of myself for the first time all day.
It would have been an understatement to say that I looked terrible. My eyes were bloodshot with fatigue and were lying on pillows of puffy, purple skin. My shoulder-length auburn hair was beyond help, tossed violently by the jeep ride to the point of surrender. I shook my head in disappointment, wishing I had made a better first impression, but it was too late. Doing what I could to salvage my appearance, I pulled a brush out of my bag and began a futile attempt to restore some order to my hair.
I heard Sherry laugh behind me. "It doesn't help."
"What doesn't help?" I asked, trying to wrestle the tangles out of my hair.
"Trying to look human."
I turned around and sat on the edge of my bed. Seeing my confused look, she continued.
"It's no secret that this place is no Waldorf-Astoria. The food is terrible, the weather is either too hot or too cold three hundred and sixty days out of the year, and you have to learn to live like an animal. The work is hard, the pay stinks, and only superwomen could keep herself looking decent all the while."
I nodded and smiled. "Can you tell me more about what it's like here?"
"It depends on what you're here for."
"To work," I paused. "Isn't that what we're all here for?"
She laughed. "Boy do I wish I had that idealism," she said sincerely. "Most of the girls that hopped off that jeep with you came here for them." She pointed out the dirty window to a group of men sauntering across the compound. "They came simply to be close to soldiers. And most of the soldiers don't mind at all." She sighed. "Keep an eye out for one in particular. Tall, coal black hair, will charm you within an inch of your life, and you'll be in his arms before you can resist at all."
"Sounds like someone I knew a long time ago," I said, turning back to my bunk and unzipping my bag. "He was a doctor when I was a nurse in Boston. I was one of the many who fell for him, unfortunately, he was living with someone." I sighed, remembering him in explicit detail. Every hair on his head, every smile that shone at me, and every time he touched my hand. "He's probably married by now, living somewhere in Boston, happy, with a family." I sighed. "But it would be nice to see him again, even if it was in this place."
"Well, I hate to burst your bubble, kid, but we're not talking about the same doctor," she laughed. "This one is a permanent bachelor, I doubt he has ever come close to wearing a ring on his finger and probably never will. He's too in love with his one-night-stands to love someone completely."
"Well, he sounds intriguing. How will I know which one to stay away from?"
"Oh, you'll probably know him. His swagger alone gives him away." We both chuckled. "But just in case you don't, run when you hear the name Benjamin Franklin Pierce."
I stopped immediately and whisked around. "Hawkeye?"
"What's all the commotion about?" Hawkeye asked as Radar flitted by the tent.
"We've got a whole batch of new nurses," Radar replied through the airy tent flap.
"Brand new nurses?" Hawk asked, hardly able to hear the news on account of his excitement. "Hey Beej," he said, straining his voice over the sound of Frank's typewriter. "New nurses."
I grunted in response.
Hawkeye looked back at me and rolled his eyes. "Will you tear yourself away from your letter long enough to at least respond to me verbally?"
I just smiled and continued writing.
"New and improved nurses, BJ, fresh from the outside world." He glanced outside again, searching desperately for a new face of the female persuasion. "I bet the other nurses are already telling them of the mysterious stranger who comes to the beautiful and weary at night to save them from boredom and loneliness." He laughed and took a sip out of his martini glass. "Now where did I put that mask?"
"Can we have just a little bit of quiet please?" Frank asked as the clicking of his typewriter momentarily silenced. His lips, if any could be found, puckered and his eyebrows narrowed, giving Hawkeye an evil glance.
"I've been asking the army that since I've got here, Frank, but they never answer my calls," Hawkeye said, glaring at Major Burns with all the contempt he deserved.
"The army has better things to do then to talk to a low-life like you," Frank retorted, looking smug.
"That's why they sent you here, Frank," I said casually, glancing up from my letter. "They wanted someone who can speak low-life."
"He lives!" Hawk yelled, bounding over to me. "Really, how many times can one man write to his wife in a week?"
"How many minutes are in a week?"
His brow furrowed and I could almost see the numbers floating through his head, multiplying and multiplying until the answer formulated.
"Ten-thousand eighty," he replied.
I smiled. "I figure I can top that, easy." He shook his head and took my wrist as if he was taking my pulse.
"There's no easy way to tell you this, BJ, but you're suffering from chronic matrimony. Worst case I've ever seen."
Hawkeye dropped my hand and walked back to the door, opening it. He stood on the threshold of our tent, no doubt trying to catch a glimpse of one of the new nurses. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Ever since his ex, Carlye Breslin-Walton, made her appearance at the good old 4077th his womanizing antics had become more intense, more urgent, more concentrated. He wanted to fill his life with the love that he craved but wouldn't let anyone give him.
It wasn't like Hawkeye Pierce was the only one of us who felt the persistent ache of loneliness, we all did. Everyone had varying degrees of it. I, for example, had a beautiful wife, Peg, and a daughter, Erin, back in the states. But Uncle Sam deemed that I couldn't be with them. Instead, I was half a world away, fighting a war I didn't start and for that matter didn't believe in. I knew the loneliness. I had felt it ever since I kissed Peg goodbye. Writing my letters home helped to ebb the pain but I never fully got over it, and never expected to until I was back in the arms of the two women I loved: my wife and my daughter.
"Well," Hawkeye said, beginning to bustle around the tent getting some refreshments prepared for our new nurses, "I think it's time for the welcome wagon to make its stop at the nurse's quarters. You up for it Beej?"
"Give me a few seconds to write 'I love you with all my heart, soul, and every other organ, tissue, and spiritual matter in my body' and I'll be about ready."
"You hopeless romantic, you," he said, picking up his cask of home made gin.
"Hopeful romantic, Hawk," I countered, placing my letter gently on the table beside me and picking myself up from my chair. I threw on my shoes and followed Hawkeye out the door.
We stepped into the sunlight and reveled in it for a moment.
"I can't believe the army ordered a pretty day for us," he said, basking in the warmth of the sun.
"I hope they tell us what we're doing right so we get more out of good behavior," I said, shielding my eyes from the brightness as a figure came running towards us.
"Radar, what's the rush?" Hawkeye asked.
"Choppers, sirs," he yelled as he passed by. A moment later, sure enough, I heard the blades of the helicopters rhythmically pounding at the air, no doubt rushing countless wounded kids directly to our doorstep.
"It's a good thing Korea delivers," I said, running towards the ambulances pulling up in the compound.
"After OR remind me to cancel my subscription," Hawkeye yelled back.