"It'll be a tight fit but I think we can manage it." Colonel Sherman Potter told the assembled camp from his little platform-really an overturned crate-that elevated him high enough for most of the camp to see. "Now I know that most of you are cold and tired so let's get moving.
"I don't think there's enough space to separate by sex, so we're going to have to rely on Post-Op's privacy screens and you good folks' sense of common decency."
"Is it my imagination or is he looking at me?" Hawkeye Pierce asked his friend BJ Hunnicutt and those closest twittered. One female voice said, "Wonder why."
"Come on, simmer down.
"Salvage what you can before it gets too dark. I want as many cots as you can find brought into my office and Radar's. The rest go in Post-Op. That's it for now. Get your fannies moving!"
"Aye-aye, sir!" Hawkeye shouted, snapping a brisk but ridiculous salute.
***
"Can you believe that crummy storm, coming and flattening the Swamp just when I had the dust bunnies housebroken." Hawkeye complained to BJ as they sifted through soggy, broken down remains. "Looks almost like it was shelled, except it's wet too."
"I found my shaving mug," BJ called, stooping to grasp the handle partially obscured by a jumble of clothes. When he pulled, though, only half the mug came with the handle. "Part of it, anyway."
"Most of the stuff in my locker's okay!" Hawkeye said. "Now I wish I'd kept more stuff in it."
"Ah, the contrition of a slob."
Hawkeye stuck his tongue out at BJ.
***
In the Post-Op, the two patients-some broken ribs from a fight at Rosie's bar and an appendectomy-were moved side by side at one end, the remaining cots pushed together, and they managed to fit three more beds on one side and two more on the other.
They put Potter's desk against the wall, wedged twelve cots in there, and eight into Radar's office. Then they began to hang hammocks.
"Who decides the sleeping arrangements?" Hawkeye asked Potter when he met him outside Post-Op.
Potter cracked a tired smile. "Not you."
"Aw darn. You never let me have any fun."
"As soon as I have some, you can have some, how does that sound?"
Hawkeye sighed dramatically.
"I'm putting Father Mulcahy in charge of the sleeping arrangements, if you must know. So far I've hear the nurses are getting my office and Radar's. Major Houlihan will be posted as a guard."
Hawkeye thought for a moment. "There are more than twenty nurses." He grinned.
A variety of expressions flitted across Potter's face, from God help me, to one that looked like it would have been painful for Hawkeye had he carried out the thought behind it, and then Potter simply walked away.
***
It was well past dark by the time everyone had assembled in the Post-Op. Mulcahy was walking around with a clipboard, counting bed and people and muttering "Oh dear,"
BJ and more than a few other people were laying freshly washed unmentionables on and around the stove in hopes that they would be dry by morning.
Hawkeye was chatting with a cute little red-haired nurse, until Major Houlihan singled her out to change Corporal McTavish's appendectomy dressing.
Potter and Radar stood off to one side talking earnestly, and Nurse Kellye, Klinger, and Igor were walking through the group passing out glasses of milk and various finger-food type rations, since the mess tent and the kitchen had faired as well as the tents.
"All right, listen up," Potter called out several times.
"Quiet!" Radar yelled.
"Thank you, son.
"Now folks, Father Mulcahy has the sleeping arrangements ready here," He nodded to the priest and stepped back.
"Well, I think I have them," Father Mulcahy looked at the group and down at the clipboard and shook his head. "All the nurses will have Colonel Potter and Corporal O'Reilly's offices as dormitories, of sorts."
"Thank you, Father," Major Houlihan called out.
"All except two," Mulcahy added.
"What?" Margaret burst out.
"There simply isn't the space. Two nurses will have to sleep out here." Mulcahy looked rather uncomfortable. "I'll leave it up to you to decide who."
"Well I'll be one of them," Margaret said, "Girls, I'm afraid one of you has to sleep out here as well."
"I'll do it, Major. I trust our doctors-"
A loud guffaw erupted from somewhere in the crowd.
"-and you can trust me," Nurse Kellye finished.
"Fine. Father?"
Mulcahy scribbled something on his clipboard and nodded. "My goodness, I've never planned a slumber party before. Certainly not one so large."
"You're doing fine," Klinger shouted encouragingly.
"Thank you, my son. Now, the rest of you can fight it out-figuratively, of course-amongst yourselves about who gets what bed. Please be mindful of age and rank." He gave the group a benevolent smile. "Remember, 'Do unto others as you would have others do unto you.'"
Mulcahy stepped back and Potter took center stage again. "Since the latrines went down with the rest of the tents and smaller buildings, we're set up a temporary rest facility out around the corner. Ladies use the one on the left; you men use the one on the right. Makes it east to remember, Ladies and Left both begin with 'L'.
"I know it may be tempting to just go out and use nature's latrine, but keep in mind that we live next door to a minefield. And one never knows when a sniper may pay is a visit."
"Jeez, what a way to go," Radar said.
***
Margaret and Kellye chose beds nearest Potter's office, right across the aisle from the two patients. Then came Colonel Potter, since Margaret told him that he was one of the two men in camp she would trust that far.
"Why, I'm flattered, Major." He told her. Radar insisted on having the next bed, and then, again at Margaret's insistence, came Father Mulcahy. And next in line was Hawkeye. "You keep your eye on him, Father," Margaret ordered the tired-looking priest.
"Aw come on, Margaret, you're perfectly safe." Hawkeye protested. He flopped down on his cot and stretched his lanky body out as far as it would go.
"If it's all the same to you, just lay there and shut up." Margaret said.
Klinger clambered up into one of the hammocks and swung it a bit. "This is great, Colonel. What does a guy have to do to get one of these in his tent?"
"Right now I don't know, and I care even less."
"Hey Charles, why don't you try a hammock." Hawkeye called to his tent mate, who had laid claim to a cot across the hall and about halfway to the other end.
"I am not a chimpanzee, Pierce. I prefer not to swing while I sleep."
"It's just like being in a cradle." Klinger said.
"Infantile minds," Winchester muttered.
"Can it." Potter said.
"Sir?" A private came to Potter's cot and saluted, looking as if he was afraid that Potter would bite.
"What is it, son?"
"There aren't enough beds."
Potter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "All right, time to do a little carpentry. Klinger, Radar, Pierce…"
"Yeah, we're coming," Hawkeye said as he got on his knees and clambered off the end of the cot.
This wasn't the first time they'd had to make bunk beds and everyone pitched in, including Major Winchester. After Potter told him that if he didn't, he would be calling Radar "Sir."
They worked out new arrangements, Hawkeye and Father Mulcahy among those reaching new heights. Then they began the slow, turn-by-turn process of before-bed potty trips. Finally almost everyone was bedded down.
Mulcahy had made it up into his bunk and was trying to get comfortable on the second story when they all heard a creaking sound, then a scrape, and Mulcahy's bed collapsed onto the one beneath it.
"Oh gee!" Radar yelped, leaping out of the bed beneath Hawkeye.
"Was there anybody in that one?" Hawkeye yelled, trying to get down with as little movement as possible.
"No there was not!" Potter bellowed, striding down the alley. "That was mine. Who in the name of Sam U. El. Hell put that one together?"
"That would be me, Colonel Potter," Winchester said from across the hall. "I just did the one. I told you I had no business doing such work. We-"
"Stuff it! Mulcahy, are you all right?"
Radar and Hawkeye assisted the shaken priest to his feet, and Hawkeye supported him until he regained his land legs. "Does it hurt anywhere?" Hawkeye asked.
"No, I'm fine…I just…just…oh dear." He kept his grip on Hawkeye's shoulder.
"Get that mess cleaned up and put another bed together. Someone who knows what they're doing!" Potter got on Mulcahy's other side and he and Hawkeye helped him to sit on Radar's bunk.
Mulcahy looked up worriedly but Potter patted his arm. "Don't worry, someone with a bit more competency put this one together."
"Thank you, sir!" Klinger called out.
"You'll be alright," Potter assured Father Mulcahy.
"Th-thank you, sir. I'll be all right in a minute."
Hawkeye sat with Mulcahy while Klinger, Potter, and another corpsman put erected another bunk bed. "Solid as a rock," Potter assured Mulcahy.
"If you say so, sir." Mulcahy said and climbed gingerly up into bed.
***
Things began to settle down again, and Hawkeye decided that as long as he was already up he'd take a trip out to the sandbox.
He walked out around the building and was surprised to see Nurse Emma Rawlings sitting on a crate, arms crossed against the damp night air, like she was waiting for someone.
Hawkeye smiled. "Hi."
"Oh, hi Hawkeye."
"What are you waiting for, 'cause I don't have anyone waiting for me."
She shook her head. "Just waiting for one of the girls to come past."
"If you need something maybe I could get it for you."
"No."
"Come on, I'm at your service."
"Well, could you go get one of the girls for me, then?"
"Sure."
Hawkeye headed back inside, and caught Kellye. "Emma needs a little help."
"Hunh?"
"She's sitting outside waiting for one of you ladies."
Understanding crossed Kellye's face and she nodded. "I'll take care of it, doctor."
Hawkeye headed back outside and smiled as he went past Emma. Kellye was coming behind him.
A little later, Hawkeye was getting ready to climb back up into his bunk when Nurse Emma came through and smiled at him. He returned it and heaved himself up into his bunk.
"All right, boys and girls. Is everybody ready for lights out?" Potter asked the assembly.
There was a chorus of "Yes."es from around the room.
"Okay then. Lights out!"
***
The next morning over a stand-up breakfast of canned milk and thinly sliced Spam on tinned saltines, Emma came to Hawkeye and offered him a hard candy. "Thanks."
"Thank you." Hawkeye downed the last swig of milk and popped the candy in his mouth. "Mmm, cinnamon."