Series - M*A*S*H
Rating - TV14 Like an episode of M*A*S*H.
Warnings - None.
Disclaimer - I don't own anything and am making no profit from this.
Summary - A series of M*A*S*H* drabbles showing various character's thoughts.
Author's Note - Feel free to read and review. Suggestions on how I can improve my writing are always appreciated. Good, bad and flaming reviews and comments are all equally welcome. Please message me if there are spelling and or punctuation errors to correct.
Word Count - 1110
"Major, why are we doin' this now? If Colonel Potter walks by and sees that I have these here jeeps in pieces he'll have a cow!" Rizzo complained to Charles, who was sitting on top of the front seat of the jeep, his mind clearly somewhere else.
"Private, just do as I say, dismantle this jeep and place it onto the sheet." Winchester said as he twirled a windshield wiper in his hands. "Look at what you can do with this marvelous machine, you can take it apart, swap old parts for new and it will go on living forever."
It feels as if an eternity has gone by, almost our entire lives we have been ripped from each others arms by one war or another. You would think that after killing over ninety million people that at least one person could have come up with a way to put an end to all of the death and destruction and bring our boys home where they belong! It's never easy to be apart from those you love, but it is even harder knowing that you might never get to see them again. Oh Sherman, please come home! I love you.
Tokyo, that jewel of the orient! Oh, how I wish I could return and be delivered from this muckhole that barely passes for a medical facility. I can feel my skills of delicate expertise wasting away as I am forced to perform under such taxing circumstances time and time again. Not to mention the lack of decent nourishment, the bitter cold followed by scorching heat, but worst of all would have to be the company! Oh how I loathe Pierce and his sidekick Hunnicutt. Of course what can one expect from a pair of small town bumpkins like those two!
If Mildred only knew how much I miss her. It's been a year since I've seen her last and not a day has gone by that I haven't thought about her. If it wasn't for her, I don't know where I'd be right now. Sure, I'd probably be here in Korea, but I wouldn't have the things I do now. My daughter, Evy, my granddaughter Sherri, my grandsons Correy and Stuart. When I get home the first thing I'm gonna do is tell them how much I love them. Why wait! "Radar get ahold of the operator in Hannibal, Missouri!"
"How can they subject us to this lousy Army food? It's torture! They should award the Medal Of Honor for eating this stuff, for bravery above and beyond the call of duty! Oh how I yearn for a Hungarian hot dog from Tony Packo's, the sound of it sizzling on the grill, the delectable scent of it wafting in the air, the first bite as the chilli drips down on your shirt. When I get out of here the first thing I'm gonna do is go down there and spend the whole entire day eating real food for a change!"
"It's a nightmare, I don't know how much more of this I can take, Sydney." Hawkeye said as he hung his head and rubbed his hands together.
"Well, Hawkeye, it seems to me that the problem isn't the actual surgery, what's bothering you, is how you reconcile the effects of the war." Sidney said calmly.
"I don't think I ever will. Yesterday I operated on a Korean girl who was caught between our guys and a sniper, how is anybody supposed to reconcile with that?" Hawkeye said as he looked at the major wearily.
"One day at a time."
"You know, Edna, every morning when I come out here in the dark to milk you, I can't help but think about all of the animals I had to leave back in Korea. They were my animals too, ya know? Babette, Fluffy, Daisy and all of the others. I really miss them at times like this. Sure, times are tough right now but from what I understand this Park Sung is supposed to be a real swell guy and he knows more than a thing or two about how to get this farm back on its feet again, you'll see."
Will she ever know how much I wanted to be there? To watch her take her first steps, to hear her first words, to just be there? If only the Army hadn't drafted me! Isn't it enough I had to miss my little girls first birthday, my first anniversary, what should have been our first Christmas together? To top it all off my Peg has had to take a second job to pay for our mortgage that should be a distant memory! Oh if only I were home with Peg and Erin none of this would be happening right now.
How difficult would it be for them to invite me to one of their little late night parties? I take off my uniform when the day is done just like they do. Margaret thought as she sat alone in the mess tent.
"Major Houlihan?" Nurse Baker inquired, startling Margaret out of her thoughts.
"Yes, Baker, what is it?" The Major asked, vaguely hopeful.
"Your wanted over in Post-O.P." Baker said before heading back out of the mess tent.
Pity, I'm not wanted elsewhere. Margaret lamented bitterly before letting out a heavy sigh and heading over to where she was wanted.
Dear God, the woman is at it again, raving for the entire camp to hear! Why doesn't she just get it over with and kill the poor boy and save him the trouble? Between kitchen duty, and restocking the O.R., she is going to work him into an early grave!
"What are you staring at Major!" The head nurse yelled, making apparent her displeasure.
"Nothing Major Houlihan, just lost my train of thought." Charles said as he turned to leave the mess tent.
"Wouldn't be the first time!" Margaret quipped before returning her attention to the private before her.
Who is it that everyone always comes and complains to? Me!
They whine and carry on about the food, as if I am the one who picked it. I can only serve what the Army sends me but that thought never crossed their minds? Do I ever hear so much as a single word of thanks from anyone for cooking and cleaning up after them? No.
"Private, I need you to go and fetch something from the supply room." Igor heard Major Houlihan say as he finished lugging a stack of metal trays into the mess tent.
"Yes, Major Houlihan."