Bonnie stepped off of the helicopter, her dark chestnut hair whipping across her face. Ducking beneath the rotating blades before they had a chance to chop her head off, the surgeon waddled towards the hanger. Gravel and dust danced in a complicated pattern in her vision. Gasping audibly, she rubbed her dirt-encrusted eyes and turned her back to the wind. A moment later the power on the copter was shut off and the pilot joined her.

Pulling off the headphones, he shielded his eyes from the spray and grabbed her elbow to steer her through the hanger. "This way, captain," he said gruffly, pulling her through a few more doors and finally into the sun again. He tossed her bag to her and waved down a passing jeep. "Where is the 4077 mash jeep?" he asked. "There's a new surgeon for them." The corporal's eyes passed over Bonnie before turning in his seat, looking for the car that would take her to her new post.

"Um. I do believe I saw the men from that car," he explained, pointing at an empty transporter, "go into that bar." Bonnie's eyes followed the man's finger and sighed inwardly. Already feeling her temper beginning to show, she marched towards the bar, her brows furrowed and eyes narrowed. What were they thinking? Was this how to welcome a new surgeon?

Bonnie firmly pushed the door open after glancing at the sign placed precariously over the tent. There would be no one but high-ranking officers in this bar. As soon as she stepped in and closed the door, a puff of cigarette smoke was blown into her face. She angrily pushed her way past the officer and into the middle of the bar. Milling around, nearly fifty servicemen were taking glances at her and drinking from full bottles. Ignoring all of them, she glided over to the bartender. "What'll you be havin'?" he asked, setting down a shot glass he had been busily cleaning. Bonnie sat down at the bar beside a man with his back turned to her and pursed her lips.

The bartender leaned on the worn, wooden counter. Brilliant white teeth shone from underneath his graying beard. "Make up your mind, ma'am; I haven't got all day." When Bonnie didn't immediately answer, he stood back and crossed his burly arms. "What're you wantin', anyways?"

Bonnie stopped looking around and gazed with bated breath at the bartender. "I'm looking for the men of mash 4077. I'm the new surgeon, and I expected them to be waiting for me outside. A corporal pointed me to this bar where he saw them go. Have you seen three men come in recently?"

Not two stools away, a man with luminous black hair poked his head around the man with his back to Bonnie. "Did I just hear you say mash 4077?" he asked. Bonnie regarded the man with bright eyes, perhaps he was part of the company? He had beautiful pitch-black hair that rushed in waves over his head. Under side-swept bangs he watched her curiously with deep green eyes. Irish, she figured. She trailed her eyes lazily over his face and neck. His nose was hooked and long, and his skin was tan and taut. But the tan-ness of his skin was not from the sun, it was completely natural. And Italian, she added to her mental notes.

"Yes, actually," she replied, her tone friendly. "Are you one of the men who's supposed to come pick me up?"

At soon as she confirmed that she was the new surgeon, the man she was sitting next to turned to face her as well. He was tall and lanky, thin and strong-looking. His hair gleamed translucently in the light, his bright blue eyes soft and friendly. The man's face was friendly, his long jaw split from his face with a little smile. He was young and still full of life, the Italian seemed like he was sick of the war. "Lucky we found you," he said suddenly, the small smile cracking wider across his face. "Captain Butler? We weren't given a first name or a gender, so this is a happy surprise. "

Bonnie smiled, all three of them were ranked the same so she didnt mind the comment. Another head popped around in between the Italian's and the young man's. This was the youngest-looking man in the room. He had a baby face, and was even shorter than Bonnie. Light brown eyes widened when they saw her. His mannerisms were young and eager-to-please. Although this was a commander's bar, it was clear this man was not a ranking officer. He had a jumpy attitude and looked a bit out place. Everyone else was poised, yet he slumped and watched doggedly around to make sure he wasn't suspected. "Oh no! You're early," he said, his eyes screwing up painfully. "S-sorry captain! We should have been outside. Oh gosh. Can I take your bag?" Without asking, he lunged forward and pried her bag from her fingers. "Maybe we should go," he then suggested, holding her bag like a shield, his eyes still darting around.

"Calm down, Radar," said the Italian, slapping him lightly in the shoulder. "The captain might want a drink."

"Oh. Oh of course," he said, but shut up immediately when the bartender shot him an odd look. "Stop treating me like an inferior," he mumbled to the Italian.

"Well then, stop acting like an inferior," he said sweetly back. "Anyways. Are you ready to go, Captain?" he addressed Bonnie now, smiling lazily.

Bonnie slid off of the stool and nodded. "Call me Bonnie, never captain. And yes, I am most certainly ready. I'll follow you, Sergeant," she said, her eyes snapping wickedly to Radar.

"Sergeant?" he asked, but caught on not a moment later. "Of course!" and he bustled out of the bar, obviously happy to be out of such a crowded, egotistical room. Radar walked-jogged to the jeep and threw her bag in the back. The motor turned over with ease. Bonnie smiled softly, her eyes glazing over slightly. The Italian stood sandwiched between Bonnie and the tall man. His arms hung loosely by his side, one of his fingers playing with a fringe that had come loose from his army-issue pants.

"Eager, much?" Bonnie asked, regarding Radar's jerky attitude.

"Yes. He's been waiting a week for your arrival," answered the tall man. "I'm surprised he didn't notice your copter coming in. We nicknamed him 'Radar' for his uncanny hearing abilities." A moment later, he added "I'm BJ, but you can Captain BJ Hunnicutt for short. And this is Captain Hawkeye Pierce. We were sent to get you….actually we weren't but we went along anyways. We always like fresh blood."

"That and we get free drinks in the officer's bar," added Hawkeye.

"Naturally," Bonnie quietly agreed. "Hawkeye. Is that 'Hawkeye' from Last of the Mohicans? I used to love reading that book as a child." She smiled, catching the surgeon's eye; it was obvious she was right with her guess.

"Yes. My father only ever read that book, he nicknamed me Hawkeye after the Deerslayer," he replied, watching as Radar drove up to them. His demeanor became quiet, his eyes watching her with curiosity. "What was your name, again?"

"Bonnie Butler," she answered shortly, her weight shifting feet. Radar sure was taking a long time. When she looked up at the jeep, Radar was busy talking to an officer that had a general's star. "Um. Should we help him?"

"Nah. He's fine," assured BJ. "Bonnie Blue Eyes. Bonnie Butler. Like Gone With the Wind…"

"Sorry?" said Bonnie. She wasn't sure if she had heard him right. Gone With the Wind was easily her favorite book, and her namesake. She had such beautiful slate-blue eyes, her parents had named her 'Bonnie' and called her exactly what BJ had just said. "Yeah…my parents named me after her. It's their favorite book. They have four copies, and one of them is a first edition." She smiled at the memory. "It's kind of like a Bible to them, to come to think of it."

They stood in silence for a few seconds, and then Radar roared up to them in a jeep. They let her climb in the back first, Hawkeye settled beside her, and BJ sat up front with Radar to navigate. Before they set off, Radar started and turned around and ejaculated "Welcome to Korea, Captain!"