The Chameleon
Note and Disclaimer: Haha, yeah, I will never own M*A*S*H. Please enjoy part twenty-two of "By the Graveside". This one will be interesting…
He wasn't quite like the wind until a job was finished. Indeed, the man called the chameleon was more like a blender of colors that flitted away when the opportunity was right. His entire being could entwine with his surroundings and nobody would know better. And before they knew it, there was nothing they could do except face him. The chameleon had them bent to his will and they would admit to anything, including being Whistler's Mother.
The chameleon had been known as many labels in his life, so much so that he could not quite recall his actual name. What he recalled was that he was a true patriot, born and raised under God and apple pie (he would have said his mother, but he turned her in for being a Fascist two wars ago). He joined the Army years before this Korean mess began. Twenty years pass and there he was, standing before Henry Blake with a broken arm and multiple identities.
And that was where the files began. Blake was a man who annoyed the chameleon enough that he constantly was behind bushes, boxes and tents watching his every move. That colonel always stood back and watched his comedian unit break down the American Way of Life. Blake allowed the shenanigans to go on. That was something the chameleon could not stand.
The list of offenses was long. Blake didn't care if some North Korean Commie was treated before an American soldier. Personnel were pranked and were out of uniform too. Guns disappeared from the base or were turned into water guns. Adultery was rampant and fraternizing between officers and enlisted personnel were common. The war was made into a joke.
Those incidents made the chameleon conclude that Blake and his camp were Communists. He thought the 4077th worthy of Senator McCarthy's interrogation and desired to escort them to the government on a silver platter. Thus, spying on Blake and his people began. While many people had come and go from the camp (and all of them on the hit list too), few caught the interest of the chameleon as much as Blake.
The chameleon had picked up a lot of information about Blake, including but not limited to:
~A financial history that was spotty and quite chaotic. Blake's wife always sent him the checkbook and bank statements in the mail, asking him to sort it out. Blake could not make heads or tails of the situation. This would muddle any possible financial connections to the enemy.
~A preference of friends over ranking personnel. Blake chose Captain Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce over Major Frank Burns to become Chief Surgeon of the 4077th. Burns was an idiot surgeon, but a good American and higher-ranking than Pierce. Blake was playing favorites and chose the one he was buddies with…and the one who was also tagged as a Commie.
~Always being disoriented and disorganized. Blake liked having people control him, like his wife. At the 4077th, he had many who fulfilled that role while he drank and pretended to be confused. The leader of them was one Corporal Walter "Radar" O'Reilly. He was a sneaky kid, all right, but he ran the camp like an officer and always got away with everything too. How much Blake allowed to pass was another question.
This spying continued on and off until the chameleon was sent elsewhere. However, he always kept tabs on the 4077th comedians. He was almost done with their wartime antics and was pursuing them in a civilian atmosphere when he recalled his last mission. There was the matter of Blake. The chameleon had nothing to lead on until he combed the Army files.
After his discharge, Henry Blake was rumored to have been killed, shot down in his plane over the Sea of Japan. The chameleon who was supposedly named Colonel Samuel Flagg did not have the chance to complete his file on Blake and not have proof until now, when he snuck into the sleepy town of Bloomington.
In doing so, Flagg dug out the body by moonlight and studied it until he was satisfied. After all, there had been bigger fish to fry than chasing after some drunken Commie since Korea was such a hotbed of discontent. Ensuring Blake was dead was one chore Flagg relished more than anything else. This pleased him.
He deserved his just desserts.
Flagg swung the camera out of his back pocket one more time. He took a few pictures of the stone and straightened it out. He then began the process of putting the coffin back in its final resting place. Definitely, Blake was dead. Flagg did not doubt that the body was that of the colonel.
When the task was completed, Flagg swung the dirt over the wooden structure with a shovel. All night, he labored until just before dawn. Finally, when everything was set back to what it used to be, Flagg covered the bald spot on the ground with a fake patch of grass and reset the decorations. Nobody would know better that he was here.
After all, he was like the wind. He can't be seen coming or going.