Surgeon, Not Chaplain
Note and Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own M*A*S*H and its characters and storylines (CBS and 20th Century Fox do). I just wrote this story, I swear! It's totally different from what I usually write. This is based on Goodbye, Farewell and Amen, when B.J. is in Guam, waiting for his ride home. How is he feeling? What is he thinking? Find out! Please read and review, this is my first story without my O.C.
I'm almost home, at long last. After spending almost two years in a hell called Korea, I'm finally going home: home to my wife and child and home to my practice.
Well, I don't know if I'll have the practice when I get back there, or if I'll be up to it, but it's still there, waiting for me if I want it. It's still waiting for me to pick it back up again, as if nothing happened, as if Korea had not happened, as if wounded boys came and went from my eyes.
But it did. It really did.
I'm sitting in this crummy Officer's Club in Guam. I'm almost home. I'm about a third home, I think, and all I can think about it being there for Erin's second birthday. But other thoughts keep popping into my mind. Like this: Why?
It's that place that I left behind and the people that were there. I left without much notice, running off to the chopper, to make it to Kimpo so I could be home in time. I didn't leave any notes for those who weren't there to say goodbye, especially my bunkmate, Hawkeye Pierce.
Hawkeye still hadn't returned from being with Sidney. As his friend for the time I've been at the 4077th, I should feel bad for him. I should feel regret, helpless even. But it's more than that. I feel more like a friend to him, a brother perhaps. And being with him for all those months has made me more than just bad, regretful and even helpless. It's made me guilty. I couldn't be there to help Hawk. I had to stand back and watch him suffer under the same war I had to, writing to his Dad. He had no family at home to speak of. He just had his father, while I had Peg and Erin.
And where was I in all of this? Swimming in my own misery!
Hawk was always there for me when I needed it. Hell, every time I got a letter that unsettled me, because I couldn't be home, he was there for me, helping me, telling me that it's not my fault and to move on, drinking with me to a drunken stupor once. And now, without words to say and without the ability to help him, I leave him forever maybe, before he even came back to the 4077th.
But I took that chance. I got my orders, asked everybody in the camp if it was ok for me to leave when I passed Erin's picture around the Mess Tent, and I went, confident that I was going to see my wife and little girl again. I went out with that chopper, grabbing anything I could from the Swamp, and left. And the last thing I saw from the 4077th was Margaret looking up, watching me leave, and Potter and Klinger by the door of the office, waving and smiling.
So, sitting here working on this drink, I think about how selfish I've been. Look what Hawk and Margaret and Potter and even Klinger and Charles had to go through! Poor Radar too, who had to hear Erin called him "Daddy" instead of me.
That one hurt for a while. And it also made me and Hawkeye rebuild the still in the Swamp.
Those were the good times, I guess. Being with Hawk was amazing, though. He made that place a little more bearable, made me forget where I was sometimes. Even being closer to him than our unique bunkmates made everything a little more bearable.
First, we had Frank Burns, also known as "Ferret Face". I knew that Hawk was still hurt over Trapper John, but we soon became fast friends, especially teaming up against Frank. We turned the camp upside down for a little while, but then, things always got serious. They got in the way. And things changed too quickly.
Soon, we had old Chuckles come in as a bunkmate when Frank went nuts in Tokyo and got promoted and sent home. I was happy he was gone, but Charles' arrogance, selfishness and snobbery sometimes (well, always) annoyed me and Hawk. We played pranks on him too, but it was not the same. We had a challenge. And sometimes, the challenge was not worth it anymore.
Nursing down my drink, I call for another and think back some more. I'm thinking too much in the past tense. I should be in the present, like how I will be seeing my Peg and Erin soon. I'll be there for Erin's birthday and –
Dammit, there goes an announcement. All flights in and out of Guam have been cancelled. The last of the hostilities must be still going on and the war must still be on and they want to be cautious. Oh, well. I'm over that now. My flight to San Francisco will be here within the day or so. I can just find a place around here and sleep for the rest of the day and wait. I can wait…
~00~
An hour passes and I am still in this Officers' Club, drinking and waiting for news on my flight home, seeing people come and go and wonder why they're not going anywhere either. Finally, after finishing up my last drink, I get up to check on things, only to find an M.P. in front of me. I didn't like the look of him being there, so stood there without running off, waiting for him to tell me his business.
"Are you Hunnicutt the Surgeon?" he asks me, toying with his gun on his belt.
I became alarmed. I didn't like the tone of his voice. It wasn't hostile or anything, but it sounded like he had been searching for me for hours and was relieved to find me. Me…who I just realized just might be going back to the same place I had just left. It sounded bad.
And I knew that I was going back, despite the guilt…the time…and the tears I had put into that place. No, I couldn't go back! They couldn't make me!
"Oh, no, not me, pal. I'm Hunnicutt the Chaplain," I reply, trying to weasel my way out of this. I'm too close to home. I'm not giving up this fight if I don't have to!
"Well, Chaplain, you'd better start praying for a miracle, because you're going back to Korea to do surgery."
The M.P. didn't take his gun of the belt, but it looked like he would do it if I wasn't going to cooperate and was going to plan on running off on him. It was as if I had been A.W.O.L. and that I was a dangerous officer.
But, why would I be considered dangerous? Well, I guess I'll find out later.
Then, another M.P. came up to us. I stood there, still not believing the news as he adds as he comes up, "Captain, your chopper back to Korea is this way. Colonel Potter needs the surgeons, and he needs them back and pretty damn fast."
I finally go to pick up the bag I left on the floor of the Officers' Club. The M.P.'s don't do anything, knowing what I was doing, I guess, and leaving me to get my belongings.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," I yell, grief hitting me right in the stomach. I wanted to throw up, but didn't dare. But the grief was there – missing Erin's birthday again – and, not for the first time, I curse the war and what it was doing to me.
Whyme? Why should I miss that day, the most important day I could have after coming back from the war?
Oh, dammit, I wasn't going to be home to San Francisco for my little girl's birthday. I was going to miss yet another birthday of hers. And I might miss another if this war keeps me around.
~00~
As I went to the chopper outside, to take me back to the hell called the 4077th, I think. I think about Peg, her shining blonde hair and gorgeous smile, and Erin, my little girl, seeing her last as a little baby. And I swear, for my little girl, that I will make sure I will never miss another anniversary, birthday or special occasion ever again. I will get home soon. I will support my family and not let Peg work another day in her life, if we all could help it. She won't have to be paying pennies for our home ever again. I'll be there to help her all the way.
That will be my only regret. My only other regret will be seeing Hawkeye…and saying how sorry I was to leave him like that. And I think it might make up for not seeing my family again.