It was sheer good luck that Lieutenant Heyworth survived her jeep accident, but bad luck for the two goats in the flock that had run in front of her, and for 4077th, which needed every nurse they had. As it was, operating on one of their own had everyone in camp slightly on edge. Heyworth's broken ribs would heal but the pelvic fracture would take much more time, so reluctantly, Major Houlihan saw her off to Seoul, signed off on the transfer and requested a replacement ASAP, hoping for someone who could handle the work. Combat nurses were hard to come by, and training someone would take time, but at this point anyone with OR experience would do.
In a matter of a week, word came that a Lieutenant Olivia Granger was on her way. Her official records listed surgical assignments in both San Francisco General, and the main hospital in Seoul. Those were good enough for Houlihan. Colonel Potter signed off on the paperwork and it was a matter of waiting for the woman to show up as everyone tried to keep up with the ebb and flow of the casualties coming in. Being down even one nurse mattered, especially when the OR and the recover wing were doing brisk business.
In the meantime, nobody was precisely sure what had happened to the goats, but by complete coincidence there was barbeque on the mess hall tent menu two nights in a row.
-oo00oo—
As Major Sidney Freedman tossed his duffel into the rear of the jeep, he spotted a woman sitting in the back seat, her nose in a book. Her lieutenant's insignia gleamed on her collar and he noted that her long red-brown hair was neatly braided, hanging nearly to the end of her spine. Intrigued, he caught her glance when she looked up.
"Lieutenant. Are you heading out to the 4077th?"
"Yes sir," came her slight twang. "Jest waiting for the driver."
"Major Sidney Freedman," he held out a hand. "I'm heading that way myself."
She looked a little nonplussed, clearly expecting a salute, but after a second she set her book across her lap and extended her own hand. "Lieutenant Olivia Granger."
"Good to meet you. Surgical nurse?" He inquired, fairly sure of the answer.
"Yep," she replied. "Yourself, sir?"
"Evaluations," Sidney offered, not elaborating further. He was sure she'd seen the medical insignia on his collar and even though the field of psychiatry had come a long way it wasn't always appreciated in medicine, particularly in wartime. "Personnel, mostly. Perhaps a few patients."
The driver came hurrying up, giving both of them a quick nod. "All here and ready to go?"
Both of his passengers nodded; within minutes they were out of the motor pool lot and bouncing along a road that grew more rural with every passing mile. Olivia gave up on her book and closed it before slipping it to the floor of the jeep.
"If you don't mind my asking, what were you reading?" came Sidney's question.
She sighed. "Forever Amber. I'm hoping to pass it on when I'm done with it, maybe pick up some Zane Grey if I can."
"From Regency to the Range; that's fairly broad," he told her. "I'm more of a Robert Benchley type myself."
Olivia chuckled. "I can see that. I really liked his movie on how to sleep. Had my granddad in stitches, that one."
They chatted as the drive went on and Sidney found himself definitely attracted to this rangy Texan. She had a quirky sense of humor that appealed to him, and an independent streak that he thought would fit in well at the 4077th. With careful, roundabout questioning, he got around to asking her marital status. She wore no ring, but in a war zone that wasn't uncommon, and Sidney had learned long ago not to take anything for granted.
Olivia's face tightened for a moment at his query. "I'm a widow," she confessed. "'Bout five years now. "
"I'm sorry about that," he replied gently, giving her a moment to recover or shift subject
"It's all right," she sighed. "Straight outta the chute we weren't a good match. Probably shoulda gone back to my maiden name but his was nicer."
"Which means I have to ask what your maiden name was," Sidney prompted gently.
"Clowderbock," she replied. "It's all right," Olivia added chuckling along with him. "It IS kinda funny."
"It's memorable," Sidney agreed. "And you can always go back to it if you wish."
"Oh not in the Army," she shook her head making her braid swing. "Hard enough for a gal to get respect as it is without having a moniker everyone snickers at. I'm better off with Granger, believe me. So have you been to this post before? I've heard all kinds of stories."
"Most are true," he told her with a straight face and a twinkle in his eye. "And the ones that aren't are probably the circulating out of jealousy."
Her eyes widened. "Oh Lordy. Even the one about the exploding latrine?"
"Verified," Sidney murmured. "Several times, as I recall."
That led to a few other stories and by the time the jeep rolled into camp, Sidney felt sorry the trip was at an end. It had been nice just to talk with someone, especially a woman, without the weight of his profession lurking in the background.
"Well, I guess we'd better go see the CO," Olivia sighed, hefting her duffle. "Which way?"
Sidney pointed with his chin. "Colonel Potter's office is this way. Would you like me to get that for you?"
She flashed him a smile. "Thanks, but I'm good."
They walked over to the tent and Sidney was aware of curious looks. He let Olivia step in first and followed behind her. At the desk, Radar looked up and blinked nervously. "Lieutenant? Ma'am?"
"Olivia Granger, reporting in," she told him. "Is the colonel available?"
"Ah yes ma'am, I'll just let him know," Radar mumbled, blushing. As he scooted through the adjoining door, Olivia shot Sidney a questioning look.
"Shy," he offered. "But efficient and a good person to know, that's Corporal O'Reilly, company clerk."
"Ah," Olivia nodded. Then she was being ushered in and Sidney listened in as Potter rose to shake her hand.
"Lieutenant. Awfully good of you to step in for our injured nurse."
"Thank you Colonel, I'm . . . looking forward to it," Olivia told him.
"Well that will change pretty quick, but you're needed and that's a fact," Potter told her. "We're not fancy but we get the work done. I see you're from Texas."
"Yessir, little corner called Marathon."
"Is your nose twitching, Lieutenant?"
"Ah yessir. I smell . . . horses," Sidney heard Olivia admit.
"And how can you tell that?" Potter asked with clear amusement in his voice.
"Having shoveled up road apples for the better part of my childhood, I'm well-aware of their perfume sir."
"Farm girl," Potter chuckled. "What you're referring to is the byproduct of my pride and joy, Sophie. I take it you know horses?"
"That I do sir."
"Like 'em?"
"I purely do adore them, sir."
"Good. After you've had a tour of the camp and checked in with Major Houlihan I'd be happy to introduce you to the primary creator of said road apples. Welcome to our unit, Granger. Dismissed."
Olivia came past him again, looking relieved, and Sidney smiled. "Radar, if you'd take the lieutenant to Major Houlihan I'll let the colonel know I'm here."
"Yes sir, Major Freedman. Ma'am, lieutenant, right this way," Radar replied.
Sidney knocked on the doorframe and peeked in. "Colonel?"
"Sidney! Got word you were headed our way. Any particular reason?" Potter smiled and nodded for Sidney to come in.
"Evaluations," Sidney sighed. "Quick interviews just to make sure nobody's dressing as Napoleon these days."
"Klinger might make a dandy Josephine but can't speak for the rest of us."
Sidney flashed a quiet smile. "I know your staff was fond of Lieutenant Heyworth, and her accident probably still has a few of them unsettled. I'll take that into consideration while I'm here."
"Good," Potter nodded. "In the meantime I'm sure Pierce and Hunnicutt will be glad to see you, if only to take your money tonight at poker."
"It's nice to be missed," Sidney murmured, "even for pecuniary reasons."
-oo00oo—
Much of the camp was the same; the rushes and lulls in activity, the drab olive greens and mud-colored structures. Sidney had stopped in at the other M*A*S*H units and found the very same-ness a worrying comfort. The long-term effects of living in primitive accommodations while handling the most traumatic types of cases was bound to wear away at anyone's mental health, and Sidney knew it all too well.
He'd dealt with depression and anxiety, with suicidal situations and their aftermath not only with the wounded, but also with the personnel responsible for their care. Sidney understood that the extremes of stress tended to warp the people experiencing it, and that pressure changed personalities. Some people became more of what they'd always been: more tense, more impatient, more morose.
Others flexed to the opposite: the serious became jokesters, the profane became spiritual and the care-free became care-worn. Marriages fell apart under the weight of war. Minds fell apart under the weight of war. His job was to help people hold things together, or pick the pieces up as best they could.
Sidney sighed to himself. The 4077th was one of his favorite places simply because the people here did a better job of coping with life. They genuinely supported each other and still managed to deal with the daily horrors air-delivered to them at any point of the day or night. The gestalt worked here for one reason or another, and as a psychiatrist, he appreciated that. It was a bit of a respite on his circuit.
Without thinking about it, Sidney found himself walking towards the tent that sat on the outskirts of the operating room, feeling a sense of nostalgia and pleasure as the door flew open and the lanky dark-haired man ambled out, greeting him with a smirk. "If it isn't our favorite shrink come trick or treating early! Hold out your pillowcase and I'll fill it with neuroses. They're chewy and won't rot your teeth."
"Sharing is caring," Sidney replied. "The tent up the street is giving out complexes; if you hurry you might still get an Oedipus for your collection."
"I'll see if Mom says yes," Hawkeye grinned, and then sobered. "So what brings you here?"
"Just checking around," Sidney shrugged. "Heard about Lieutenant Heyworth and wanted to make sure nobody was having a hard time with it."
Hawkeye gave a little nod. "Good nurse; nice gal. She was friends with Baker and Kellye."
"Good to know. I came in with the replacement," Sidney replied. At that moment Olivia strode by, still being given the tour by Radar; Hawkeye watched with wolfish interest.
"Dibs," Sidney murmured quietly.
Hawkeye's head whipped around. "Do my delicate ears deceive me or did you just . . ."
"I did," Sidney replied, "just for the record I do have a libido; I just don't get much of a chance to use it."
"Practice makes perfect," Hawkeye agreed, his expression slightly grudging. "Fine, although I'd like to point out that you won't be here nearly as long as the rest of us."
"True," Sidney nodded, "but I'm going to try anyway. Where are your bunkmates?"
"Around," Hawkeye waved expansively. "I think BJ's doing post-op rounds and the less I know about where Charles skulks off to the better. Drink?"
"Maybe later," Sidney deferred. "Game on tonight?"
"Oh sure," Hawkeye smiled. "Five card stud, jacks or better to open, and no analysis during the ante."
"You say that now, but we'll see how you feel about it once we've made a breakthrough," Sidney murmured with a small smile.
Leaving Hawkeye, he ambled over to Post-Op, looking in on the rows of beds and the patients in them. Sidney kept out of the way, but listened carefully, aware he was trying to catch anything that didn't sound right.
So far so good; the usual quiet chatter of post-op. He caught Father Mulcahy's eye and exchanged smiles with the priest before moving to where BJ was looking over a chart.
"Sidney! Good to see you-don't read anything into that," came the easy greeting. "Social call, or something more?"
"Just making the rounds," Sidney assured him. "Heard about Heyworth, thought it would be good to check in."
BJ's good-natured expression flickered a moment. "Yeah. I know Baker's taking it a little hard."
Sidney nodded. "I'll check in on her. In the meantime I understand we've got poker tonight."
"Ah the friendly art of fleecing each other," came the soft chuckle. "I guess Charles is dying for a chance to take the dents out of his battered fortunes."
"Speaking of whom, where is he?" Sidney asked.
"Last I saw he was in the mess tent," came BJ's distracted reply as he moved to another patient. "See you tonight, Sid."
"Bet on it," Sidney smiled.