I Want to Tell…
Note and Disclaimer: I don't own the character of M*A*S*H (20th Century Fox and CBS do), but the character of Captain Jeanie Morrison – the main character of my M*A*S*H stories – belongs to me, so if you want to use her, please message me with permission first. Thank you!
October 17, 1951
My dearest daughter, Jeanie,
I'm writing this in a South Korean village called Yangyang right now, waiting for my ride to come to take me home to Tokyo, Guam, San Francisco and then to Bloomington.
This place is sure boasting of a new airport. The airport in Kimpo, near the 4077th, had been blocked off due to an impending enemy attack, as you all know most likely, so I've been taken here. I've got a chopper that will take me to Japan, over the sea, where I'll catch the next leg of my journey homeward.
It's been a few hours since I've seen you, Jeanie, but I miss you more as the minutes pass and for all the right reasons. It's been great seeing you there and having you work with me and the swell people there, although I've watched you trip and fall too many times. As my daughter (as you've told me you were many times), I expect you to troop onward, as you've always had. You've been through too much to give up now. So, don't let me receive a letter when I'm home, telling me about how something went wrong, because I'll go back to Korea and kick you in the butt (not just Radar's), if I have to!
The 4077th seems too much like a memory, Sweets, and I can't believe that I'm going home still. The year I've been here in Korea seems like a nightmare to me almost (home sometimes) and now that it's over, I somehow want to go back. Even when I was stationed in Tokyo for a while, I wanted to go back to work with all of you. Hell is hell, Jeanie, but you can't beat working with people who know what you're up against, have the willpower to keep going and smile while they're wistfully wishing to go back home, where's it's safe and there's no war…in their own familiar surroundings and being right in their own minds.
Well, I miss you all very much already and want you all to come home with me. I know you're all sure to come slowly behind me (unless it's you, which I doubt now), but I sure want this war to end and everybody to be happy again. I'll be watching you all from afar and writing to you all. Even if I seem busy, I'm not. Lorraine will make sure that the decisions of the house will still stand. I think she'll also be making me write, to tell you about the things at home and about Shannon, of course. Your mother's time with her is about up I've heard and her next destination is unknown. We'll see about it soon, Sweetie.
But that's neither here nor there. Right now, I want to picture you all as you were, the last time I was there at the 4077th. There are too many things I wanted to say too, but I can't, Jeanie, so bear with me and share, if you must. I wish it, but you can be private too.
I want Radar to be innocent still – that little monkey! I can still picture his salute mere hours before. It still makes me smile. He's like another son to me and I can't forget it. I want to hold my own son in my arms for the first time ever, but I can't forget my first one: Radar. There will always be a place in my heart for him, even though I'm trying to figure out what I want and I don't know what I want and he does. I'm sure that Radar will know what I want from Korea when I think about it often enough and hard enough.
I want to hear Margaret's shrill complaints and silly Army double-talk again, for some reason. Although I might not miss them (and trying to get another General to stop bothering us), I will always hear her in my mind, telling me how I mismanage the camp and how ineffective I am as a C.O. It sounds like Lorraine, for sure, but I know that my wife will talk of the house, and not about Pierce and McIntyre or about Frank Burns being hurt.
Damn, and kissing Margaret was simply amazing.
Did you know that her hair is dyed? It's true. Pierce told me!
I want to talk Frank down and get him to listen for once. He needs to calm down and accept that people are not going to like him if he continues to be snotty and ignorant before six o'clock. He needs to lighten up sometimes, but he does have a point, teaching us a little, unknown lesson: we all need a little Regular Army in all of us.
Oh, I'm not saying to go crazy and all, Jeanie, but to accept that we need a little organization in our lives. Frank may have been an easy target, but he truly is a model of something at least: the human heart of stone.
I want to tell Klinger to be more imaginative and give him some hope. He wears dresses to get out on a Section Eight for sure, but he can be more tasteful sometimes and get more material. Remember the time he went naked when General Barker came by? I don't think he needed to throw away his skirt and slip for it, but I still think he made a point: war is still hell. And that some men can't afford to waste it away on being in the stockade for twenty years…or feeling the wind on their bare skin.
I want to tell McIntyre to find some inner peace. He's a womanizer like Pierce for sure and he hides his feelings well through his jokes and being the partner-in-crime to the camp's most popular doctor in the O.R. However, in him, you see the eyes of a man who wants the peace and mind of a regular human being. He wants to have a normal life, but married to a woman who accuses him of cheating all the time (although true) doesn't help. He loves all those children dearly, especially his own. They can't help him in finding the purpose of life, but they can become part of its circle. He himself has to find it on his own though…without their help.
I want to tell Father Mulcahy that he's appreciated and loved in the camp. He's so minor and plays too little of a part in this camp that it's ridiculous. However, whatever he did in there that he did do was amazing. Jeanie, he helped the orphans – and us – try to find religion and God in a deep hole. He helped us to believe in the afterlife again and to find God in our own way. He made us more comfortable in our skins and taught us that the ultimate book – the Bible, remember now – could help us.
I mean, I can't agree with everything, but Father Mulcahy's a really good guy. G.O.D., remember?
Pierce…I want to tell Pierce many things to his face, but I cannot until later. But what I can say is this: he's a good man. He's bound to take care of you well, Jeanie, mark my words. Even if the child you had was not his (to be truthful, I think so), I'm sure he'll be the father that you want him to be and play the part well…too well. To tell him that he'll never be good enough for you, or that he'd better be good to you or else, is not enough. I only can, with a strange tear on my face, remember his fears, shining personality, morals, jokes and good humor. He may have been there the longest, but he's a good human being and will always be there for everybody: a rock in the storm.
As for you and Dean, Child…you both know everything. But, I never really thanked you both for everything that I've seen. You've both taught me a lot of things (other than showing me your great passion) and it's helped me. I can be youthful and be strong, be sarcastic and crazy and even be feisty and wild.
You've both showed me how the years have shaped you, how they've hurt you, and showed me what life can be about. Love aside, life is more than a journey. It's a bumpy road. And towards the end of the ultimate goal we should have achieved, we should have had one thing that would let us go of life: knowing that what we've done, what we've lived and what we've achieved, has made a difference and left a mark upon everybody we've known.
Well, there goes the announcement for the next leg of my way home. My chopper is coming in about ten minutes, Sweets, so I'll close now, mailing this from Tokyo when I get the chance to. Send my love to everybody and I'll send some to Lorraine and the children from you and Dean and the rest of the gang at the 4077th.
With love, Henry
