In the Midst of the Swamp

Note and Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own the storylines and characters of M*A*S*H (yada yada, yada). I know everybody's done this story a million time before, but what if Trapper did write a farewell letter to Hawkeye, but he didn't find it because the Swamp practically ate it up? If somebody already had this idea, then I'm super sorry! Otherwise, please enjoy!

Hawkeye, ever the one to look for anything remotely looking like a female, was browsing through his collection of magazines when some paper slipped out of the one he hardly looked up. Granted, he had never seen it in that particular magazine before, but then again…everything seems to be hidden in the Swamp. Nothing escaped getting eaten in the green mess that the three surgeons created, Frank Burns' things included. However, Colonel Potter tolerated it and it never created a smell problem, so the men kept it as is, rodents and all.

However, the Chief Surgeon saw this differently. The papers he found seemed to be a missing gem that he never thought could possibly have happened: a letter from Trapper. It was the stupid note that he hoped that his bunkmate would have left, but thought he didn't. Missing his friend by ten minutes and never finding a single note (but receiving a kiss from Trapper, Radar in lieu of his missing comrade), Hawkeye had been more than pissed about Trapper leaving. Even with B.J. around to balm the wounds, he was still left without a friend who thought the exact way he did and acted with him without talking.

Now, holding the yellowing pages in his hands, Hawkeye could almost hear his friend's voice in his head (and probably laughing, as the same time, on how Hawkeye found the letter and the reason why he didn't). Without a distraction in sight, Trapper seemed to be right in front of Hawkeye. It was like he never left the 4077th.

The letter was obviously started many times over, but Hawkeye could still read everything.

September something, crummy Korea

Dearest friend,

Dear bunkmate,

My dearest friend in this shabby place,

Hawkeye,

Maybe I didn't start this letter right. Maybe I shouldn't be writing you a letter at all. But, I guess this is the right thing to do, since you're the best friend I ever had in this place. I mean, nobody can reach you in Tokyo (lucky you!) and Frank seems to be driving everybody away. Nobody in this camp wants to look for you, even on Frank's orders! Silly, if you ask me. Tokyo is our home away from home. I can't be looking for you there. We'll miss each other.

But, I do want to tell you that I'm leaving. Right here, in black and white. I've been discharged from the Army.

I thought that this would be the greatest day of my life, but it doesn't seem that way. I don't get to see guys blown up anymore. No more Army mumble-jumble and all that stuff. No more drinking all the time. No more ulcers. There's just life with the wife with the conspiracies and the kids who love me to death. And yet, they still love me.

How much more bad news can I take?

I don't know if I can adjust or not. I've been here for a short period of time and it seems like this is the life that I'm supposed to get used to. This seems to be the "big" thing that happened in my life and off I go, back to Boston.

It can't be this simple. I hated it here for the longest time and now, I get to go home. I got enough points to go home. Just like that.

It makes me nervous, with Henry and all. He was a good man. I miss him so much. I just don't know if I can still handle his death. For that matter…I don't think I can handle Frank and Margaret being in command of this camp for long! I don't know what else I can tolerate.

Hawkeye, I just don't want you to feel like I left you with nothing. I wanted to tell you how much you made this place more bearable to me. It was cruddy all the way around. But, between you and I (with Spearchucker and Ugly John, before Frank had them transferred with General Barker behind him and Margaret), we made this camp to be a little better than what it was supposed to be. We helped people cope better and laugh.

Hot Lips and Frank on the intercom? At least we knew what nickname to give her!

Sabotaging dinners and desserts? It seems like we were the Communists, by the way we sneak around the tents!

Rewriting the Ten Commandments? Hey, Father Mulcahy was proud of that!

You see what I mean? You and I have meant so much to each other. We wouldn't have been able to accomplish all this without the other. We complimented each other perfectly.

I guess that's the only real thing I'll miss in Korea. You.

Hawkeye, you've been the hope that I needed when I was in Korea. It was a hell that I wish we both didn't have to take on, but we did. While I still regret that you're stuck in there, I do whole-heartedly hope that you come out of there alive. We have yet to achieve all of the jokes and pranks that we can.

When the war ends, come to Boston. Let's have a drink and toast our losses.

Rest in peace, Henry, says we all.

Love,

Yours,

Oh, I guess I love you!

Trapper

Hawkeye reread the words over and over again as if it wasn't real, remembering everything that he and Trapper had ever done together. All those pranks, jokes and silly things they did actually meant something to him. And here, the Chief Surgeon thought that Trapper was blowing him off, actually giving him a shove back when he left. He thought that his "best" friend wasn't a friend like B.J.

I guess not. Trapper did leave me a lousy note and in something he thought I'd look. It was someplace where Frank wouldn't find it. But, the Swamp hid it from me.

Folding the letter carefully in half, Hawkeye stuffed the papers back into the magazine he found them in. Gently getting up and opening up his footlocker, he put the incriminating evidence of friendship amongst his clothes, hoping that, for once in its existence, the Swamp wouldn't touch that part of his life. For once, he wished that the tent was cleaner. He would have found the letter sooner and wouldn't have been cursing Trapper for never saying goodbye.

Closing the gap between dark and light, the Chief Surgeon sighed, finally sitting down against his cot. Thinking back to all of the trouble he and Trapper caused, he smiled, recalling all of the havoc and chaos. The camp was loose back then, he knew. Today, though, he can hardly see the groups of silly orgies, the partying and the drinking going on. Henry Blake was long gone, but his successor was worthy of the position he was assigned.

And Hawkeye knew that, if Trapper had stayed, he would have loved Colonel Potter. He would have mellowed out and kept his cool a lot better than most. He could have been helped, dealing with Henry Blake's untimely death…

But, the time was not ripe for asking what if something could or would have happened. It was time to stick to reality.

Taking some paper from the bottom shelf above his footlocker and a pen out of his pocket, Hawkeye thought for a moment and began to write on a letter of his own. He knew that this letter was long overdue and had to be sent out as soon as he could. He knew how to start this one, too.

Dear Trapper…