P.L.A.G.U.E.
By
Matthew Spence
Day One
The first cases came in with the casualties. BJ was the first to notice something in the lab, in the blood samples they'd taken.
"What do you think it is?" Baker asked.
Hunnicut frowned. "I'm not sure. I think we'd better send some samples to Seoul for testing. Maybe try Tokyo General. We'll be able to work on this faster when Hawkeye gets back from R&R..."
Colonel Potter's Office, later that day
"I just got off the phone with I-Corps." Potter, always reluctant to break bad news, hesitated before going further. "We have been asked, in so many words, not to discuss this outbreak with the press or anyone except someone from Command."
"Well, what is it?" Margaret asked. "We've still got patients in post-op who have to be quarantined."
"Leave it to the Army to tell us bad news too late," Hawkeye added, but even he was more serious than normal; he knew they were dealing with something more than the types of flues and viruses they'd already seen in Korea.
"You don't suppose that the Chinese..." Charles suggested.
Hawkeye shook his head, wincing as he did so. "Nah, they wouldn't do something like that to a hospital. Why risk infecting their own soldiers? Besides, they know we give their guys a break."
Potter stood up. "Well, until further notice, our standing orders are to treat this as a local infection. One of their experts is supposed to be here tomorrow to give us the low-down on how to really treat this thing." He coughed as he finished.
"Are you OK, Colonel?" BJ asked. He turned towards Hawkeye. "You don't look so good yourself, partner."
"I'm sure it's just a cough. At my age, I'm surprised I'm not having more of 'em." The old man coughed again and grimaced. "Maybe I should head back to my tent for a while," he said quietly.
Hawkeye also grimaced as BJ walked him back to the Swamp. "I mean it, Hawk, you don't look well. Were you in any pain in Seoul?"
"Trust me, Beech, I was fully anesthetized." Pierce slapped a hand on his bunkmate's shoulder. "C'mon, it's just a few aches and pains. Korean roads aren't exactly free of potholes, you know." He coughed, BJ looking worriedly at him as they went inside the tent.
Day Two
"We're officially calling it an influenza outbreak, which began somewhere in French Indochina." The man coughed slightly, rubbing his nose with a pair of tissues. "Sorry. As I was saying, the recommended course of treatment is quarantine, followed by a general regimen of blood tests and an influenza diet."
"What about an actual vaccine?" BJ cleared his throat; it had been feeling scratchy all day.
"Also, forgive me for asking, but you're not a military man...what exactly is your role in this?" Charles asked.
"Well, the Army has asked for any doctors with experience in viruses to lend their expertise. I'm a consultant with Tokyo General." The man cleared his throat again. "I understand at least two of your senior personnel have come down with this?"
"Our Colonel, and Captain Pierce," Margaret answered. "The Colonel is in his tent; Captain Pierce is under quarantine in his quarters." She tried to hide the worry from her voice.
"Keep following the recommended protocols. I'll be back in the next few days to check up on everyone. I'm sorry I can't stay longer, but I'm due for a medical conference in Seoul." The man stood up, wincing slightly as he did so.
"'Stick to the protocols,'" BJ grumbled. "What does he think we've been doing, twiddling our thumbs?"
"Now, Hunnicut, I'm sure the experts in Seoul and Tokyo are doing everything they can to find out what is is we are dealing with. Until then, we have to rely on what we already know, and the treatments for it."
"That's what worried me, Charles. What if they don't know any more than we do?"
"But we have to rely on their guidelines," Margaret pointed out. "That's the proper procedure." But BJ could tell from her voice that she didn't entirely believe it, either.
Radar O'Reilly came running up to them, coughing as he stopped. "Oh, sirs-and ma'am-I just got back from Colonel Potter's tent."
"How is he?" BJ asked.
"Still the same." The young man rubbed his forehead. "Sir, I'm really worried. I mean, he's older, but he's always been one of the healthiest people I've ever met." Radar looked over at the Swamp, where he could see Hawkeye sleeping quietly in his cot. "How is he?"
"He's resting," BJ said, more or less truthfully. He paused, and added, "Look, I don't want you to worry, but he's going to have to be kept under quarantine for a while longer."
Radar nodded. "Yes, sir. I'll think good thoughts about him-and you, too, sirs." Radar headed towards his office.
"How is Hawkeye, really?" Margaret asked.
"About the same," BJ said quietly. "His temperature's still up, and his breathing is shallow." He coughed again.
"It appears you and Pierce may have more in common than you like." Charles touched his forehead; he'd been feeling warm all day. Maybe we all do, he thought...
Day Six
Klinger walked across the empty compound, carrying a rifle and wearing a surgical mask. He was supposed to be on guard duty, but really he did it just to have something to do. There wasn't anybody around to give him any orders, now. Normally even on a good day there was always at least some activity going on. But the tents were silent; the only real activity was in the hospital, and he was scared to go in there. Scared of what he might find this time, scared he might not be able to leave.
"Attention all personnel," a familiar, but hoarse, voice came over the PA loudspeaker. "As of 0800 hours this morning, a cease fire effectively exists between North and South Korea, and with the People's Republic of China. All parties have agreed to a truce following the outbreak of a new strain of what has been identified as a form of hemorrhagic fever that originated in Africa. Outbreaks have now been reported in Japan, the Philippines, Australia, Indonesia, and Hawaii, where martial law has been declared in Honolulu. In Washington, White House officials are denying that President Eisenhower has been affected, saying only that the President was being treated for unrelated chest pains."
It figures it would have taken a plague to end the war, Klinger thought. Kind of hard to find enough guys to keep fighting when they're all sick.
Klinger averted his eyes as he passed the Swamp. He still expected to see at least Hawkeye there, raising a martini glass in salute as he walked by, but there was no one, no there at all. Would there ever be, again?
Klinger grimaced. He'd been feeling tired lately, and had aches and pains like an old man. He'd been sweating, too, and he knew it wasn't just from the Korean sun. He sat down on a crate, knowing nobody would tell him to get back on his feet. He felt a dry wind blow across the compound, and coughed.
THE END