Radar was one of the last to arrive, the camp already set up and ready to run. It was Henry Blake who realized that they had forgotten the Company Clerk who was to arrive, and that not a tent in the camp had room for the young Corporal. So it was decided, without a word spoken to Radar on the matter, to shove a spare cot into the tiny office, and convert a corner into his quarters. When he heard, he just nodded, willing to go along with anything he was told, almost as if he hoped he could be sent back home for good behavior.

The OR was in shambles when he arrived, but with most wounded being sent out to other MASH units, it was alright for the time being. As the rest of the camp moved from here to there, setting up this and that, Radar sat in what was now his tiny office, on what was now his tiny bed. He had been there long enough to know to feel uneasy and homesick, but not long enough to feel the true terror he would grow accustomed to having everyday for years on end. Doctors and nurses scramble in and out of the office, carrying a box, yelling out orders, not one noticing the young man who was so out of place.

That evening, Radar's first dinner in Korea, his first experience of the Mess Tent, he wandered around with a tray heaped with what was hoped to be food and not the socks he had lost three years ago, he wasn't quite sure. A steady stream of people moved around his, jostling him out of the way, anxious to get their own trays. Finally, the prospect of sitting with a table full of enlisted men he didn't know terrifying him, Radar settled on choosing a conveniently empty bench, content with eating and leaving the crowd of strangers as soon as possible.

Within moments two men sat beside him, trapping him in the middle. A quick glance told him these were officers and that he had no place sitting on the bench he was. Muttering an apology, he began to stand up. Suddenly, a table full of enlisted men seemed better than being between to officers.

"Hey, kid," one of them said, stopping the Corporal in his tracks, "We didn't mean to scare you off. You don't want to eat with us, we'll move."

Radar reached for his momentarily forgotten tray. "Oh, no sir, at all sir, I didn't mean --"

"Look at what you did to the poor thing, making him blush like that. Probably just doesn't want to be seen associating with officers."

"Can you blame him?"

Wanting nothing more to do than turn and run, Radar began to stammer, feeling caught. "I -- I just -- I thought you didn't -- ah, jeez."

The younger of the two men turned from where he sat poking at his food suspiciously. "Sit down. Eat with us. Chat with us. Make yourself at home."

"Oh, thank you sir but I couldn't try and eat my meal with officers, it wouldn't be --"

"Hear that, he called us officers."

"Not even a mocking bone in the kid's body either!"

"That settles it, he stays." The two men turned back to where Radar stood, clutching his tray for dear life. "I, for one, am not an officer. I am Benjamin Franklin Pierce, dragged to this miserable country kicking and screaming all the way. The words 'Officer' and 'Captain' are not in my vocabulary."

"And I am John McItyre, at your service."

"There you are, see? Not officers. Men." There was a motion made to the empty space Radar had been sitting in and the dark haired one added, "Could you eat with us now?"

Reluctant, Radar felt himself sitting back down. "Yes, sir, Captain Pierce, sir."

"Call me Hawkeye."

"And I'll suffice with a simple Trapper."

Startled, Radar just nodded, and began to shovel his now lukewarm food into his mouth.

"Look at him go, Trap. I think he actually likes this stuff."

"I wonder if it's catching."

Radar glanced up.

"So, kid," Trapper began, a disgusted expression on his face as he looked at his tray, "You have a name?"

Swallowing quickly, he mumbled out, "Walter O'Reily, sir. But you can -- you can call me Radar. If you want, that is." He hastened to add.

"Radar?"

The Corporal just sighed, as he began the explanation yet again. "Everyone calls me that because sometimes I know things before they happen, sirs."

A glance crosses between the two men as Hawkeye began, " You know things before --"

"Duck!" Without waiting for the man to react, Radar roughly grabbed the collar on his shirt and pulled down with force.

Seconds later a tray of food went flying through air that had moments before been occupying Hawkeye's head.

Trapper just nodded as he watched, saying only, "Ah."

"Radar it is then."

A few minutes of quite eating and Hawkeye whispered, "You even old enough to be here, kid?"

Radar nodded quickly. "Been eighteen for near three months."

The Captains just shook their head sadly, swirling their half-eaten slop around.

"You're an orderly then? Maybe a guard?" Trapper asked.

"No sir, the Company Clerk. Sir."

Trapper held up a forkful of something green as he replied, "Company Clerk. Not a bad job." He glanced down at where Radar sat hunched over the table. "I heard it's demanding though."

"I can handle it, sir."

"I'm sure you can." Hawkeye broke in. "Is this your first time away from home, then?"

Radar glanced around. "Yes, it is, sirs." He paused. "How did you -- how did you know sir?"

"You reek of fear."

Puzzled, the young man began to sniff at his shirt. He snapped his head back up, startled, when he heard Hawkeye's laugh filling the air around him.

"You're one of a kind, kid." Trapper's eyes seemed to be sizing Radar up, as they moved from the bottom of his regulation army boots to the top of his prematurely balding head. "You feel homesick?"

Radar hesitated before nodding.

"Good. You're human." Hawkeye had regained composure and jumped right back into conversation. "Me, I've been her a little less than a week. Everyday I think I'm back in my room in Maine, and this is all a dream."

Radar's eye lit up as he turned to where Hawkeye sat. "Maine, sir? Really? Oh, jeeze, I always wanted to go east, you know? My mother never once left Ottumwa, except for when my dad passed on. I always promised I'd go see other parts of the world." He glanced around the Mess Tent. "I guess I have though, haven't I?"

"Behold, he speaks." Trapper smiled. "Now, yes, alright, Maine is just fine -- if you're a lobster. If you really want to check out the east -- and I mean really check it out -- Boston is the only way to go."

"Boston, sir? Really?"

"Lived there all my life. Best city this country's ever seen." Trapper stopped. "I mean, that country."

"Wow, the both of you, from the east. That's just -- wow. It's got to be a lot different than Iowa, I just bet it is. Probably loads more to do and see."

"Ah, an Iowa boy, are we?"

"Yes sir. Born and raised on a farm. That's what my mother does, you know. She farms."

Hawkeye laughed. "That's usually what farmers do."

Radar managed to crack a smile. It was surprising, really, how relaxed he had become, in such a short amount of time, just by talking to the two Officers. He felt better than he had in days, ever since he got on the first plane to make the trip on over.

"Now I, my short friend, have been here three weeks, and counting. My draft board had to hunt me down and tie me up before I would leave Boston. Almost shipped me over in a box, didn't want to leave that much."

Radar pushed away his empty tray, nodding as the two Officers spoke.

"Got my notice to come over to this fine wasteland of a country last month. I was in a surgery --"

"A surgeon? Oh wow!"

Hawkeye grinned. "I was in a surgery and this nurse comes running in. I was closing the guy up -- intestines all knotted up --" Hawkeye added to Trapper. "When she comes running in telling me my father was on the phone. Said it was important. I ran to that phone, let me tell you, faster than Mercury's little wings could ever carry him. Next thing I know, my father's telling me to pack my bags, I have indefinite vacation time to be spending her in Korea."

Trapper sighed, running a hand through his hair as he did so. "I was sitting at home, watching one of those Bob Hope specials, you know? My wife's sitting next to me, I've got a daughter in my lap and one in bed, and all I can think about is how in an hour I'll be sending this child to her room, and then I'll go on up to mine to bed my wife --"

Radar blushed a deep scarlet and glanced away.

"-- And Louise mentions this notice came in the mail for me. I say 'Well why didn't you give it to me before dinner?' and she says she forgot all about it. Brings it in and I rip into it. Then there it is. Orders from the draft board. I've got an invite to the war."

Hawkeye began to stab at what looked like either meat or cardboard, as Radar said, "My Uncle Ed gave me the letter. I was in the barn, you know, just feeding the cows and thinking about which chickens would be laying eggs. Then -- WHAM! -- he hands me this letter. Ma started crying when she saw it, but told me I had to do what I had to do. Uncle Ed said he'd take care of the farm chores while I was gone. I left right after training."

"This whole damn war's a crying shame, just a crying shame." Hawkeye muttered.

Trapper laid down his fork, and said over Radar's head, "You done there, Hawk? One more look at this, and I think I'll be off food forever."

"Yeah, lets head on back to the tent."

As he began to stand up, through with his dinner, Hawkeye paused to say, "It'll be nice working with you, Radar. I can tell."

"Thank you sir."

"We'll see you around then. Maybe in a few nights, when everything around here's settled, we can get a good game of poker going."

"I'm not very good, sir."

"All the better."

And with that, the two men walked off, leaving Radar where he sat, afraid but far from lonely.