Disclaimer: They're not mine…but the storyline is.
I grew up with MASH and often thought about what would have happened to the families back home and the kids left behind. I wrote this one in 2004 and it still needs work in places but I love it so I thought I'd post it. I know some of the details might not mesh but if you ever watched MASH you'd know continuity wasn't their strongest suit.
Anyway, this story, in its entirety, is dedicated to the children of all service personnel, past, present & future, who grow up while their parent/s serve us all.
Question: I know I can't post this story twice under JAG and under MASH is there anyway to let the MASH people know it's here? I've never done a crossover before!
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It was nearing dusk as Harm looked up from his desk and into the empty bullpen. He checked his watch and realised it was already 1934, daylight saving had thrown his judgment off again. He leant back in his chair and closed his eyes. He was weary, not tired, not fatigued – weary. He felt old; weary and old. There were more grey hairs when he looked in the mirror each morning and there were more wrinkles appearing, though he wouldn't admit it to anyone.
"Ahem," a quiet cough interrupted his thoughts.
"Yes, can I help you?" Harm asked, standing to greet the stranger dressed in a dark blue suit with an ultra fine pin stripe.
"I'm sorry I didn't mean to disturb you," he replied, nervously tugging on his pale blue tie.
"That's ok, it's been a long day and I'm a little tired. How can I help you?" stretching out his hand to shake the stranger's.
"Commander Rabb, my name is Andrew Blake and I'm not sure if you can." Harm was curious.
"Well, Mr Blake, how about you sit down and tell me why you're here and we'll see what I can do." Harm gestured to the chair.
Andrew sat down and clasped his hands together. To Harm he looked like a little boy who had been sent to the Principal's office, uncomfortable and guilty. "Mr Blake…" Harm began.
"Andrew, please call me Andrew," the man said quietly.
"Andrew, what brings you to JAG?" Harm asked sitting down behind his desk.
Andrew Blake didn't know where to start, he didn't want to open Pandora's Box but he wanted to know.
"Commander, I don't know where to begin," Andrew finally responded.
"Well, start with me. Why did you come to see me? How did you know my name?" Harm was beginning to feel uneasy. He looked out the door but he was on his own.
"I came to you because of the similarities in our situations," Andrew explained.
"Situations?" Harm questioned.
"Yes, Commander, I wanted to make sure the person I spoke to about this had some compassion and understanding of the situation," Andrew said with greater confidence.
"What situation?" Harm was thinking all sorts of things.
"Our fathers," Andrew replied without explanation.
"What about our fathers?" Harm was tiring of the question and answer format of this conversation.
"You were only five when your father went MIA…" Andrew began.
"How do you know that?" Harm interrupted.
"I researched military lawyers. I needed to find someone who was sympathetic, if I decided to go ahead," Andrew said, trying to allay Harm's concerns.
"Andrew, tell me what my father's death has to do with you?" Harm asked, leaning back in his chair.
"I was eight when my father was killed. He was a Lieutenant Colonel in the Army during the war…" Andrew began
"Which war? Obviously not the Vietnam War, you're way too old." Harm regretted his choice of words.
"The Korean War or Police Action as was called then," Andrew said.
"But if he died during the war, Police Action, I can't see how I can help you."
"Let me see if I can explain it to you."
Andrew took a deep breath and then began his explanation of the events of his life, starting with the day his father, Lieutenant Colonel Henry Blake was drafted and sent to the Korean War on July 11th 1950 as Commanding Officer of MASH 4077th. He had been a doctor in general practice in his native Illinois before being drafted.
His father had served his country well and earned enough points to be rotated home. He had overseen a unit which was low on military protocol but high on achievements. The 4077th had earned and maintained a success rate of 97percent and above, an amazing achievement for a unit so close to the front. Andrew proudly spoke of the advancements in medical procedures his father and his comrades had made in the face of enemy attacks and brutal conditions.
Andrew also told of the period of yearning at home for his father. How his younger brother Jimmy had been born in his father's absence and had never had the chance to meet him. How his sister, Kate, who was nine at the time, cried herself to sleep because her beloved daddy was not home. How when his mother, Lorraine, received news of his death, she stayed in bed for a week, trying to pretend it hadn't happened. She could never come to terms with the fact he had survived the war and died coming home to them.
"Andrew, unfortunately that was the story for a lot of families, and not just in the Korean War, but I still don't see how it involves me," Harm said, interested in the story but just not seeing the connection to him.
"My dad died when his plane was shot down over the Sea of Japan, May 21st 1951. There were no survivors. We were told the plane had gone down at sea and therefore there was no body, no personal effects and thus no tangible evidence to prove he had died," Andrew said, his eyes misting over at the distant memory of his father's death.
"Is that what you are disputing, whether your father died or not?" Harm asked.
"No, he died. I'm sure of it. It was just something I knew as soon as I saw the kid bringing the telegram stop at the front of the house. However, my mum never wanted to believe it. She denied it for years, 'Henry's away' she'd say. She always said she could understand it if he had died in Korea but not in a plane coming home. In the end I think she resigned herself to the fact and let it go. I guess dad dying at the hands of the enemy made more sense than swimming with the fish somewhere." He stopped and walked to the window, looking at the last signs of daylight.
"Andrew, 1951 was a long time ago, fifty three years. What do you want to know?" Harm asked, watching his visitor intently.
"Mum passed away last summer and going through her papers I found this telegram." He produced it from his pocket and handed it to Harm before walking back to his chair.
Simply put it told the recipient Lt Col H. Blake had died after his plane was shot down over the Sea of Japan. It's only attempt at compassion was the final salutation which read "condolences."
"Very much like the one we received," Harm said passing it back.
"I also found this," Andrew slipped another piece of paper across to Harm. "It's from Brigadier General Crandall Clayton."
Dear Mrs Blake,
It is with deep regret I am writing to inform you of the death of your husband Henry. As you know, Henry was the Commanding Officer of MASH 4077th, a unit in my command. He was an excellent surgeon, a caring administrator and a fine man. Henry was respected by all those who knew him and his loss has greatly affected us all.
The plane carrying your husband home was shot down over the Sea of Japan, it crashed into the Sea and there were no survivors. I am so very sorry your husband's body cannot be returned to you but know he will always be in our thoughts and prayers.
Henry Blake was a brave and courageous man who proudly served himself, his family and his country with honour.
Condolences,
Crandall Clayton
"That was a well-written letter, it must have given your mother some comfort," Harm said folding the letter.
"Would anything have comforted your mother, Commander?" Andrew asked.
"Probably not." Harm drew a breath he couldn't see where this was going.
"After Mum's funeral I had a visit from Radar…" he began.
"Radar?" Harm interrupted.
"Corporal Walter O"Reilly, he was my father's Company Clerk. He made contact with us after he returned from the war and came to see us several times over the years. He always spoke highly of my father, something my mother took pride in – to know he was loved and respected by the men and women he commanded meant there was some purpose to his service. But in all the years we never discussed my father's death, except to acknowledge it had happened. At first, it was too painful for all of us, afterwards it was just awkward. Anyway, Radar, Corporal O'Reilly, visited and I showed him the same papers I just showed you and …and…" He stuttered.
"And what?" Harm was intrigued.
"Radar's recollection was that the plane my father was in was shot down but spun inwards. The reports they had to the unit said it had crashed on land and not at sea. They should have been able to recover something, his dog tags at least – something concrete to prove to my mother he was dead," Andrew said, pain for his mother's never-ending longing evident in his eyes.
"Andrew, in times of conflict there is often misinformation. This could be as simple as a missing part of a sentence. It may be nothing more sinister," Harm reported.
"I appreciate that Commander and that is why I don't know if you can help me. My mother died still mourning my father and because she did, we all did. Fifty three years is a long time to mourn someone who had long become a faded memory, but we did. I'm 61 years old, you know, and I thought with my mother's passing I could let dad rest in peace and now this. I just want to know the truth about his death. There may be no mystery or intrigue just a clerical error but I'd like to know. Do you understand?" Andrew said quietly and passionately.
Harm leaned back in his chair, he understood completely. Knowledge was a powerful thing - it meant the difference between living and existing. Harm had travelled the world, faced death in Russia and nearly thrown away his career, all to find the truth about his father. He could well understand why Andrew needed the answers. He knew how not knowing could torment you to the point of distraction.
"I don't know if I can help you, Andrew, but I do know I will," he finally said, getting to his feet.
Andrew looked puzzled, not understanding what the Commander had said. "Sorry, Commander, are you helping me or not?"
"Uh, sorry, I meant I don't know if I can find the answers you need but I will try."
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