I just want to know
Do you dream of me too?
MASH Unit 4077. October, 1950.
An Army issued Jeep rolled into 4077 under the cover of night, guided by a smattering of stars and the light of a crescent moon. Gravel and dirt crunched beneath the heavy wheels of the vehicle, and Virginia swayed in time with the uneven ground as the camp grew closer and closer. All was still. Delays on the tarmac meant her scheduled arrival time had long since come and gone, but she hadn't expected the base to feel like a tomb. The cold midnight air and eerie silence put a skip in her heartbeat. She'd thought there would be some sign of life, some human activity, no matter the hour. Yet the camp was empty.
The driver cut the engine beneath a wash of light emanating from the hospital windows. He hopped from his seat and unloaded Virginia's few belongings while she steeled her nerves. She pressed her moist palms to her uniform skirt. Oh hell, she was already nervous and had yet to hear an incoming chopper or cut open her first patient. Some volunteer she was.
"Captain, this is your stop."
"It is, isn't it?" Virginia offered the driver a pinched smile as she slid from the vehicle. Her legs wobbled once her feet hit solid ground. "Thank you." Loath as she was to admit it, she wished the driver didn't have to leave quite yet. Once he was gone, the war began and she would be left to figure out a new normal.
He caught her glance around the empty field and shrugged. "I guess everyone's grabbing whatever sleep they can." He pointed toward the hospital doors. "You may be able to find somebody to get you settled in there."
"Again, my thanks. You're certainly more knowledgeable than I am." Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she swallowed hard. "I suppose I'm just a little nervous."
The driver reached out and gave her shoulder a hearty squeeze. "You'll do fine."
Virginia nodded, her lower lip caught between her teeth. He was right; she would do fine. After all, she had no choice but to do fine.
With a short wave and wish of good luck, the driver returned to the Jeep and sped away. Virginia watched until the headlights disappeared around a bend in the road and she could no longer hear the rumble of the engine. Her chest tightened. She was truly alone now in the middle of a foreign country on the other side of the world. Her husband was God-knew-where. And even if she did manage to communicate with him somehow, she had little to say…
She grabbed the handle of her suitcase and brushed all thoughts of her crumbled marriage away. She'd left the States to start afresh, do something worthwhile with her life. Wiling away her time thinking of Hawkeye was counterproductive. Such things would not serve her well here.
The driver had suggested she look to the hospital for help, so Virginia took his advice. Thankful to see a few figures through the small square window on the door, she shouldered her way into the Post-Op ward. The air smelled of cleanser and a hint of sweat. Each of the beds contained an injured man, their wounds covered by white gauze or a cast. Melancholy permeated the crowded room, the heavy mood carried by both the wounded and medical staff. Though most of the patients slept soundly, even in their sleep, waves of regret and anxiety etched lines on their young faces. The two nurses on duty sat with tired eyes and stooped shoulders. One nurse played with the ring on her left hand, her stare glazed over, lost in memory. To Virginia's left, a woman sat behind a desk. She tapped the pen in her hand to a uniform beat, her chin on her palm, eyes on the clock on the far wall. Virginia clear her throat and stepped into the woman's line of sight.
"Excuse me—I was wondering if you might be able to help me find whoever is in charge. Coronel Blake, I believe?"
The woman startled in her seat. Life rushed into her face as she refocused her attention on the present world. "Damn, you scared me!" Her deep brown eyes took in Virginia's uniform and her brow drew tight. "Are you the new surgeon?"
Virginia nodded and readjusted her hold on her suitcase. "Yes, I am. My flight was delayed so I missed coming in this afternoon. I didn't expect to get here so late."
The woman stood and offered her hand. "Well, we're happy to have you here just the same. My name's Ginger."
"Virginia," she said. "Sorry to scare you." She shook Ginger's hand and felt some of the tension ease from her shoulder. Perhaps she had been nervous for nothing.
Ginger brushed the apology aside with a wave of her fingers. "It's nearly impossible to not doze off in one way or another on the night shift—especially when there's nothing going on. Have you met Margie yet?"
With a laugh, Virginia shook her head. "You're the first person I've met so far."
"Margie Culter's your tent-mate. It's late so I'm sure you're pretty beat. I can show you to your tent, if you like?"
"That'd be very helpful."
"Follow me." Ginger headed toward the backdoor, pausing only to speak to her fellow nurse on duty. "Alice, can you watch the place for a bit?"
Alice, the woman who'd been lost in thought and fiddling with her ring, looked up from the floor and sighed. "I suppose. I doubt anything pressing will happen while you're gone."
"If anything does happen, call for me." Ginger glanced at Virginia, her eyes rolling skyward. She jerked her head toward the door and started outside. "Alice can be a real pain. When her husband enlisted, she tried to follow him. But he's somewhere up north and she's stuck with us."
"Oh." Virginia frowned. "Did many of the nurses try and pull that kind of stunt? Follow a man?"
Ginger pulled her jacket tighter and shrugged. "I couldn't say. I enlisted to get away from a man." Though her eyes were clouded with unspoken words, her tone was light and airy.
Virginia's mouth pulled into a wry smile. "You and me both."
The pair walked in silence for a few moments, brought to quiet by a bitter blast of wind. Virginia ducked her head and wished she'd worn the scarf stuffed deep in her suitcase.
"That's The Swamp." Ginger broke the silence and pointed toward a large tent in the center of the road. Rays of yellow light broke through the cracks and lifts in the walls, making it easier to see the curving path they walked. From inside came the sound of raucous laughter and loud voices. "Stay clear of there while you can."
Interest piqued, Virginia studied the ramshackle building. "Why's that?"
"Those are your fellow surgeons. They're good guys when they want to be, but they're mostly loud drunks. Always trying to pull a fast one on some poor soul."
"Noted."
"This is your tent." Ginger stopped at a smaller tent placed on the bend in the road and knocked on the door. Seconds passed before the door opened to reveal a slight woman with bright blue eyes and girlish freckles. "Sorry to bother you so late, Margie, but this is Virginia, the new surgeon."
Recognition dawned on Margie's face and she smiled. "Oh gosh, I almost forgot you were coming today. Come on in."
Virginia thanked Ginger for her help and bid her a goodnight before following her new roommate into the tent. A blanket of warmth from the barrel heater circled her as the door clattered shut.
"You can take that bed there." Margie pointed to an empty military cot on the far right of the room. "I'm sorry if it's a mess," she said as she scooped personal items and clothing from the floor. "I've been without a roommate so long I nearly forgot what it's like to share a tent this small."
Glancing around the cramped space, Virginia dropped her suitcase on the cot. It squeaked and groaned yet held firm. Dust from the long unused blankets drifted into the air. Despite that, when she sat down, her body all but gave out and collapsed on the narrow bed. A contented sigh escaped her lips, and she rubbed a hand down her face. She hadn't realized how tired she was…
"You must be tired." Margie's voice was soft and understanding, but Virginia could hear the curiosity underlying her comment.
"It was certainly a long day." Virginia pulled off her boots and massaged her sore arches. All she wanted was to curl underneath a blanket and grab whatever sleep she could. Who knew the next time she would be able to get a full night's rest? Somehow, she doubted she would get the chance to sleep soon.
"Where are you from?"
"Maine," Virginia said, fighting the urge to lay down and close her eyes. "Not originally—I was born in Philadelphia—but my husband and I lived in Maine."
"I hear that area is beautiful. I've never been there myself." Margie hesitated then leaned forward, her gaze intense. "You're really a surgeon?"
Virginia looked up from her opened suitcase. "Why do you sound so surprised?"
"When we got word the new surgeon was a woman…" She shrugged, a pretty pink lighting her cheeks. "Well, I guess we weren't expecting that. You're all the nurses have been able to talk about the last couple of days."
"Honestly, I didn't think the Army would let me enlist as a surgeon. I figured I'd be a nurse. But there was a need for surgeons and not enough men to fill the positions. Seems they're already here. So, I got the job." Virginia stood as she began to unbutton her uniform and change into her nightgown. "It's not that glamorous or exciting."
"I don't know about that." Margie slipped beneath her covers and reached to turn off the lamp beside her bed. "All the surgeons here are men. I think it'll be nice to have a female doctor around for a change."
Virginia swallowed hard. She knew coming into the military as a woman would be hard—especially as a female surgeon. Few outfits allowed women the position. In her case, however, the Army would be foolish to say no. She volunteered, after all. What she hadn't expected was Margie's unspoken expectations.
But she was too tired to dwell on that now.
She finished changing her clothes and undid the tight bun at the base of her skull. The dull headache which had been grinding her brain most of the afternoon eased. Slipping into the warmth of her cot felt like a taste of heaven. Though the blanket was rough and frayed around the edges and the bed squeaked every time she moved a muscle, she'd never felt so comfortable. All the aches in her shoulders released. Her mind fell still, empty and serene. Her eyelids fluttered shut, lulled by the gentle ticking of Margie's clock.
"Do you want me to wake you for breakfast in the morning?"
Virginia, nearing the edge of sleep, had to process Margie's words several times before she responded. "Sure, that would be fine," she mumbled into her pillow.
"Goodnight then. I think we'll get along just fine. So long as you promise not to steal my hairbrush on the sly."
The corner of Virginia's mouth quirked upwards in response. She fell into a dreamless sleep seconds later.
Morning dawned long before she was ready. The sounds of life woke her—laughter and footsteps on the hard-packed earth. Somewhere outside a PA system announced the evening's lecture and movie selection. Sitting up, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stretched her back. A spring had dug into her shoulder blade the entire night, leaving her sore, but at least she felt somewhat rested. Rested, but not prepared. Butterflies had taken shelter in her stomach, and when Margie encouraged her to change and get ready for breakfast, the butterflies flapped their wings and quickened Virginia's heartbeat. It felt grade school all over again—the nerves, the sweaty palms, the upset stomach. However, she was determined to go into the mess tent with confidence. Fake confidence, but what the others didn't know wouldn't kill them.
Dressed in her green khakis and with jingling dog tags, Virginia and Margie walked side-by-side to breakfast. Margie was a sweet girl. Virginia supposed she was a few years younger than her own twenty-six but what the girl lacked in age she made up for in spirit and encouragement. She directed Virginia to the back of the over-crowded breakfast line, all the while shouting over the cacophony of voices to finish telling Virginia about her stint as her high-school mascot.
"Good morning, Virginia. Did you sleep okay?" Ginger sidled up alongside Virginia, metal tray in hand.
"I think if you can't remember how you slept it means you slept well." Virginia offered her tray to the cook to receive a helping of bacon and eggs. She moved down to grab a slice of bread and pour herself a cup of coffee. "So yes, I slept okay."
"Remember that. It'll be a long time before you sleep like a normal person again." She nodded to an empty table on the far side of the mess. "Why don't you go grab that table for us?"
Virginia slipped between the bodies occupying every inch of empty space to make her way to the table. Once she reached the table, she set her tray down and breathed a sigh of relief, making a mental note to wake earlier if she wanted a quiet breakfast. She reached for her cup of coffee, the heat of the mug traveling through her cold and shaking fingers. Caffeine wouldn't mix well with her nerves, but she needed whatever help she could get on this brisk morning. The first sip burnt her tongue and a bitter taste coated the roof of her mouth. Making a face, she pulled back and glanced inside. Black; she'd forgotten the milk. She rose from her seat as Margie and Ginger came to their spot on the bench.
"I forgot some milk," she said as she made to return to the dwindling line.
Only something caught her eye, something familiar but almost forgotten. Something personal and private. Something reserved for her and her alone.
Virginia stopped in her tracks. The muscles in her arms went tight, and her stomach churned. Her fingers no longer registered the heat of mug.
Hawkeye sat with his arm draped around a blonde nurse, his head bent near her ear, and that same lazy smile that had grabbed Virginia's attention all those years ago. The nurse laughed at his whispers and playfully batted away at his hand as it crept toward her thigh.
Bile rose in Virginia's throat. The mug in her hand slipped, crashed to the floor. Hot liquid splashed onto her leg, but she couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't…
At the sound, Hawkeye's attention snapped from the nurse to the commotion. His eyes locked with Virginia's. His jaw went slack.