Letters to My Friends

Author – Benaboo

Rating – PG 13

Genre – Comedy/Drama

Characters – Hawkeye, BJ, Radar, Margaret, Klinger, Frank, Colonel Potter and the late great Henry Blake

Warnings – Some comedic elements in this one, but mostly drama.

Setting – Takes place during season 5 of MASH, after Margaret announces her engagement to Donald Penobscot

Title – I had the idea that Henry Blake wrote some letters to his MASH buddies in case something ever happened to him, and this is what came of it.

Notes – Ok this is the second chapter, and I'm gonna be gone for a few weeks so there won't be any new chapters for a bit. Also because I want to do the actual letter writing justice. I want to do this story justice. So all I ask is that you just be patient with me. Enjoy.

Bena

Chapter Two

Colonel Sherman T. Potter took a seat behind his desk while Pierce and Hunnicutt sat down in the chairs across from him. They were goofing about, and he let them do it, since he knew that shortly the laughter and jokes would be replaced with tears and sadness. So he let them have their fun, as there was no reason in his mind not to.

The doors swung open minutes later, Major Houlihan walking through followed very closely by Major Frank Burns, or as Pierce dubbed him, 'Ferret Face'. The colonel couldn't help but smile at that, since he wasn't the major's biggest fan, but he kept it under his hat. As commanding officer he couldn't afford to laugh at him… much.

The majors' both saluted and said "present and accounted for sir!" at the same time, which drove the two captains in front of him to burst into fresh laughter. Margaret shot them an annoyed glance and Frank and angry glare, of course, and couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"What are you two bozos yucking about?" He asked his patented sneer plain on his face.

Hunnicutt stifled his laughter and looked at him. "Correction Frank; I'm the bozo and he's the clown." He pointed at his fellow captain and doctor. "And we only Yuck when something's yucky."

Frank snapped back at him. "Oh shut up!"

Hawkeye just smiled. "Yuck yuck Frank."

Margaret rolled her eyes and raised her voice. "Oh, why don't all of you shut up? You're acting like a bunch of children!"

Hawkeye looked at her with mock seriousness. "Yes Mother Margaret, as long as you promise not to use the ruler. My hands are every sensitive."

As the four officers all started talking at once, throwing insults and yelling at one another, Radar entered the room, Corporal Maxwell Klinger right behind him. Max Klinger, in his usual "Section 8" style, was wearing a yellow frock dress, the neckline, sleeves, and hem sewn with miniature lacy daisies. He topped it off by accentuating with dangling pearl earrings, two inch white pumps, and a white handbag with yellow trim. As far as his ideas for getting a section 8 went it was tame, but Colonel Potter had learned rather quickly to take the over dramatic Klinger with a grain of salt. As General Steele used to say back in the Great War, 'sometimes a bit of an infection is good for a wound.' Then again the general was currently spending time in a padded cell at a secure military bases, weaving baskets and counting what sane brain cells he still had left in his head.

\the commanding officer shook off those thoughts and stood up, authority in his voice as he brought his meeting to order. "Settle down folks, time to get started." They did not hear him, however, still bickering and screaming at each other. Irritated, he put his fingers to his mouth and let out a long, sharp whistle so loud the two corporals had to cover their ears. Everyone fell silent and rapt with attention immediately.

Klinger took his hands down and regarded the colonel with a respectful look. "I'm impressed Sherm! I had no idea a man of you're age could belt it out like that! How about you whistle us a little show tune?"

"Knock it off private, now isn't the time!" Klinger thought to say something more but the look and tone in Potter's voice made him think twice about it.

"So what's going on Colonel?" B.J. asked. "Seems serious."

Sherman pulled out the leather satchel he had brought back with him from Tokyo and laid it on his desk. "Indeed Hunnicutt, but I'm involving you indirectly, to lend morale to you're fellow comrades." B.J. looked at him, puzzled by that statement, but didn't say a word as Potter opened the bag and pulled out a stack of envelopes.

Pierce felt a sudden wave of sadness as he took in Potter's demeanor. "What is it Colonel?" he asked, tone solemn. Without saying a word the elderly commander handed him an envelope and took in the captain's reaction as he did so. Pierce took it, looked at the writing that spelled his name, and his head shot up to give the colonel a very sad and disturbed look.

"This is Henry's handwriting." He said plainly, his voice reflecting that same sadness, and Potter could swear his head surgeon was about to cry, not that he could blame him.

Margaret spoke, surprise and sadness just as obvious. "Colonel Blake? That's not possible since he's…" she couldn't finish her sentence, or hold back the tears for that matter, as they fell silently down her cheeks.

The colonel did his very best to keep things calm, feeling sympathy for the loss of their previous commanding officer. "Because he's dead, I know major, and that is still true. Colonel Henry Blake did die in that plane crash, I'm sorry."

Everyone was too shocked to speak except Hunnicutt, who addressed the situation. "How did you come by this sir?" He gestured towards the envelopes.

It was times like this that the colonel appreciated B.J. Hunnicutt, since they were both new to the MASH 4077th. The San Franciscan doctor had a calm head in most emotional ordeals such as this. He continued to talk to him as he let it sink in with the others.

"It was the main reason I went to Tokyo in the first place. Colonel Blake…" but Radar interrupted.

"He was afraid he'd never make it back home, that something would happen to him and he'd never see Lorraine and his kids again. He used to tell me that…"

Several minutes of silence passed this time, as they thought about Henry and what Radar had just revealed to them. Even Frank Burns kept quiet, which he colonel was grateful for, since he would have been lynched had he opened his mouth, and he wasn't quite sure he'd have stopped it. Potter took that time to hand out the envelopes.

Major Houlihan, crying, and her face showing a rare emotionally charged moment in front of the men in the room, stood up, Burns mimicking her action to the letter.

"If you don't mind sir, I'd like to be dismissed."

Frank nodded. "Me too colonel, I'd like to be dismissed as well."

Potter nodded. "Go ahead majors; dismissed." Houlihan gave a salute, turned and walked out, Frank doing the same and leaving right on her heels.

When they were gone he cleared his throat and continued speaking. "There was a letter for Captain McIntyre as well they told me, but they sent it off to Boston days ago."

Hawk nodded and stood up himself. "I think the major had the right idea. I need to be alone." Unlike Margaret he didn't ask to be dismissed, as Radar followed him out, but Potter didn't hold it against him.

On the other side of Potter's office door, Radar caught up to the Captain before he could make it outside. "Sir?" The boy from Ottumwa, IA asked carefully, not wanting to get his head chewed off, just in case.

Hawkeye turned to him, and with compassion in his voice for the young corporal in front of him, responded in kind. "What is it Radar?"

He held out his envelope, fright in his eyes. "I don't think I can read it."

Hawkeye's heart broke for the kid. It was hard enough being in a war so far from home, but it was even harder to lose such good friends that made you're stay in a hell hole in Korea so much better. They had all loved Henry, some of them closer to him than others, but no one as much as Radar. Colonel Henry Blake loved Radar more than anyone in this man's army, and looked out for him as if he was his own son.

And Radar had looked up to him as a father, which he never had at home, his own dying when he was very young. Henry Blake had meant that much to him, this Pierce knew, and getting these now was bringing up all the sadness of losing him up all over again. It was upsetting for everyone, but he knew it was a worse kick in the gut for Radar than any of them, himself included.

Pierce sighed, keeping his tone soft. "It's from Henry, Radar."

Radar shoved the envelope further in his face. "I know that! I just can't read it!"

Pierce took it and gave the boy a pitying look. "Ok, I'll just hold onto it for you until you're ready to read it."

"I won't. I have stuff to do now." Pierce put it in his pocket as Radar left outside, careful not to damage it in any way. Pierce made his way back to the "swamp" to imbibe large amounts of the homemade, rotgut gin in the still and wallow a bit to prepare for whatever was written in his envelope. However, Radar would not leave his thoughts, and he knew the kid would be back to see him.

'He'll want to read it later; he just needs time to calm down.' Pierce thought. 'And I'll keep it on me until he does.'