Hello Everyone! Here's the next chapter to the story. I had some difficulties with it, as I'm not a doctor. I consulted my friend, who, as you may guess, is a physician, and she gave me some advises. If some of you notice the things that can't be true, please let me know. The same goes with my next chapters, because they'll always contain such things.

Please Please Please Review! I need to know if it's readable or not)))

Disclaimer: Don't own MASH, don't get money.

Enjoy!

Chapter 4

The climate in Korea was not an easy thing to get used to. Springs and autumns were bearable at least, but during summer and winter times, however, the whole MASH unit was desperately looking for a place to hide either from the smothering heat or freezing cold. Some of them wouldn't stop their complaints about the surprises the weather presented them with, the others tried to turn it into a joke. And, in Klinger's opinion, it was definitely the best way. This unbeatable sense of humor always helped them to feel a bit colder in summer and a bit warmer in winter, which was the most dangerous time of the year.

This very winter was not an exception, and the Christmas holidays this year were probably the worst. But for the temperature, which was lower than ever, the whole week was accompanied with the most piercing wind, the thickest coat couldn't save you from. The MASH inhabitants' shifts were rough. Many of their patients risked to lose their limbs if they hadn't got the necessary medical treatment in time. Fortunately, the doctors haven't found the amputations to be the only option for rather a long period of time and Klinger only hoped that this period would prolong, but he was not sure of it at all. The endless stream of wounded seemed to drain the powers of the hospital personnel completely. After a very short break the things became even worse. Not only they were exhausted, which was a common thing considering the conditions they always worked under, it was the threat of losing their friend and even the reminder of it could shatter the spirits of the whole unit. As if to please this atmosphere of constant angst and despair, the weather had spoiled before they even noticed the change.

"Why is it so dark? I can't see anything an inch from my nose."

"I wouldn't worry about it Klinger, the distance isn't short at all." said BJ shivering.

"And I'm proud of it!" the Corporal exclaimed cheerfully. He looked at the Captain but the latter didn't say anything else and only nodded. Klinger wanted to extract more words from the surgeon, but then he thought better of it. BJ apparently needed time and space to keep his emotions at bay, but still, the silence was unbearable. For the first time during this damn war or, as they call it, "police action" the Lebanese saw his comrades so scared. The camp was occasionally bombed, attacked by a sniper, they also had to bug out several times, but never did such terror overwhelm his friends. Deprived of any information about Hawkeye's fate, they didn't know what to do and imagined the most horrible things that could have happened to him. "For how long have they been driving?" Klinger thought trying to distract himself from the horror he had been supplied with by his own "kind" imagination. Suddenly, through the gray midst of the already late morning, he recognized the vague outlines of the overturned army jeep.

"Captain, I think I see the jeep straight ahead." Klinger narrowed his eyes.

BJ woke from his painful thoughts and tried to focus on the far away object the Corporal was pointing at.

As they were approaching the place of the accident the whole picture grew bigger and bigger allowing the two men see everything in detail.

"I see Hawkeye sir!" cried Klinger in a couple of minutes. Once in their field of view, a horrible scene met the comrades' eyes. Without waiting for the jeep to stop, BJ jumped out of it and sprinted to the prone form of his best friend. Having pressed the breaks Klinger followed BJ who had already been several steps ahead. What they saw paralyzed them: Hawkeye was pale, and his skin looked whiter than the snow, covering his body, and, as if in contrast to this whiteness, a pool of blood was beneath him, dark red and frozen. "My God!" gasped Klinger. BJ didn't even manage to open his mouth to say something and his lips were still trembling when he finally bent over his fallen friend. The surgeon quickly placed his fingers on his Hawkeye's carotid artery praying to find the pulse. After what looked like an eternity he felt a fragile beat. BJ let out a sigh he didn't realize he had been holding, but his relief was short-lived as the Doctor inside him had quickly noticed the fact, that Hawkeye's pulse, though there, was very weak and thready.

"Fetch the stretcher Klinger, he's still alive!" he cried.

After putting Hawkeye on the stretcher, loading it onto the jeep and covering Pierce with one of the blankets, BJ continued the examination.

"It's a miracle, but the limbs are not frostbitten." BJ whispered probing the man's arms and legs.

The miracle, however, ended when Hunnicutt passed to the chest. It appeared that the chest wound was the main cause of all the blood which had successfully escaped Hawkeye's body.

"Is the wound serious?" asked Klinger.

"I think so, it's deep and stuck with shrapnel, I also suspect that his ribs are broken." the Captain murmured without lifting his head.

Not knowing what else to ask, Klinger observed the whole scene, taking in every detail and trying to deduce what had happened. He saw the crater which had been created by nothing but the shell, and the place where it hit was just near the ruined jeep. The impact was so strong that, after having been "granted" with the shell fragments, Hawkeye was thrown several paces from the scene of the accident and landed on the hard icy ground breaking his ribs. This turn of events definitely saved the Captain's life, otherwise, instead of their friend, they would find only his burnt body parts. Klinger shuddered and immediately felt sick as soon the dreadful possibility crossed his mind. Pushing the unhappy option, which, by a sheer luck, had appeared not to be true, aside, he hurried back to BJ.

"Captain, will he pull through?" he asked at last, hope and doubt in his eyes.

"I…don't know yet, and we can't waste more time," BJ got into the jeep next to the stretcher. "let's go back!"

"On my way sir!" cried Klinger pressing the accelerator. With a sharp roar, the jeep took off. Having checked the safety belts for the third time, BJ grabbed the cb-radio.

"BJ Hunnicutt calls 4077th. BJ Hunnicutt calls MASH 4077th! Answer colonel!" he shouted, not willing to take his eyes of Hawkeye. At last, he heard Potter's voice.

"MASH 4077th, speak Hunnicutt."

"We found him Colonel, he's badly wounded," said BJ rather calmly "we'll come soon, hope he'll make it to the camp." The was a short pause, accompanied with what sounded like a sob, but then Potter found his voice.

"We'll be ready son, take him here on the double!" the Colonel hung up.

"Are you serious sir?" asked Klinger "Do you seriously think that he may not make it to the camp?" The Corporal didn't know why he had asked this question, but the words had burst out of him before he succeeded in holding them.

BJ nodded "He's trouble breathing, I'm afraid it's all due to the rib damage. The blood loss almost reached the fatal point and there's lot shrapnel in his chest, I think some of the fragments are just near his heart."

At these words Klinger pressed the accelerator even harder. The only sound in the air was from the engine and the wind, blowing right into their ears. But there was something else and it was not the wind. It was a groan, a groan of pain. BJ couldn't believe what he was seeing. Hawkeye moved his head and his eyes slowly opened. In some kind of stupor he stared at his best friend, who opened his mouth apparently trying to say something, although the only sound he could produce was an awful stertor but BJ distinguished something like "Beej".

"It's me Hawk, don't speak, you've got a ton of shrapnel in your chest."

Hawkeye seemed to understand as he simply looked at his buddy. When their eyes met, BJ saw that his friend's piercing blue eyes lacked their usual sparkle, they were strangely empty, almost dead. "My best friend is dying and I can't do anything else for him before we reach the camp!" he thought desperately. "You won't die." BJ whispered mostly to himself than to Hawkeye. The latter blinked in understanding and then his eyes closed. For a couple of minutes he was calm, but then, suddenly his whole body gave a violent start, followed by shivers and grasping for air. To his horror BJ realized that Hawkeye was suffocating.

"Klinger! Stop the jeep! Quick!"

The corporal obeyed without unnecessary questions.

"What's going on Captain?" he asked.

"That's what I'm going to find out!" BJ answered fervently, unwrapping Hawkeye from the blankets and unbuttoning his shirt for the second time in the last hour.

The pressure to Pierce's chest, caused by the broken ribs along with the shell fragments deep in the wound and of course, their crazy ride, were enough for the pneumothorax to begin, determined to kill its prey. There was only one way to save the lung and let the air pass properly.

"I need my bag" said BJ in panic, "find the alcohol, a sponge and hand me a big syringe."

BJ didn't know what to expect when he was packing his medical bag. His almost two years' experience in field surgery taught him to be prepared for everything, especially when you were dealing with chest wounds. Chests were mostly Hawkeye's area, but Hunnucutt was a good apprentice and soon he also could handle such operations quite well. It became a rule then, that every time BJ or Hawkeye go somewhere to practice their field surgery, they take the biggest syringe they can find. They don't even have to look for them, though, because they keep them in stock exactly for these reasons.

Klinger did everything he had been asked to do. The corporal helped the captain to disinfect Hawkeye's chest and was ready to pass the sponge and bandages any time. Suddenly BJ's hand began to shake like he was freezing over. The wind was really very cold, but it was not the reason. "I can't do it! This is Hawkeye for God's sake!" he thought, his hand hung in midair. It was his friend, his best friend, not just a faceless soldier. How could he puncture his friend?

"Captain, why are you hesitating?" asked the confused Corporal. BJ made a nervous start and tried to pull himself together.

"Captain, calm yourself, you must help Hawkeye or he's doomed!" Klinger looked at BJ and seemed to read his thoughts. "Captain" he said trying to find the words "you aren't hurting Hawkeye, you're saving him. Your actions won't do him any harm."

BJ nodded and felt a little better. He pressed the tip of the needle to his best friend's cold skin, praying that it was the right thing to do.

The two men sighed in relief when Hawkeye began to breath, he didn't though regain consciousness. Having finished with the procedure, Klinger started the engine again and drove to the camp at the neck-breaking speed. Safe for the weak pulse and subtle breathing Hawkeye looked like a corps, and this image was surely to haunt the Lebanese Corporal forever.

To be continued...