Dear Uncle Dan
So, I made it safely to Korea, not that I really had any doubt that I would, of course. Somehow I had expected my drafting to be something like the start of a new term at a new school, when you turn up at the gates with a bunch of other kids, all equally as nervous as you are; but although I turned up all right, I was alone at these particular "school gates". I was the only surgeon draftee. The others were all private soldiers, no doubt destined to die for our country somewhere on the front line.
I had been given a rundown of the different likely postings I might receive on arrival here, and they ranged from a posting to an aid-station right on the front lines where the survival rate is not terribly encouraging; to a nice safe post in one of the evacuation hospitals here in Seoul. I am human after all uncle, I found myself secretly hoping for some nice, safe posting where I could serve out my time here helping as many as possible without putting my rear end in the line of fire. Hmmm. My new posting was not what I was hoping for, and yet on the other hand, it does have its redeeming features.
I was sent to a M*A*S*H unit just a couple of miles behind the front lines, with a success rate of ninety-seven-point-something percent, which is about as good as it can get in a war zone. They are an outstanding bunch of people here, and despite the noises, the bombs and the shelling, the bad food, and the shortage of water, toilet-paper and rubber gloves, morale here seems to run at a pretty high level. In part, down to our chief surgeon…none other than our own beloved Hawkeye!
Uncle Dan, I know how much you worry about Hawkeye being in the middle of this senseless war, and I know you were worrying about me too, once you learned that I too was being drafted out here. Please try not to worry too much. Both of us are absolutely fine. Missing you and Crabapple Cove like mad, but otherwise fine. Since the two of us are now working together, assigned to the same outfit, we are able to watch out for each other.
It is a dangerous place, I can't lie to you about that, but to be honest with you Uncle, now that I am here, I realize what an amazing difference I can make here. I could have been assigned as someone's private surgeon, but here we save lives. We give life here. What more could I want? I'd sooner be back in Maine dealing with varicose veins, but if I have to be out here dealing with the heat and cold and lice and bedbugs then I can at least be in a place where I can actually save men's lives.
I did wonder how Hawk would react when he saw me. I was slightly surprised at how long it took him to come to my tent to see me. He was shocked to learn about Mike. I could have written to him as you suggested when it first happened, but now I'm here, I'm glad I waited to tell him face to face. You can probably guess how that conversation went.
You should see your son here, Uncle Dan. As the chief surgeon, he is the one who runs the outfit when it comes to surgery, gives the help and advice whenever needed and becomes everybody's kindly professor. In surgery and dealing with patients he is the complete professional; but off duty?
My first two days here were spent in the OR before I even got to see the inside of my quarters, but by the end of the same week, the fighting had moved away several miles away, and we found ourselves a unit of idlers. I was half expecting the result to be men getting themselves drunk at the officers' club, leading to fights and quarrels and all sorts of problems…just what anyone might expect. But not here at the 4077th!
Hawkeye gets bored I think even more quickly than most; probably because he is a lot more intelligent than he lets on, and his mind needs to be continually active. He has found a brilliant way of dealing with his own boredom, and at the same time keeping the rest of the outfit from getting bored and starting to dwell on the terror of where we actually are and what could happen if the battle happened to squirt back in our direction again. I have heard stories from some of the nurses here about Hawkeye's pranks in the past, things he has arranged to keep everyone busy and diverted.
One time he apparently tried to set a world record by stuffing as many people as possible into a jeep! Everyone apparently had a lot of fun joining in, and I've even seen the photos to prove it!
Another time they tell me he glued Major Burns' boots to a couple of bedpans, and the Major was forced to spend three hours wearing them like that before he had time to un-glue them. That I would have liked to see!
This time the children at the local orphanage were invited over for a cook-out, with party games…the only stipulation being that every game had to partner one adult with one child. We had fun in the three-legged race, with adult/child partnerships. Most of the camp spent their time falling over and laughing fit to bust. The kids all had a great time. I was partnered with a four-year-old boy, and he was much better than I was. Every time I fell over he was urging me to hurry and get up again. Major Winchester and his little partner won the three-legged race; Corporal Klinger and the ten-year-old girl partnering him won the two-in-a-bag sack-race...the rest of us spent most of that race flat on our faces. I wonder if Klinger and Winchester were secretly practicing? Once the fun and games were over, the entire camp with all the kids packed into the mess tent to watch a movie. Someone had managed to get a copy of a Shirley Temple, and although the film was all in English, the kids were all glued to the screen. I have an idea that they had never experienced anything like that before.
All in all, it was a great day, and everyone, kids and M*A*S*H personnel alike all feel invigorated by it all. I would never have guessed when I left Maine that I would spend a day in a muddy Korean field frying sausages and bacon over a campfire, and competing in children's races. When we get home, perhaps we could organize something similar for the kids in our local orphanage?
Well, Uncle Dan, this was going to be a longer letter, but I've just had Klinger come by my tent to warn me that there will be the first of several waves of casualties arriving within twenty minutes, so I had better sign off and get myself over to Pre-op. It looks like we might be in for a long session, so I'll include this letter with the next packet, and I'll write again as soon as I can.
All my love
Your loving Niece,
Kerry
