Chapter 4 - Family loyalties

[Timeline: July 1955 – Ford Ord, California]

Margaret Houlihan had returned to the States full of renewed hope and enthusiasm. She was sure her father would be proud that she had decided to carry on nursing in the Army General Hospital at Ford Ord.

However, her happiness was short-lived. He was clearly disappointed that she had turned down the two esteemed administration posts that he had recommended her for – one in Tokyo and the other at the NATO Headquarters in Belgium.

"Where is your ambition Margaret?" he had asked her. "This was your chance to climb higher up the social ladder and take your place amongst Colonels and Generals."

Margaret had felt like she had been run over by an army jeep. He obviously thought the hospital job was beneath her. She had hoped he would understand that she was a nurse – first and foremost – and a damn good one!

One of the things she had been looking forward to about coming home, was getting time to get acquainted with her family again. Encouraged by her divorced parents' apparent closeness at the families' celebration reunion, she thought perhaps they might have somehow stayed together. But it wasn't to be. As with everything surrounding their disciplined lives, it was all just a show. If anything, they had drifted even further apart from each other.

Her father, despite promises to spend more time with her, was very rarely at home. In between army conventions, military lectures and reunions, there was little time for Margaret in his busy schedule.

Her mother, Joyce, was still an alcoholic. She preferred to find solace in the bottom of a bottle, rather than spend time with her daughter. Margaret had wondered what had driven her mother to drink. Her parents had always had a fiery relationship, but she was sure that at one time they had been happy with each other.

Perhaps she was resentful because she had given up her career as an army nurse in order to start a family. Or maybe she had felt threatened because she had taken a back-seat in her children's affections. Although she had been a formidable figure during their childhood, Joyce had very much been in her husband's shadow. With a pang of guilt, Margaret realised that both her and her younger sister, Dorothy, had idolised their father whilst they were growing up, giving very little thought to their mother.

Her father, in turn, had been unable to hide his frustration that he hadn't been blessed with a boy. Although Margaret and Dorothy had both reached the rank of Major and Captain, respectively, their achievements were barely acknowledged by their father.

In fact, it would appear that he had already shunned Dorothy. Shortly after her recent marriage she had fallen pregnant and, like her mother, had given up her army career to concentrate on family life.

Margaret had enjoyed spending time with Dorothy and her niece. It made Margaret think that maybe this could be her one day. But there was still so much pressure from her father to achieve higher goals and more than anything, she wanted to make him really proud of her.

She felt like she was being pulled in two different directions. Should she take the path her father wanted her to take, or should she go her own way? Was she going to end up like her mother, who after devoting most of her life to the army, had now ended up bitter and alone?

In the end she had followed her heart and carried on nursing. It wasn't easy adapting to civilian life. After all, she had spent the last ten years following in her father's footsteps pursuing an army career. It was with a great sadness in her heart that she realised he would never forgive her for turning down the administration positions. In his eyes, she had wasted her opportunity to establish herself as a colonel in her own right.

But now, two years later, she knew she had made the right decision. The war had changed her. She found she had come to value the importance of life more than the pomp and ceremony of having achieved colonel status.

As she re-read BJ's letter, she realised that her tour in Korea had taught her that life was a precious and fragile commodity. It was something you didn't take for granted. And she had come to respect death and learn to be in awe of it. Because death didn't have any prejudices. It didn't just come to the old and the sick.

This was why the unit at 4077th M*A*S*H had worked so well. The lack of military discipline had always frustrated her. But she had admired the skill and expertise of the surgeons and the compassion and dedication shown by her proficient nurses. And despite her strict, army philosophy, there had been times when her "by-the-book" methods had gone out the window.

The memory flashed into her head of that cold, Christmas day morning, as if it was yesterday. The young, wounded solider had been brought into Pre-Op just as the orphans' party was about to kick off.

It was quickly established that the soldier was brain dead and that it wouldn't be long before his heart would soon follow. Both Hawkeye and BJ were certain that death would be imminent.

It was then that she had inadvertently found a photograph of the soldier with his family, which included two young children. BJ had then embarked on a campaign to keep the man alive long enough for Christmas day not to be remembered as the day their daddy had died.

Unfortunately the solider died 15 minutes short of midnight. Father Mulcahy had tried to administer last rites, but BJ was so caught up in the moment, he refused to accept that the soldier was gone.

Hawkeye had tried to make him see sense, telling him that it was time to let the young man rest and that he had done all he could. But it was Father Mulcahy's haunting words that finally made BJ give up his fight.

"You've done your job, BJ and now it's time for me to do mine," he had said, with a quiet determination to his manner.

BJ finally accepted defeat. Hawkeye had then walked to the clock on the wall and moved the hands to 12:05am, declaring that that soldier had made it. In that moment – and for the sake of the dead man's children - the unanimous decision had been made to fake the death certificate. For once, death hadn't won. But it was a poignant victory.

Margaret's eyes misted over as she recalled the incident. There were so many memories of indescribable moments of emotions that had truly shaken her to the core. And they were all memories that only those remarkable people who shared them with her would understand.