A/N: I know that Andrew was born during the show. But they rapidly aged him. He was picking on his sister during one episode and taking trombone lessons during Henry's final episode so that is the age I am going by. And Radar has a bunny named Cotton. Thank you so much for the reviews!:)

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Radar didn't think about Henry every day, but he missed him a lot. It was hard not to think of his gentle smile, his good hearted wit and his friendly banter. It was the little things that reminded Radar of Henry. Every time he saw a thermometer he was reminded of the one that Henry gave him. When he walked into the Colonel's office and saw Sherman Potter there it was hard not to think of the father figure that sat there prior to his arrival. During the weekly poker games the guys put together Radar almost wanted to save a seat for his lost friend. Henry Blake was lost but his spirit was everywhere in the 4077.

There were so many things Radar had wanted to say but hadn't had the opportunity. They had talked about getting together after the war but never set a date. They had mentioned Radar's visiting Illinois but would what if the reverse was true? What would Henry have been like in Iowa? Of course, being the good and loyal family man that he was, he never would have left Lorraine and the kids. That was one of the reasons Radar respected the colonel so much. Instead he imagined what a conversation between the two of them might have been like had they met up.

"Hey kiddo." Said Henry, smoking his trademark cigar at the local café where they agreed to meet.

"Hello, sir. Good to see you. It's been a long time." Radar was so nervous that he spilled his Coca-Cola. Henry quickly grabbed some napkins and wiped up the mess before Radar could.

"Yes it has. So tell me, how's farm life treating you? How are the crops this year? And knock it off with the 'sir' business, will ya? We're out of the service and I really don't need a reminder of my time over there. No offense."

"Of course, sir. I mean, I'm sorry. Okay." Radar smiled nervously. The waitress thankfully broke up the moment by delivering another drink. "The crops are doing real good. Ma says we might need to hire some help for a few weeks. Uncle Ed says that's nonsense, there's nothing the three of us can't handle. We just have to add another hour to every day. We had a burst of rain that helped things along. It gets real exciting around the house with the two of them trying to make up their minds. How is your family, sir, I mean Colonel?"

Henry frowned at the title. He sure didn't need another reminder of his military service. He was home now and that was where he belonged. "Oh, they are great. Remember how I lost all that weight? Well I've put it back on, thanks to Lorraine's cooking. The kids are doing well. Andrew's keeping up with his trombone lessons and to be honest is driving me nuts! Janie's joined the Girl Scouts. Molly's planning sleepovers with her friends and I'm telling you Radar, there's nothing like being home."

"I'll say!" The corporal agreed.

The food arrived, and the men grew silent. Finally Henry spoke up.

"Say, Radar. Remember that time we had a sniper in the camp? You saw more of me in the shower than Lorraine ever has."

Radar blushed, while Henry laughed.

"Seriously, you're a good egg. I knew you'd be alright. It's been good to see you."

"It's been real good to see you too, sir." Radar couldn't help it. Henry Blake would always be 'sir.'

00000000

Radar was tending to his menagerie of animals when one of them caught his eye. Cotton the rabbit hadn't touched her food for the third day, and it appeared that she'd gotten sick. Immediately he thought of one person who might be able to help him.

He grabbed the rabbit and ran to the Swamp.

"Hawkeye." He knocked on the door. "You gotta help me!"

"Open." Said the surgeon who was getting ready to pour himself a glass of his bottle of Japanese scotch. He set it down on the ground as soon as he saw his company.

Radar walked in, quiet disturbed. "It's Cotton. Something's wrong with her. She's not eating. She's real sick. You gotta do something!" he pleaded.

"I'm not sure of what I can do. I'm not a vet. What are you feeding her?"

"Fresh grass."

"Give her dried grass and plenty of water. It sounds like she has a parasite."

"Gee thanks! I never would have thought of that." In Radar's excitement he loosened his grip on the rabbit. It hopped out of his arms and on to the floor, knocking over the scotch in the process. Hawkeye quickly picked up the bottle which was now half empty.

"Oh geesh, Radar! Grab that gosh darn bunny." The two men made a mad dash, running in circles before Hawkeye finally captured it.

"Thank you, Hawkeye. You saved Cotton's live twice now." Radar declared.

"Thanks. Now do me a favor and get that thing back in its cage before it knocks over any more bottles."

As Radar left, Hawkeye looked at the glass bottle. As the day progressed the temperature had increased along with his thirst. Hawkeye found himself unusually bored as B.J. was working post-op. Frank was in Tokyo. What was a man to do? That bottle was calling his name. What a waste of a perfectly good glass of alcohol, he thought. Or was it. What if B.J.'s right? What if this was a bad batch? The dangers were real. He could go blind. He could die. Is that something he was prepared to deal with? Did he need a drink that badly that he was willing to play Russian roulette with his life? What did this say about him? It was time to throw out the rest of the bottle. It couldn't be that bad, it was already half gone anyhow. What a shame. Sometimes you bite the bullet.

Just like sometimes you hear the bullet. The title of his childhood friend's never-to-be finished book flashed through Hawkeye's mind. The friend he watched die right before his eyes. As hard as he tried the surgeon just couldn't save the live of Tommy Gillis. The bloody image of his friend still haunted him to this day. The knowledge that he couldn't save his friend was something he would never be able to shake for as long as he would live. Tommy's last words still echoed through Hawkeye's ears. And then there was the man who got him through Tommy's death, a man who would soon be gone himself- Henry Blake.

"There are certain rules about a war. And rule number one is young men die." Henry had told him. the terribly prophetic statement stung into a painful memory.

He needed a drink. He didn't just want one, he had to have one.

Henry was watching the scene in frustration. He saw how badly his friend was hurting and knew that there was nothing he could do to help him. Not with his emotional pain anyhow. There was one man who was not going to die, not tonight.

Hawkeye grabbed the bottle.

"What the…" he started to curse as the bottle slipped from his hands and crashed to the ground. .

If only Hawkeye knew.