Chapter Ten. Charles.
Winchester, Houlihan, Hunnicutt, Pierce and Klinger emerged from the Officers Club. Klinger led the way to where Flagg and his four POWs had gathered, outside of the camp boundary. BJ could not follow, but ran back to his duty station in Post-op.
Flagg held an M-16 on the four men, maintaining a discreet distance from them as he saw the MASH personnel run up to them.
"No further, Major! These four are extremely dangerous! I need to secure them somewhere until morning, when my people can send a bus to collect them."
Charles slowly approached, looking the prisoners over as well as he could and keeping an eye on Flagg. He was touchy in normal circumstances; Charles had no idea how Flagg would be in something like this.
"Yes, Colonel, the enlisted personnel should be able to arrange the VIP tent adequate to your needs tonight," he said softly, not wanting to alarm either the prisoners nor Flagg.
Margaret approached as well, Pierce and Klinger letting her lead the way.
Charles heard Margaret come up along his right side, expecting her to hang back and behind him, let him do the speaking. He was shocked to see her continue forward toward Flagg and the four Chinese men.
Before he could say a word, they heard two shots ring out from the brush to their left. They didn't even have time to react when they saw Flagg fall to his knees, clutching his right arm, dropping his M-16. The prisoner closest to him spun around, grabbed the sidearm from Flagg's holster, turned and aimed at the American woman facing them.
"NO!" Charles screamed as he saw the barrel of the gun aim directly at Margaret. He flung himself in front of her, simultaneously pushing her to the ground, as two more gunshots split the night. Flagg recovered enough to grab the gunman around the knees, dragging him to the ground and punching him into unconsciousness.
The three other prisoners had used the distraction to run into the brush from which the initial gunshots had come, leaving their comrade unconscious on the ground, Flagg staggering to stand up, and Margaret dazed from being tackled to the ground.
And Charles.
"Oh my GOD! CHARLES!" Hawkeye got to him first. "Klinger, get two stretchers and my medical kit! Tell BJ to get out here and check on Flagg! Get OR ready! Check the blood supply for B-positive!"
Hawkeye tore Winchester's shirt open, doing a quick assessment of the wounds. Margaret shook herself out of her daze and crawled to them.
"Charles, Charles," Pierce recited to himself, checking his roommate and friend over. Charles' breathing was extremely labored. Hawkeye could hear the dreaded sucking sound of a pneumothorax, the air entering and exiting through a hole in the upper right chest.
He looked down, saw blood oozing out of the upper abdomen. His other fear was realized: a bullet had hit the liver, most likely the portal vein. Fortunately the blood was oozing, not gushing.
He looked around desperately. Where WERE they?
Margaret tore off her uniform shirt and ripped it open, making two compresses. It was a clean uniform, and she'd showered recently, so it was better than nothing. Not sterile but it was all they could do until the medical kit and proper bandages arrived. She pressed one hard against the upper chest wound and Hawkeye pressed the other against the liver entry wound, not so hard as to interfere with the labored motions of the diaphragm as Charles struggled for breath.
He looked up to see BJ, Klinger, several orderlies and most of the nurses running up. Father Mulcahy was with them, and he ran to Flagg and the unconscious prisoner with BJ.
Hawkeye and Margaret maintained pressure on Charles' injuries as the orderlies lifted him to the stretcher, and all four ran to the Pre-op ward to prepare for emergency surgery. Nurse Kellye checked his vitals as Margaret and Hawkeye scrubbed and gowned, wishing they could hurry the process, knowing they could not. To not scrub thoroughly presented a further risk of infection, and Charles would be lucky to live without that added problem!
"Damn, Margaret, HE is our thoracic surgeon!"
Margaret was not able to speak. All she could do right now was react, follow the procedures that she'd done a thousand times and that were part of her muscles, nerves and hands. She would have later to collapse into hysterics, which is what she wanted so desperately to do.
Pierce heard BJ's arrival with his patient, who was protesting loudly that he was perfectly capable of walking.
"BJ! Get in here and SCRUB! If he's so capable, the HELL with him, let him go suture himself!" Hawkeye yelled angrily. "KLINGER! Call Battalion Aide, tell them we need Potter here NOW! If you have to, YOU go get him! Or tell them to send him by chopper! Kellye, how're his stats?"
She yelled from the Pre-op ward, "Pressure is 88 over 63, pulse is 110 and thready, temp is 97.1!"
"Oh, God, he's going into shock." He scrubbed faster and harder. Almost done!
BJ came in and began scrubbing as well. "Pneumothorax?"
"Yeah, you take that, I'll be on the liver. KELLYE!" he yelled again.
"Doctor?"
"How's the B-positive?"
"It should be enough, Doctor, but we have donors! I'll send someone to start rounding them up."
Father Mulcahy entered the scrub area, hoping he could help in some way. "Hawkeye, Klinger and I are both Charles' blood type! I haven't donated yet this week, I can give at least two pints."
"Two, no more, Father. Drink a LOT of water later, don't forget! And thank you! Get Klinger in here too so we can tap him. Go check the rolls and see who else is B-positive."
"Right!" he yelled, and he was off.
Hawkeye looked at Margaret as they finished scrubbing. She helped him into his gown, mask and gloves, and got her own suit on as well as he left her.
BJ watched the two leave, and Nurse Baker enter, preparing his own gloves, gown and mask. It was going to be a LONG night!
Two hours later, the two surgeons were still in the OR. One of the nurses had tended to Flagg's wounds. Father Mulcahy, as the ranking officer while the others were in surgery, had arranged for the lone prisoner to be held in the VIP tent, two sentries on both sides, Flagg in the tent.
Mulcahy had organized the donors who were B-positive, 23 all told, all of whom anxiously stood in line to donate as much as they humanly could. Some were disappointed as records revealed they'd already donated the maximum they could that week. Father Mulcahy felt very bad turning them away, but thanked them profusely for their offers and asked them to pray for Dr. Winchester instead.
In the end, they had collected 28 pints of blood. Surely THAT would be enough, he thought, amazed at the quantity. Major Winchester WILL be pleased when he learned how the unit had rallied around him. Mulcahy had to think positively, and sent another prayer up for good measure.
He'd learned, over time, how serious liver injuries could be. The liver was a master organ and filtered the blood supply. All blood passed through the liver from the intestines, via the portal vein. It was also a key organ in body temperature maintenance. It had so many functions that biologists did not know everything it did. Fortunately, it could re-generate itself, so if parts of the liver were dissected there was a distinct possibility it would grow the missing portions back.
The priest went to the OR window, watching the surgeons operating on their friend. How difficult it must be, to operate on someone you know so well and care for so much as a friend. Mulcahy knew that BJ and Hawkeye, and Charles, often sniped at one another and traded barbs, but this incident was proving well how the Swamprats felt about one another.
He heard the sound of a chopper coming in. Oh, Lord, please let it be Colonel Potter, not WOUNDED!
He joined Klinger as they ran to a jeep to drive to the pad. As they arrived, the chopper was leaving and Colonel Potter was ready to make his way down the dirt road, in the dark.
"Klinger! How is he?" He asked as he threw his gear in back, where Mulcahy had climbed, relinquishing the front seat to Potter.
"Been in surgery for over two hours, sir!"
"What's wrong with him?"
Mulcahy piped in. "Pneumothorax in the upper right quadrant, bullet wound to the liver, probably the portal vein. BJ is on the pneumothorax and Hawkeye is on the liver. His vitals initially indicated he was going into shock, although I don't know how he's been doing this last hour or so."
Potter turned to look at the Father, impressed with the summation. "You've been listening, Padre. Anything else?"
"Yes, sir. Colonel Flagg has a single POW now. The other three escaped into the brush when first the Colonel and then Dr. Winchester were shot. Flagg's got two gun wounds to the upper arm that one of the nurses took care of. Hawkeye refused to let BJ waste his time on the Colonel when Charles needed them both. I organized the donors for B-positive, myself and Klinger here included, and we collected 28 units of blood all together."
Potter nodded his head, even more impressed. "Excellent, Father. So you are basically in charge?"
Mulcahy smiled shyly. "Yes, sir, but I consider myself relieved. Very relieved. It's good to have you back, Colonel. I was dreading a wave of wounded coming in with all three surgeons unavailable!"
"Yes, thank the Lord for that at least!"
"I already have, sir!"
Potter pointed. "Park there, Klinger, I'm going to scrub in!"
Hawkeye looked up as he saw Colonel Potter come in, gowned and scrubbed and ready to help. "Welcome back, Colonel! I wish it could have been under better circumstances."
"So do I, Pierce. How's he doing?"
Hawkeye ran down the list of problems and how Charles was faring as far as pressure and pulse.
BJ had repaired the pneumothorax, but was reluctant to leave his friends. He would stick it out as long as Hawkeye and Charles would. He felt sick inside, seeing Charles' pale and still face, the mask covering him.
Kellye had insisted on being the anesthetist while Margaret and Baker assisted the two doctors.
All Potter and BJ could do now was observe and be ready if there were any additional problems. They both leaned in as far as they could without blocking Hawkeye's light or vision.
"Good, Hawkeye. Looks like you're ready to wrap it up," Potter said. "Kellye?"
"Pressure's holding at 112 over 73, Doctor, pulse is steady and strong at 76, temperature's back to normal."
"Excellent. The Father said he'd started going into shock."
Hawkeye said, "Yes, initially. It was pretty dicey at first. You can see my op report. Margaret, I'm ready to close."
"Yes, Doctor," she said, handing him the suture and needle. What a night, she thought.