It was only a handful of days later when Hawkeye was allowed to go to Tokyo and without me since I wasn't considered loyal enough to leave the area yet. The worst of it is that Frank and Margaret heard of some medical conference and thought Hawkeye the best to go since he would benefit the best from it. Not to mention, with the camp still saddened over Henry's passing, they thought him too nuts from this harsh pain and decided too that going to Japan was a vacation worth having since it would mean a Swampman out of their hair for a while.

Trapper was not pleased, I'll tell you what, and he was in worse shape than I was at the prospect of being without our favorite surgeon making a charge at the institution. He moaned about not going to Tokyo for two days after the announcement as Hawkeye packed his things and whistled in glee, clamoring about three glorious days without being in Korea. I even was very green with envy as Hawkeye chattered on and on about how much of a good time he was going to have and to sleep through the conferences too. He slapped his knees in laughter, giggled about the time to be had and even taunted Trapper with pictures of warm waters, war-free streets and even no night shifts.

Dean was even kicking around and was not too pleased with Hawkeye's antics, teasing us like he was and running his mouth, something I confessed to him while we drank at Rosie's before the Marines fought and closed the place down for a while. Dean's unit had also returned the day after Henry was announced dead and they all had been drinking like fish ever since, mourning his loss too. None of them liked Frank being in charge and decided to run to Dean for their orders since he outranked Frank by name alone, even though old Ferret Face had been a major for a few months longer, and that rubbed everyone wrong. Regardless, my brother had been kicking around and watched Hawkeye from afar. Just an hour before Hawkeye was due to depart from this hellhole, Dean came to the Swamp. Trapper and I had been playing a game of checkers (a là shot glass style) and had been drinking shots each time one of us reached the end of the board. Hawkeye, in his infinite wisdom, continued his bragging as Dean walked in.

"Heard you going to Tokyo since I've been here, Hawkeye," Dean said, something that slowed Hawkeye down a little with his packing frenzy. "It's been a nonstop announcement ever since. Care to tell us your secrets that kept us ugly for two days now?"

"What secrets, Dean?" Hawkeye managed to push some civilian clothes into his briefcase and clapped his hands like a child. "That I'm heading to paradise in Asia and you're not?"

"I'm heading for more training end of this year, so I might drop by Tokyo anyway," Dean managed to admit. "Being an officer and out there fighting has its perks, especially with the Morrison name."

"Aww, Dean, the career Army man. I thought you'd never confess that you're part of the problem."

"The Army is many things, Hawkeye, but the only problems with it are its ridiculousness. Being in the Army saved me and Jeanie, if you can believe that, and it made us see the world when we could have been trapped in Bloomington and misery. Now, quit your shit before someone slugs you. Not too many people are pleased to see you go. Your screaming about it makes it ten times worse."

"I'm not screaming. I'm excited."

"Same thing," Trapper chimed in. He jumped two of my pieces and reached the end of the board again, taking a shot of still gin.

"Hawkeye, do us all a favor and take your arrogant attitude elsewhere," Dean warned. "If you won't, I'd suggest taking up boxing with Father Mulcahy. I've got men who are sick, tired and even fried. I won't be able to control them if you continue down this road."

"I won't be able to save you," I added, kinging myself and taking another shot. I was buzzed, but I wasn't on the point of drunk yet, which wasn't where I wanted to be…yet.

"Ok, ok." Hawkeye put up his hands in defeat. "How about, what can I get all of you from Tokyo?"

"Real gin," I replied immediately.

"A geisha wrapped and packaged," Trapper added.

"Some food would be fine, if you can manage," Dean instantly chimed in, handing Hawkeye a rather large wad of money from his pockets. "My men have C rations and Mess Tent leftovers. It does them wonders if real bread and butter, chocolate or even milk was brought over."

"I'll do what I can," Hawkeye allowed gently as he pocketed the cash, picking up the last of his bags and leaving. Before he did though, he came over to me and Trapper, kissing both of us.

Trapper wiped the smooch away, feeling disgusted as it was on the lips too. "Really, Hawkeye? We'll see you in three days. I don't need any pretty farewells. Just leave it for the missus here."

I took mine with better grace, although I was still feeling rather upset that I was being left behind. "Goodbye, Love. Safe trip there and back."

Hawkeye said nothing more, waving at Dean (even Hawkeye knew better than to cross my older brother) and flagging down the nearest jeep heading out of the camp. He jumped right into the passenger's seat, flinging all of his things into the back seat with abandon, and yelled for his anxious driver to move forward to the land of plenty. As all three of us in the Swamp rolled our eyes collectively, we watched Hawkeye as he hooted down the road, reaching over the driver to honk the horn as he disappeared into the horizon.

"And good riddance for now," Trapper uttered, claiming another one of my pieces as his.

"He'll return and be as miserable as ever," I remarked confidentially.

Dean took a seat by us and made a move for me, which made me give him an evil eye. "Don't be bitter, you two," he said, jumping some of Trapper's pieces and taking a few shots himself. "There's a reason why Hawkeye was chosen above the others. Besides, Jeanie, you're right. He'll come back and be just as despondent as he was before."

A few hours went by and the three of us took turns playing checkers and drinking. By the time Radar entered the Swamp, a paper shaking in his hands, the three of us were slushed and quite wanting more. While we were not on duty tonight, it still annoyed us to see the short company clerk standing before us. He was afraid, I could tell, and he did not want to disturb us.

"Can I bother you Sirs for a minute?" Radar asked, unsure of himself.

"Radar, make yourself at home," Dean declared, taking a drink from the still and seating himself on Hawkeye's cot.

"Not for very long, I can't, Major," Radar admitted, clearing his throat to tell us that he had something imperative to say. "Captain McIntyre, Sir, I have some important news."

Trapper shook his head. "Can't it wait, Radar? I'm running a good streak here with Jeanie, ten jumps and a checkmate to her eight and two."

"Sir, you really need to hear this."

"Radar, whatever it is, stuff it in Frank's bag and punch it."

"Captain McIntyre, Sir, I can't. It involves you going home."

"What?" Trapper looked up at Radar with his drunken beady eyes. "I didn't hear you."

"It's true, Sir," Radar insisted, handing Trapper the paper in his hands. "You're going home. Your points came in. The Army is discharging you."

"Oh, my God," I muttered, turning to the company clerk. "This isn't a joke this time, is it, Radar? I'll make you two foot one if it is."

"Who cares, Jeanie?" Dean sprinted up and took the orders out of Trapper's hands in excitement, hardly reading it. "You know what this means, Trapper?"

"What?" Trapper asked, the only word he managed to say other than his words of disbelief.

"Celebration time." Dean picked up a nearby martini glass and handed it to Trapper, full to the brim. "Bottoms up!"

After that, I could not remember much of what happened. In that short period of only a few hours, we forgot where Hawkeye went to and why and only partied for this discharge. Trapper, Dean and I were so drunk on pure boredom. Without any wounded coming in either, we had all of the world spread out before us and we didn't care. Myself? Well, I personally was wild with abandonment, unwilling to commit myself to being responsible. Me, act like an adult when my whole world had been shattered and then taken away from me in a helicopter ride from hell? I think not.

A few details did not escape me though. Throughout the whole ordeal, events whirled around me that I had to keep in memory. The first was Dean leaving. He promised to be back in a few days, called to Seoul for some reason or another. The second was Trapper and his antics. He managed to get so excited about being shipped home to Boston that the second morning made him forget about his clothes…and he ran through the Mess Tent naked and screaming madly about leaving. The last bothered me the most, more so than ever before. As I sat around the Officers' Club with Klinger and Father Mulcahy as company night after night, I heard the news from Radar, the worst of its kind.

Trapper and his family now had custody of my daughter, my beautiful baby Shannon.

It was a blow to me. It was not fair either. In my mind, Shannon had been relatively safe with my mother. She had written to me about how Clarence was hardly at home and not paying attention anyway and how difficult it was to take care of the baby even though it was slowly becoming enjoyable. She was just getting used to it. Mom was saying that Shannon was sleeping through the night and was starting to eat five square meals a day before bedtime. Now, with the Army so uppity about Major Simmons and my stepfather, they decided that Trapper was the next best thing until they determined (well, Colonel Flagg) who Shannon's father is since nobody has stepped forward.

Louise McIntyre may have been resentful of the responsibility, but Trapper was taking it seriously. I didn't know when he heard the news though, try as he must to be obnoxious before his departure. I would know of it soon enough. He approached me the night before his exodus from Korea and the day Hawkeye was supposed to return. I had been drinking in the Officers' Club once more, listening to Father Mulcahy's piano playing and Klinger regaling escape stories. Bored, I tried seeing the bottle of a glass of gin, choosing not to listen to either of them tell me more happy news. I was content in my wretchedness, thinking of more ways to escape it as much as Klinger wanted out of the Army.

Trapper soon entered, seeing me by the counter. Immediately, he sat next to me, ordering a martini and another glass of gin for me. I didn't want to talk to him nor did I want his company, lucky sap that he was to go home. I had been too upset over what I felt was uncontrollable. I could not provide for my daughter and could not say where she's supposed to stay. I was a helpless as she was when she was born and hardly a mother, far away as I was.

"What's the matter, Jeanie?" Trapper inquired, seeing my sour face. "Cat got your tongue?"

Klinger served us the drinks. "Cut her off, Captain," he warned within my earshot, albeit it was said softly. "Take her home to the Swamp. She needs sleep."

"How many, Klinger?"

"She's had ten glasses, Sir. This makes eleven."

"Let it go, lady. I think she'll live down the embarrassment."

I said nothing. I stared at the empty glass before me and the new one set in front of me. I waited a few minutes before and drank again, wanting to throw up. I was so sick. I didn't want to be bothered by someone like Trapper. Let him go home in happiness or sadness…or whatever it was he was feeling. The way he was looking at me was serious. When I searched his face for some answers, I knew. I just knew.

I don't know why, but I'm feeling so sad.
I long to try something I never had.
Never had no kissing…
Oh, what I've been missing!
Lover man, oh, where can you be?

The night is cold and I'm so alone.
I'd give my soul just to call you my own.
Got a moon above me,
But no one to love me…
Lover man, oh, where can you be?

"Come on, Jeanie, dance with me," Trapper begged. "Please. For old time's sake. For a man about to go home and be without the company of a nurse."

"Not a chance," I managed to utter, starting in on my eleventh glass of gin. I was annoyed at being disturbed…as if I wasn't already.

"Can we talk? Dance a little and say goodbye?"

"If you want to, I guess."

"That's not an answer."

"When has this world given me answers that made sense anyway?"

Trapper searched into my grey eyes. "You're drunk."

"And I'm Bessie Smith too," I retorted, slamming my drink down. "Trapper, what the hell do you want from me?"

With a few heads turning to our argument, all interested in what was going to happen next, Trapper waved it all away. He managed to get me on my feet and into a corner table and away from the action. Bringing our drinks with him, he seated me and took the other chair. He tipped back in it, sipping his martini and staring at me like I was a new wonder of the ancient world. I was fascinating to him surely, but not that interesting to be used like a museum piece. I wanted nothing more to do with Trapper and felt so ashamed that he was stuck with my folly.

I've heard it said that the thrill
Of romance can be like a heavenly dream.
I go to bed with a prayer,
That you'll make love to me.
Strange as it seems…

Someday we'll meet
And you'll dry all my tears.
Then whisper sweet little things in my ear.
Hugging and a kissing…
Oh, what we've been missing…
Lover man, oh, where can you be?

"I wanted many things from you, Jeanie, but you've proven me wrong time and again that I really needed them," Trapper began, taking my hands into his as we had forsaken the alcohol for the time being. "Dance with me. We need to talk."

I declined again. My eyes could not focus. Billie Holiday just drifted in and out of my ears, all the while reminding me that I too had a lover that was coming back tomorrow and not seeing his friend off to Kimpo. It made my heart break into a million more pieces. As if seeing Shannon off wasn't enough, I now had to watch with my watery eyes as Trapper left us too. It was too painful and worse yet, he had to rub it in and have me make a fool out of myself and fumble on shaky feet. I had to listen for another minutes before I consented and allowed Trapper his final shuffle into the Korean night.

It was slow at first, I had to admit. Trapper was very good at keeping me steady and not tripping over tables and chairs. However, after a moment of silence, he tried working his mouth to speak. It seemed like he was trying out some conversations in his mind and thinking them through before talking. I was a sensible person and didn't care much for subtle hints, but I was impatient to hear Trapper. He wanted this dance. By God, he was getting it and a piece of my mind too!

"Trapper –" I started this time, my lips slurring and moving in motions I didn't know existed.

"Hush, babe," Trapper interrupted. "Now, let me talk. I'm trying to keep sober enough. I've drank enough to keep my wife away from me for three night at least. Now, I have to get this out before I go home. It's this. I don't need you to worry. Shannon will be well taken care of. I will pick her up in Bloomington and carry her safety back to Boston. Louise will not complain and she'll help out gladly. I promise you that. Do you understand?"

I nodded, close to tears now. "Trapper, I'm so sorry."

"Me too," he replied, kissing me on the lips so hard that I thought I couldn't breathe. I returned it, happy that he went no further and broke no code. Breaking away just as quickly, he added, "You need to take care of yourself too, Jeanie. You cannot grieve in a place like this forever. Don't forget. Just write to your little heart's content and I'll listen as I've always done."

I've heard it said that the thrill
Of romance can be like a heavenly dream.
I go to bed with a prayer,
That you'll make love to me.
Strange as it seems…

Someday we'll meet,
And you'll dry all my tears
Then whisper sweet little things in my ear
Hugging and a kissing…
Oh, what we've been missing.
Lover man, oh, where can you be?

Just as suddenly as it happened, Trapper departed as soon as the song ended, leaving me without a partner and without another prayer. Standing there awkwardly in the middle of the Officers' Club, I thought myself so silly and decided that heading back to my table was the best idea. I managed that, downing my last gin and thinking again about the God who never answered pleas from those who never believed. Klinger came by again and garbled about how he and Father Mulcahy were cutting me off. I waved him away too, trying to find Trapper and not seeing him. He had left without looking back and without me saying much in return.

I remembered crying and being lifted out of my seat some time later. I don't recall much after that except waking up some time later. As the early morning sunshine filtered through the tent, it blinded me before my eyes forced themselves opened. I sat up and decided that the world was worth seeing, stretching out my limbs. I realized that I was in the Swamp and quite alone, sitting up in what was Trapper's cot. Hawkeye was not back yet and Trapper had already taken his things and ran out the door. Reveille was outside and Frank and Margaret were taking roll call with faithful Radar behind the pair.

How convenient of me to miss it.

I got up, finding some clothes to put on, no matter who had them last or how dirty they were. As I did, I heard something creaky pull into camp. I forgot about covering myself nicely and looked out in my shorts and shirt, shading my vision for the wheeled ride that hobbled into camp and paid his driver for a job well done. An argument ensued and the passenger that insulted the majors now stood hungover and too tired for words.

Hawkeye was back…and nobody told him about Trapper yet.

Lyrics are from Billie Holiday's "Lover Man", even though it had been sung before and by many other great artist of the era. :)