Chapter 11 – Hawkeye: Grown-up Christmas List
Sidney had managed to choke down half of his petrified fruitcake when a firmly wrapped figure entered the mess tent. The soldier quickly approached the coffee pot and banged his fist on the tabletop when he realized there was no coffee to be had. Accepting this rather annoying fate, he ducked into the kitchen in search of some cider, tea, or hot chocolate, anything to warm his bones that had been chilled in the frigid, biting cold. Because supplies were running low and wouldn't be coming in until after Boxing Day or the weather settled down - which ever came first – the personnel had to content themselves with whatever was on hand. Moments after his brief disappearance, the military man reemerged with a mug in hand and a nostalgic grin hi-lighting his wind-rosied features. He crossed the tent and promptly parked his patoot on the bench where the uneaten meal had been set.
"Hi, Sidney, ya come all the way up here to have some pre-barfed fruitcake that even the North Koreans won't touch? Hawkeye queried, laying his scalding mug of hot chocolate and heaping mini-marshmallows on the corner of his tray next to a single piece of home made fudge. "Beej need the latrine?"
"The cake's not so bad … that's if you enjoy eating desserts that can be used to build bunkers. As for BJ, he'll be back in a few minutes; he wanted to call Peg and wish her a Merry Christmas," the visiting major smiled before he poked another stony bite into his mouth. After a moment and a brief look in his eyes that clearly stated that he was grateful not to have lost a filling, Sidney swallowed the bite and briefly excused himself so he could get a glass of water in which he could dip his eatable rocks and soften them to a texture that wouldn't give the local dentist job security.
When the shrink returned, Hawkeye was gingerly lifting his cup so he could test the liquid's temperature before hastily taking a sip and burning his tongue so badly it would leave him lisping for two days. When a marshmallow rolled off the top of the heap and landed on the tray with a dull thud, the chief surgeon set his steaming cocoa aside and picked up the white weight between his thumb and index finger.
"Hear ye hear ye! We have the confession of a mini-marshmallow you can break a tooth on; in fact I wouldn't be surprised if it could be used for a false tooth!" he boldly proclaimed as he repeatedly dropped the sugary bead against his tray. Lifting it between his fingers again, he continued to ramble,
"Just load these into our troops' guns, and they can pick off enemy soldiers one by one. We might want to save these in the event we want to start a rock garden in the compound or give them to General Embry for the bottom of his fish tank. If they rolled better, I could send them back to Crabapple Cove and tell the children they are Korean marbles."
Sensing that Hawk was using jokes to cover up his distressed feelings, Sidney finished chewing his latest bite of soaked fruitcake and tried to change the subject to one he felt should be addressed.
"Before he stepped out, BJ said that you two had a rough night in OR."
"A rough night doesn't begin to describe it, Sidney. Christmas isn't the time to rot in a war zone and watch someone die right before your eyes. I hate war … I mean I really hate it." The raven haired physician brooded, taking a sip from his cup and finding he needed to wait another minute before he could safely drink it. He then pulled a pen and pad from his pocket and began to write.
"Another letter to your father?"
"No. You'd have me locked up in the wack-ateria if I told you who I'm writing."
"Hawkeye, you're not the first G.I. I've seen overhear who has written to Santa Clause asking for the war to end. If it helps you cope with all you're going through over here, then, by all means, go ahead."
Do you remember me? I
sat upon your knee
I wrote to you with childhood fantasies
Well,
I'm all grown-up now and still need help somehow.
I'm not a child
but my heart still can dream
So here's my lifelong wish my
grown-up Christmas list
Not for myself but for a world in need
"You got me, Sidney, I'm writing to Santa … thirty-two years old and I'm sending a Christmas list to Santa like a little kid. Maybe it's not for a bunch of toys or even my own personal nurse; it's … it's uh … not just stuff for me. It's for everybody who feels the same way," The meatball surgeon sighed as he scrawled his wish list on the paper. "You might think my sprinkles have slid off my Christmas cookie, but an end to war is just the first thing I put on there. I'm also asking for an end to loneliness, a way to heal broken hearts, and for the world to be a better place.
"You know something; I don't think that's crazy at all. It's normal to want to make the world a better place … especially at Christmas time, and you're a man who can't stand to see death, destruction, or depression. Some might say that writing such a letter is a form of self therapy, an excellent way to cope with all that goes on around a war zone."
"And all that's going on at home … or not going on at home," Hawkeye muttered before partaking of his hot cocoa.
No more lives torn
apart
That wars would never start,
And time would heal all
hearts
And everyone would have a friend
And right would always
win
And love would never end
This is my grown-up Christmas
list
"What did you mean by that, Hawkeye?" Sidney arched his eyebrows, wanting to know why his companion made that somber comment that touched his heart.
"I'm talking about Dad. Every year after the holidays are over, I have to find out from his sister that he spent them all alone. The year before last, Dad got the flu and was too contagious to be around anybody; last year, Auntie Nan said everyone was so sure he'd been invited to someone else's house that it turned out he never went anywhere. Auntie Nan thought the pastor was having him over; the pastor thought Dad was with Toby Wilder and his family; the list goes on. If it wasn't for my being stupid and not wanting Dad to replace Ma with a stepmother I hardly knew, he wouldn't be spending the holidays alone. After all he did for me … giving me a mountain of Christmas presents, buying me clothes, feeding me, putting a roof over my head, sending me to college, how do I repay him … by dooming him to a life long broken heart."
"You can't blame yourself for your father's not remarrying; as a child you'd have been powerless to stop it if he was bound and determined to take a new wife. You may have disapproved of the marriage, but your father felt it was better for all involved to remain single rather than be a husband in a miserable family where one member didn't accept another."
"But even if that was true, no present I send to him can make up for his rattling around in that house by himself on Christmas, or any other time for that matter."
As children we
believed the grandest sight to see
Was something lovely wrapped
beneath our tree.
Well heaven surely knows that packages and
bows
Can never heal a hurting human soul
A reminiscent sparkle shone in Hawkeye's cerulean eyes as he swallowed another mouthful of cocoa and glob of melted marshmallows.
"After Ma died, Dad used to make me hot chocolate like this and pile the marshmallows on top until they fell out and rolled all over the kitchen table. Too bad I can't do something like that for him; just to show him I'm grateful for all he did for me and how much I really do love him."
"Perhaps when BJ is off the phone, you can call your father and tell him how you're feeling. You would get to hear his voice for the first time in I don't know how long and also see that he doesn't have to spend at least some of the holiday alone. It should be Christmas morning in Maine right about now." Sidney suggested, stuffing another waterlogged bite into his mouth.
"You know, Sidney, I think I will; it'll be good to hear his voice again." Hawkeye smiled, lifting his mug so he could finish his hot drink.
When he put the empty cup on his tray, some melted marshmallow stuck to his nose, causing Sidney to snicker. Realizing the reason for the shrink's laughter, the surgeon quickly reached for his paper napkin and dabbed away the sugary zit. He then ate half of his dinner while working on his wish list. By the time he had run out of things to write and lost his appetite for the Army's nasty excuse for food, Sidney had cleaned his plate, guzzling the rest of his water in hopes of washing some of the yucky taste from his tongue.
"I don't know how they do it, but the fruit cake gets worse every year," the therapist commented dryly as he grabbed his tray and set it by the dirty dish bin. "Shalom, Hawkeye!" he called to the still seated surgeon before he donned his parka and exited for the O club.
Sinking his teeth into the piece of fudge Colonel Potter had given him, Hawkeye found his mood lifted slightly at the thought of phoning home. Nobody could make him forget his cares like his happy-go-lucky father; and he wanted to show the solitary elderly man how much he truly loved him. Despite his elevated mood, he did make a silent Christmas wish that someday there would be no more war, no more loneliness or depression, and for the world to be a better place where joy reigned supreme.
No more lives torn
apart
That wars would never start
And time would heal all
hearts
And everyone would have a friend
And right would always
win
And love would never end
This is my grown-up Christmas
list
"Hawk!" one Army Eskimo called out to the other, his voice muffled by not only his scarf, but the howling wind.
"Beej!" Hawkeye attempted to be heard through his own scarf and the winds that threatened to whip his words away.
"As a native of New England, I hate to admit this, but it's nights like this when I wish Christmas was in the summertime!"
"Well, to have a green Christmas, you have to go to New Zealand, Australia, South America … or Mill Valley! Where ya headed?"
"Gonna call Dad and wish him a Merry Christmas; maybe I can't be with him, but at least I can talk to him for a few minutes!"
"Good ole Sidney; he suggested I do the same thing. I just got off the phone with Peg and Erin! Hearing their voices was the best Christmas present I ever got since I came to this crummy place!"
"Looks like it's my turn next!"
"Hope you enjoy your call as much as I did!" BJ hollered to the departing form, waving happily until he could no longer see the tall man's shadow.
Hawk trudged across the compound and ducked into the warmth and safety of the company clerk's office, grateful to be out of the harsh climate that seemed to decline rapidly within only the last hour. Shedding his protective layers, he warmed himself by the small stove, intent on placing his call the second he completely thawed out. Settling in the chair, he grabbed hold of the receiver in his left hand and turned the phone's crank with his right.
"Hi, Sparky, Merry Christmas. I need to place a stateside phone call to Dr. Daniel Pierce in Crabapple Cove, Maine. His number is Klondike 5-6477. Thanks." Not claiming to be the most patient man on the face of the earth, Hawkeye anxiously sat waiting for the jumble of static, clicks, and trilling telephone rings to give way to a tinny representation of his beloved father's voice.
"Pierce residence," the older man's words crackled to life over the line that connected the international call.
"Dad…" was all the young captain could choke out, momentarily feeling as if he had been catapulted back in time to the days where he, as a child or teenager, felt as if nothing could go wrong as long as dear ole Dad was there with him.
What is this
illusion called the innocence of youth?
Maybe only in our blind
belief can we ever find the truth
"Ben? Is that you, son?" The excited inflections in Daniel's voice was strong enough to transcend the vast distance that lay between the two members of the Pierce family! "Merry Christmas, kiddo!"
"Merry Christmas, Dad." A cozy feeling of security and warmth hovered over Hawkeye and bundled itself around him like a fuzzy king size blanket with the satiny edges that one loves to use to tickle the nose.
"You have no idea how much I wish I was there celebrating with you right now instead of being stuck in this God forsaken place. I wanna be there sitting by the fireplace eating the finger foods you used to fix for us to graze over through the day; I miss the way we used to crumple the ripped up wrapping paper into balls and have a contest over who can get the most into the fire; I even miss trying to set up Ma's Nativity scene on Grandpa's drop-leaf table in the sun room, only to find out we put all the pieces in different boxes … and then we spent half the day digging them all out before we put them up."
"Do you remember when you were nine, and you set up the trains I gave you around the Nativity scene?"
"I was telling BJ about that a few hours ago. I used to give the wise men a ride to Bethlehem in the caboose."
"Well, Jim and Lawrence Wilder are having a ball with those trains now. Jim even put Mary, Joseph, and Baby Jesus in the caboose and started up the trains on the slowest speed, claiming he didn't want Baby Jesus to get queasy on the ride."
"Toby's kids are there?" Hawk gasped in disbelief, staring incredulously at the switchboard in front of him.
"We had an ice storm last week, and a tree branch fell on their roof; they're staying with me until the house is habitable again."
Benjamin Franklin Pierce heaved a sigh of relief upon hearing this news. Sorry as he was to hear that Toby's house was damaged, he was filled with joy that his dad wouldn't be forced to spend the holiday season all by himself.
"Dad, I don't know how long until they cut me off; would you wish Toby and his family a Merry Christmas for me?"
"I'll do better than that. He's right here…" A brief pause elapsed before the voice of a younger man with a thick New England accent manifested.
"Hawkeye? Is that you? I haven't heard from you since you called me up to tell me about that dream you had of me wiping out on a sled!"
"Can't believe it's been that long, Toby."
"I think I owe you an apology for that ding-a-ling we had the last time we talked. I uh … found out what happened to that money I said you owed me; I forgot I stashed it in my old high school yearbook as soon as you paid me back. I … found it when I was cleaning out the disaster area that was once my attic. I'm sorry I jumped all over ya like that, especially since you sounded like you were going outta your mind over the phone that time."
"Forget about it, Toby; the important thing is you're all right and you and your family have a place to stay until your house is livable again. Merry Christmas, pal!"
"Merry Christmas, buddy! Lemme give ya back to your dad; hold on!"
"Captain Pierce," Sparky suddenly appeared on the line. "I can't keep this connection open much longer."
"Dad, they're about to cut off the call. Do me a favor and tell everybody that I wish them a Merry Christmas, will ya?"
"You bet I will, son."
No more lives torn
apart
That wars would never start
And time would heal all
hearts
And everyone would have a friend
And right would always
win
And love would never end, oh
This is my grown-up Christmas
list
This is my lifelong Christmas wish.
This is my grown-up
Christmas list
Heart tugging good-byes were rendered by the two Pierce men, who unbeknownst to the other were both welling up with mists of sentiment in their eyes. Hawkeye hung up the phone as soon as the silence put an end to the interference. Although the war would carry on and most of the items on Hawk's wish list remained mere wishes, he felt content that there was one less man in the world spending this sacred holiday all alone. With a grin threatening to split his handsome face in two, Hawkeye bundled up and made his way back to the mess tent so he could hopefully catch up with BJ, and they could rejoice in each other's happiness!
