When Klinger had heard the news about Bobbi's encounter with Major Houlihan, he was sitting at Rosie's Bar, waiting to tie into his fourth beer of the night.

It was some new Private, assigned to supply, who was running off at the mouth about the "crazy, two-bit broad in Post OP."

If Klinger had been one more beverage into his miserable night, he would have flattened that no good Private like a pancake. He was still sober enough though that he realised beating the teenager within an inch of his life wasn't going to help things in the long run. Instead, he paid his tab and proceeded to march to Colonel Blake's office.

As was customary to many a night, the Colonel was still hunched over his desk, busy with signing the various forms that have come about through the day.

"Colonel, we need to have a word, man to man!"

Klinger's voice bellowed throughout the tiny office like a lion in a cave. The Colonel looked up from his desk, surprised to see that for once, this type of interruption wasn't accompanied by a floral patterned dress and lace veil.

"What is it, Klinger! Can't you see I'm swamped?"

"Bobbi Rosalynn Morango is not a nut case!. How dare you degrade a woman like her, by having her be subjected to the scrutiny of a military shrink. So she threw one lousy bowl at Major Houlihan. If it were me, and the Major did not belong to the gender she does – I would have thrown more than a bowl at the Major's wretched face!"

"Klinger, since when do you think being evaluated by a shrink is undignified? I mean, by golly, you were walking around in a bright orange, feathered leotard ten days ago!" Henry knew what he was talking about, but was still flabbergasted by the Corporal's statement.

"I'm just a nut trying to get out of Uncle Sam's grip!" Klinger paused for a moment to lower his booming voice. He put his hands on the Colonel's desk, crouched over so that he was staring Henry in the eye, much in the way a wild cat stalks its prey. "If you let the Major let whatever shrink drives into that compound tomorrow declare Captain Morango mentally unstable – I swear to you now Colonel – I will do everything in my power to make your life a living nightmare. Your military reputation, personal practice, and personal life in Bloomington will be torn to the to the corners of aljahim. I've got a lot of Italian-American Uncle's that are very influential businessmen."

Henry looked Klinger up and down. Over that past week, he had seen a side of the young Corporal that he could have never imagined. Underneath the character that he always knew was a rouse, was an earnest, forthright young man. He didn't know the details of Captain Morango and Klinger's relationship – but it was clear that he did not fool around when it came to her.

"Klinger, I gave you my word days ago that I'm on your side about all of this stuff. For Pete's sake – if it were up to me – I wouldn't have even batted an eye at what the Captain, did to Major Houlihan. But before Mr and Mrs Washington came to me with the complaint, they had already gone over my head and called General Clayton." Henry explained with disdain.

Klinger put his hands on Henry's desk and bent down slightly so that their eyes were level. He stared down the commanding officer for a solid moment before responding, "Alright – but remember what I said, Colonel."

And with that, the Corporal promptly spun on his heels and left Henry alone before the Colonel had a chance to say anything else. Henry immediately opened his desk drawer and pulled out a glass and a bottle of bourbon. He poured himself a rather large drink and downed it all in one gulp.

Whoever the psychiatrist was that H.Q. was sending down tomorrow – Henry hoped that he'd have enough of a brain to see past Major Houlihan's, khaki coloured rage.


Trapper barely got a wink of sleep the entire night. The thought of the events that were going to transpire come daylight made his stomach churn. At 04:30 he finally gave up and rolled out of bed.

As he mindlessly gathered his shower supplies and towel, Frank Burns suddenly awoke.

"Hey keep it down, I'm trying to sleep here!" Frank shouted angrily.

"Shut up, Frank," Trapper replied automatically.

"Oh yeah, and what if I don't?" Frank whined like a child.

"Then I'll shut you up, Frank," Hawkeye grumbled as he rolled over from his side onto his back.

"What's that supposed to mean you big buttinsky," Frank shot back.

Trapper rolled his eyes as he out of the Swamp, leaving the two doctors to hash it out. He had gotten far too little sleep to care. Once he made it to the men's showers and was under the stream of lukewarm water, his mind finally began to stop spinning its wheels so fast.

As he lathered his body with soap, he could feel his muscles soften with relaxation. The solitude and quietness of the camp at the early hour also brought him some peace of mind.

All night long Trapper had gone through varying stages of anxiety to anger. Everything from Louise's less than pleasant letter, to fretting over having to tell Bobbi that Major Houlihan was wanting to press charges against her. It seemed like the world was spinning out of control (well more than normal) and it made him feel helpless.

After his shower, he begrudgingly made his way back to the Swamp. Much to his relief, both Hawkeye and Frank had fallen back asleep. Maybe they have knocked each other out – with those two anything was possible.

He threw his damp towel in the corner by his bunk, not caring enough to hang it up. Trapper then quickly dressed for a sweltering summer day, in just a t-shirt and pants and headed out the door. He then made his way across the compound to Post-OP.

When Trapper entered the ward, he had planned on checking in with the on-duty nurse. When he saw that it was Margaret, he aborted that plan and slipped in between the screens around Bobbi's bed.

Bobbi was sitting upright, propped up by multiple pillows. She would have preferred to be lying down, but apparently, she was at risk for postoperative She was wide awake when Trapper walked in.

"Hey there," Trapper greeted her in a lowered voice, not wanting to disturb the other patients.

"I guess I am not the only one who couldn't sleep."

"You guessed right," Trapper smiled.

Trapper grabbed her chart off the hook at the foot of her bed and sat down on a stool beside her bed. He glanced through Major Houlihan's scribblings, before telling her, "I hope that you got a little bit of shut eye."

"A bit."

"How are you feeling? Has Major Houlihan been treating you okay? It looks like she gave you a morphine shot at 02:30."

"I've been subjected to more friendly bedside manner in my time."

Trapper frowned and made a mental note to have a few stern words with Margaret, in Radar's office, after his talk with, Bobbi.

"Well, that's sort of why I couldn't sleep either…" Trapper tried to ease into the subject. "You see I thought you should hear the news from me, your doctor, instead of by the Major in a few hours."

"It's about that bowl I threw at her, isn't it?"

Trapper nodded. His heart sunk at the pained look on her face.

"Do you know the name of the shrink they're sending up here?"

"Uh - no" Trapper was caught off guard by Bobbi's question. He hadn't even told her yet about the required psychiatric review yet.

"Great…"

The gloom ever present in her tone made Trapper feel even lousier. He wanted to ask if Margaret had told her already about the impending visit by a psychiatrist. Before he could though, the Major herself made her presence known by an over dramatic clearing of her throat.

Trapper looked up from Bobbi and narrowed his eyes into a searing glare at Margaret, who was standing at the opening of the screens.

With her arms crossed, Margaret said, "Captain McIntyre, I need to have a word with you in private."

Bobbi thought that the sharp harshness in the Major's voice was enough to cut through glass. Why this woman seemed so miserable towards her was logical – in a way. However, the constant scowl on her face and her general disapproval of seemingly everybody was a mystery.

Bobbi looked at Trapper, showing him a meek smile as a silent okay for him to leave. Although she hadn't been at the 4077th long; Bobbi knew from eavesdropping in Post OP, that if he didn't go talk to Margaret, the Major would throw a fit which nobody wanted to deal with at such an early hour.

"Yes, we do need to have a word," Trapper agreed, obviously peeved at the Major.

After hanging up Bobbi's chart on the bed, he followed Margaret out of the ward, and into Radar's office.

Once they were both gone, Bobbi was back to being alone, isolated from the world by cotton fabric lined screens. She mulled over all the worries that had made her break down in Trapper's arms only a few hours prior.

Yes, Trapper was a stranger to her, but the fact that he cared enough to listen to her sob like a child really touched her.

She'd felt so alone in the world since she shipped out to Korea, from West Germany. At least there she had a few friends. When Bobbi was first posted there, she slowly warmed up to and became friends with a fellow nurse named Nancy, whom also happened to be her bunkmate. A few months after Bobbi had arrived on the base, Nancy attracted the attention of handsome Italian-American, bomber pilot named Percy. Once those two became an item and spent a significant amount of alone time together, Bobbi found herself spending time with a kindred spirit to her – Percy's twin brother Vinnie.

Together, she and Vinnie got themselves into a lot of trouble, which was often the result of enjoying a few too drinks many in the officer's club. The pair kept their relationship strictly non-romantic, because at that time Bobbi, was still technically involved with Max, back in the States.

She also had Max writing her faithfully every day – that is until the last few months of her posting when the letters start to become a scare oddity. It hurt her and was very confusing because he gave no explanation as to his lack of contact.

It was only until she was in Korea, that she had found out through some random wounded guy that they had gone to high school with, that Max, had married Laverne Esposito.

Right after that, the fighting in Pusan Perimeter got so intense that she had no time to – nor the energy – to process what had happened. Once the fighting had died down, and the stalemate at the thirty-seventh parallel was established, it slowly started to sink in.

Day by day, night by night, the dark feeling embedded in her soul, began to take hold. Eventually, Bobbi started to just act like a utopic military robot during the day. At night she had no choice but to dwell on the past. Eventually, her sheer exhaustion would be too much for her cognitive brain to battle, and she'd fall asleep in the wee hours of the morning. Then the draining process would start all over again.

A little over a month ago, she got an unexpected letter during mail call – it was from the 4077th. She could not believe her eyes when she saw that it was from Max.

Was he telling her that he had changed his mind and was asking for forgiveness? Or maybe he wanted his picture back?

Millions of thoughts ran through her head as she ran her right index finger under the lip of the envelope and tore open its seal.

Bobbi was surprised – one might even say pleasantly surprised – when the letter was just a short note, letting her know that he was stationed at the 4077th. Max also let her know that if she wanted to start writing back and forth that he'd like it.

Of course, there was no mention of his marriage to that witch Laverne. But what did Bobbi expect?

Her pride told her not to write back to him, but her empty heart's plea, of loneliness, won the debate.

She wrote about menial things, like how he was taking to the Army and Korea's ever temperamental weather. That continued on for a few months, and before she could reply to Max's last letter – she wound up at 4077th.

What would happen after she was fit enough to travel and go to the 121st Evac Hospital further south?

Would they just go on with their lives in the service, writing bullshit notes back and forth until he loses interest yet again?

Or would she even get the chance to go to an Evac hospital? Maybe this shrink coming in a few hours would declare her insane, and they'd throw her in a padded cell at Walter Reid and throw away the key.


"Hey wake up, come on Bobbi."

Her eyes slowly fluttered open at the sound of Max's voice. She squinted at the brightness of the room. She had no idea how long she had been out, but it was past 7:30 am because the ward was noisy and the ceiling lights were turned on.

"What the-"

"Look they're going to be here any minute Bobbi, but I had to warn you. The shrink is Sidney Freedman. He wouldn't give me a section eight months ago, but I think he is a good egg otherwise. Play it safe, and everything will be okay." Max snapped his head to the left at the sound of Major Houlihan's voice and a herd of footsteps coming out of Radar's office. "He plays poker here with Hawkeye and Trapper a lot, so I think he'll be on your side. Good luck."

He then quickly got up from the edge of her bed, and high tailed it out of her makeshift room.

Within seconds of his departure, Major Houlihan barged in, followed by Major Burns, Trapper, and somebody whom she had not met before. She assumed that the short stranger with dark eyes and curly black hair was Dr. Freedman.

"That's her," Frank announced in clear disdain, as he pointed at Bobbi.

The disgust on both Major's faces as they stared Bobbi down, angered her. Who were they to judge her?

"How are you feeling?" Trapper asked Bobbi, and she quickly flipped through her chart.

"Fine," Bobbi answered sharply while staring down Major Houlihan.

"The doctor I told you about earlier is here to have a chat with you," Trapper explained, pointing over his right shoulder to Dr. Freedman lingering in the doorway.

Sidney took this as his cue and pushed his way through Frank and Margaret to get closer to Bobbi's bed. He grabbed the stool to the left of Bobbi's head. He placed it so that Bobbi wouldn't have to crank her head to look at him.

"Hi Bobbi, my name's Dr. Freedman. I'm just here to chat a bit with you about a few things if that okay with you."

Sidney's characteristically smooth, cookie cutter, tone of voice of a shrink had the opposite effect on Bobbi. The irritation she felt was heightened instead of subdued.

She glared at Margaret and then Frank with an unfaltering rage in her eyes, as she told Sidney, "If I have to sit here and have you ask questions about my life that nobody has any business asking, then I demand that we have privacy."

Sidney raised his eyebrows, surprised by the blatant disrespect displayed by Bobbi.

"Well, I think that's reasonable." Sidney calmly agreed.

"Agreed." Trapper echoed Sidney.

Margaret wanted to object, but she knew that she and Frank really did not have the right to listen in to the evaluation. If Trapper was leaving, they also had no choice but the leave too.

"Let's go, Major Burns, so Sidney can get to work." Margaret agreed all too pleasantly, and she directed Frank to leave by a tug on his bicep.

After the Majors were gone, Trapper left as well, but not before he told Sidney and Bobbi, "I'll be in the Swamp if you need me."

Bobbi stared at Sidney with annoyance, waiting for him to begin the charade.

He took a small note pad out of his left front shirt pocket and flipped through a few pages until he found the one with the information he jotted down about what he was told about Bobbi's situation. He crossed his legs as he skimmed over the information one more time – he clearly intended to be there for more than a short period of time. After confirming what he needed to know, Sidney closed the pad and put it back in his shirt pocket.

"I was told that you were wounded, quite close to the front line – at an aid station to be more precise. Can you tell me why you were so close to the front?"

"Because that's where my unit was stationed," Bobbi answered point blank.

"I see. It's not usual, in my experience, for a female nurse to be permanently assigned to a frontline unit. Can you tell me how you came to be assigned to the aid station for the second battalion of the 7th Infantry Regiment?"

The sarcastic side of Bobbi wanted to tell him that that was one hell of a loaded question that was way above his security clearance. She remembered Max's advice though and kept her answer short and to the point.

"Because that's where the Army decided to assign me."

"Ah," Sidney simply replied. After several long months in the service, and interview hundreds of soldiers – he knew that Bobbi wasn't going to open up to him anytime soon and he had to take a different approach.

"Major Burns and Major Houlihan believe that you may have misled the Army somehow, as to what your correct gender is, for you to be station so close to the front lines."

"Well then they are fucking idiots," Bobbi physically cringed at the mention of the Majors.

Bobbi noticed the corners of Sidney's lips curl upwards into a small grin. He quickly regained his professional composure though and continued on with his barrage of obvious questions.

"Dr. McIntyre was telling me about how Major Burns' mistake injured you further. Can you describe to me how the incident makes you feel?"

"What the hell do you think?" Bobbi's scathing tone said it all.

Sidney nodded. He decided that it was an opportune time to bridge into the subject of her the alleged assault against Major Houlihan.

"I would be furious too if I was in your position. Would it be correct to say that you took your anger about your current situation, out on Major Houlihan?"

Bobbi sighed loudly. Her patience was wearing thin with Sidney, she was tired, and above all her pain meds were wearing off.

"Can we just skip all this bullshit about how I'm feeling and get to the point. Yes, I threw a bowl at the Major's face. Pity, it didn't hit her and break her nose or something. A bit of humility would do that bitch some good. I was pissed off that she had the gall to lecture me about how Major Burns mistake wasn't really his fault. She said that it was my fault everything happened because I was an unauthorized female, or something like that, at the front line. You're a psychologist – I'm sure you can figure out who the real nutcase is. Now can you leave me alone."

Sidney could tell by Bobbi's uncomfortable shifting in the bed, that she was physically in pain. He didn't want to stress her out further, by asking more questions. Besides, he had gotten all the information he needed to report to Colonel Blake.

"I sure can do that. I'll go grab Captain McIntyre and let him know we're all finished." Sidney politely agreed as he stood up from the stool. "I'll be back later to chat some more," he added before he took his leave.

Bobbi only sighed.

This was going to be one long day.


When Sidney entered Radar's office after speaking with Bobbi, he was practically jumped by Majors Burns and Houlihan.

"Well Major, what is your opinion of that woman?" Frank demanded, sticking his face too close to Sidney's to be comfortable.

"Belligerent and unfit for service, right?" Margaret chimed in.

Frank's pathetic attempt at intimidation didn't faze Sidney in the slightest. He kept walking towards the exit to the compound and simply stated, "you will hear my opinion when everybody else does during the briefing with, Colonel Blake."

Sidney made it out into the compound before the Majors could protest. He was sure that they were saying all sorts of absurd things about him and Captain Morango as he made his way to the Swamp. He couldn't have cared less though.

When Sidney opened the door to the Swamp, he found Trapper sitting alone, on the black chair beside the still with an empty martini glass in hand.

"I see you've been busy," Sidney halfway joked, pointing to Trapper's empty glass with a finger.

"Yeah, well it's better than going to supply and counting medication for inventory with Hawkeye." Trapper said as he got up and went to the still pour another drink. "Do you want one?"

"Normally I'd say no, but I might need a bit of liquid courage to face Frank and Margaret again," Sidney remarked dryly.

"They ride you after you finished speaking with Captain Morango?" Trapper asked, even though he was sure he already knew the answer.

"I've seen mobs that aren't as angry as they were."

Trapper nodded as he handed Sidney his drink. He sat back down into his former position, while Sidney perched himself at the edge of Hawkeye bed.

Sidney coughed as he took his first sip of the home brewed gin. It usually took him two or three of the turpentine like beverages to get enough of a buzz, to not care how horrible, they tasted.

Trapper however, did not falter as he took his first sip. Even though it was only eleven in the morning – he was already on his third drink.

"So, what's your opinion Doc? You really don't think my patient belongs in the loony bin or the stockade? Because if you do – I'm going to have a shrink evaluate your own noodle." Trapper meant every word he said.

"I think that the Captain is a young woman who has been through a significant trauma. But no, I don't believe she belongs anywhere but in a hospital bed." Sidney reassured Trapper.

Trapper nodded before taking another sip of his martini. "Did she say anything about why she up at the front?"

"Only that that is where the army assigned her," Sidney replied. "Captain Morango became quite defensive when I asked."

"She's been having such a rough go of it, I haven't felt right pressing the issue. Between Jack the Ripper and Hot Lips giving her a hard time – I think she's been through enough for now."

"I'd like to see her 201 file if you guys have requested it. It might point us in the right direction as to why she ended up at the front."

"Me and Hawk have been trying ever since Captain Morango arrived here. All Radar keeps getting is the usual static from H.Q. I've called, Colonel Blake's called, and lord knows the Majors been trying to get their grubby hands on it too." Trapper said before downing the remainder of his martini in one gulp.

"That's odd," Sidney answered before he to finished off his drink. After growling through the burn of the alcohol, he got up and asked Trapper, "should we get this over with and go report to Henry?"

Trapper got up from his seat, and instead of heading towards the door, he went to the still and began to pour two more drinks.

"Let the Major's stew for a while longer. I know that I for one am not drunk enough yet for the impending blowout." Trapper explained to a perplexed Sidney.

The psychiatrist stood there for a moment and questioned Trapper's logic. Sidney was going to refuse, but when he thought it over again, he agreed with Trapper – a little more liquid courage was probably necessary.

Heck maybe if he had a few more, he wouldn't have to deal withthe headache he always went back to Seoul with after dealing with the Majors.


"How on Earth can that possibly be your professional conclusion?" Margaret roared. Her voice was so loud, Sidney was surprised the framed diplomas on the wall of Henry's office didn't vibrate.

"Do you need the wax removed from your ears Major?" Trapper shot back.

"Now wait just a minute McIntyre, you don't have the kind of brass to speak to Major Houlihan that way!" Frank shouted.

Suddenly, Hawkeye who was sitting in the corner jumped in the conversation, insulting Frank over the sound of Trapper ripping Margaret a new one. Henry was trying (and failing) to restore order without having to raise his voice too much.

Sidney, however, kept quiet and waiting for everybody to pipe down, the same as he usually did.

As the arguing went on, Radar slipped in from outside unnoticed as per usual, and handed Colonel Blake a telegram. Sidney watched how Henry's facial expressed turned from desperate and peeved, to pure confusion. After confirming the contents of the telegram with the company clerk; Henry put two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly.

Everybody stopped talking at once and snapped their heads in Henry's direction.

"If you can all keep your pie holes closed for a minute – Radar will read to you the telegram I just received from General Clayton."

Radar gulped nervously as all eyes in the room focused on him. He looked over his left shoulder slightly, looking for Henry's signal to begin reading. After receiving Henry's subtle nod of encouragement, he began to read.

"To: Lt. Colonel Henry Blake

From: Brigadier General Crandell Clayton

Looked into the matter of Captain Bobbi Rosalynn Morango's assignment at the aid station for the 2nd Battalion of the 7th Infantry Regiment. (stop)

Reasons as to why she was assigned there classified. (stop) Stop requesting 201. (stop)

Also classified. (stop)

No charges shall be pressed against the Captain (stop)."

Everybody in the room remained silent, with their jaws dropped at the words Radar had just read out.

There was one question on the forefront of everybody's mind - just who is Captain Morango?