For the next three weeks, life was hellishly horrible. The summer weather baked us to a crisp, the tub ordered from the States was sold and Radar had his tonsils out. In the meantime, the 43rd was still out in Munson and the mail was slower. We also hadn't had a peep from the outside world and it was killing us to go on without anything from someplace that was not Korea. That alone was disconcerting and quite disturbing, even with the wounded.

Finally, a jeep came by and bags and bags of mail were delivered. Radar quickly grabbed it before a mob ensued, us in the Swamp included. From there, he managed to pull the loads to his office space and began the sorting. While Klinger managed to slip one by him and abscond with a note from his missus from Toledo, we all waited as patiently as we could for news from home to be distributed. I, for one, was not anxious, although I wanted something from my brother. It was bad enough that the 43rd came less and less and the Army deemed us less important. I was honestly scared for him.

Father Mulcahy was playing a game of gin in the Swamp when Radar came by with our batch. He and Hawkeye were constantly going back and forth and winning hands after the former beat me and BJ, but the last one hit the Padre in the ass. The hand Hawkeye had was a huge loss to him and the orphanage fund. Regardless, we all decided that the kids were more important and handed over the jackpot, a whooping thirteen dollars and two cents. It would have been enough to even make Charles snicker.

"Bless you," Father Mulcahy said with an illuminating smile. "Bless you all!"

When all three of us exclaimed that it was nothing, Radar jumped in to remind us of what he had. "Mail's sorted." He began picking through his bag.

"Ah, the Shetland Pony Express." Hawkeye grew excited.

Radar faced the Padre. "You want yours here, Father, or in your tent when you're there?"

"Here'll be fine," Father Mulcahy confirmed. "It's traveled far enough."

"Amen," I said fervently.

Immediately, he cackled, taking a postcard from Radar and scanning it. "Ah, a short note from my sister now back in the convent."

"Oh, a nun-o-gram," BJ commented.

Radar continued his job, reading off the names on the envelopes. "Captain Hunnicutt, Captain Hunnicutt, Captain Hunnicutt."

"Those are for me," Hawkeye interjected, hands out.

BJ intercepted what was his, snagging everything from the company clerk in seconds. This left Hawkeye pouting, but Radar soon placated him with a magazine and two letters from Crabapple Cove. I received an unusually large pile, most of it from Trapper and Mom. I also got something from the Blakes (Lorraine and her daughters) and a mysterious one from Maine. While Hawkeye's Dad sent me something after we announced our engagement, this one did not bear his handwriting and had no return address other than it being stamped in Crabapple Cove.

I almost got sucked into it when I heard that Hawkeye had a bonus edition of Nudesweek. Furious and thinking that the issue about nudist magazines and other women on paper was over, I sighed. I did not like thinking of Hawkeye drooling over somebody that he had not personally met, but the purpose was multifold. Radar was eying the item with desperation and could be used as a bribe later.

"This is the one where they announce the all-star volleyball team," Hawkeye droned on. "I voted for Ilsa the Magnificent. I love to watch her spike."

"Really?" I was outraged. "Hawkeye!"

"Dibs after you, Sir," Radar butted in.

I tossed a pillow at him, which bounced off of his bag. "You're no better!"

"I try to be," Radar protested.

"See me next month," Hawkeye reassured him, staring at me at the same time with annoyance.

"Right." The company clerk nodded, heading to Charles. "Uh, two letter for Major Winchester – and one for 'Master Charles'."

"From his mother," BJ explained.

"Probably his allowance," Hawkeye added.

Before Charles could retort, Father Mulcahy grew thrilled with something and had to share it. "Hear, hear! Good news for Our Lady of Hermosa basketball team. A seven-foot novice!"

"She could wear the hoop as a halo," BJ offered.

Everyone was expecting me to say anything about what I received, but I didn't want to share yet, even when Radar left. Only certain people would hear later about what I learned on paper and none of them about Dean. Sighing, I was about to break open Lorraine's letter and not the one from Maine when BJ talked about Peg being a plumber for the first time and receiving a pass from a neighbor at some party. He blamed himself for not being there to take care of her just as Charles talked about gaining money on someone else's losses.

Seeing this as another headache and saving myself from the aggravation of Bloomington and its inane news, I swiftly made my exit from the Swamp. I hoped to catch Colonel Potter this time. He might be in a better mood now that the mail had arrived and he could enjoy news from his missus and daughters. Taking advantage could be a horrible thing to do, but I still needed tickets to Seoul and hoped to bring Hawkeye with me to celebrate my freedom. Missing out on the last trip was enough to make me do a double shift and that was only to get away from Margaret.

I walked into Radar's space just as he and the colonel were talking about something. I tried excusing myself, but Colonel Potter waved me in. Radar was dejected though, miserable about something involving his mother. I missed what happened (something about being lonely and having his Uncle Ed for company) and only took the CO to one side while Radar shuffled around. I outright asked him about Seoul and General Smith in October and when I could get my pass.

"And I assume you want Pierce along for the ride?" He sighed.

"I would appreciate it, Sir," I replied gently. I wanted to be as sweet as maple syrup so that I could get my way.

The colonel scratched his head. "I suppose so. Have Radar fill out the forms and I'll put my John Hancock on them as soon as you get them."

I was elated on the inside, but kept it there. I didn't want the colonel to think that I was like Margaret, taking opportunity when I could and showing off. I thanked him profusely though, knowing that would be enough, and was about to leave when Klinger entered. While there was no smell coming from him (last time he received something from his mother, the camp retched of garlic pie for a week), the frantic look on his face told it all. It was another scheme to go to Toledo.

"Colonel, I've got to talk to you," Klinger started.

"Later," the CO responded.

The crossdresser wasn't giving up. "I'm destroyed. My world has collapsed. My life is over."

"Klinger, right now, I need you like a double hernia."

"Laverne wants a divorce. She wants to divorce me."

"Didn't we go through this already?" Colonel Potter pretended that he was thinking for a moment. "Oh, yeah. The week after the Toledo scarlet fever epidemic."

Just as Radar disappeared, Klinger took another jab. "Colonel, in a family crises, the Red Cross can fix it for me to go home – if you'll sign the papers!"

"Jesus, Klinger, don't bother the Red Cross." I rolled my eyes. This was no different and not even a unique Klinger plan, but it got my mind rolling.

Klinger is usually up to no good with always an ace up his sleeve. If he's saying that his wife is going to divorce him, then it might be true. My stomach churned to think of that.

Colonel Potter agreed with my initial assessment. "Right. Don't bug the Red Cross. They got enough trouble with their baloney sandwiches."

"But you don't understand," he protested.

"Klinger, I understand only too well." The CO wrapped an arm around the enlisted man. "And this one isn't even original. Blow!"

"Colonel, you've got to help me!"

"Ok, here. Put one foot in front of the other and you're out!"

I watched as the colonel walked Klinger right out and shut the door behind him. He glared at me with amusement, shaking his head. I could not blame him for believing that this was just another Section Eight plight from the one and only crossdressing orderly. However, the way Klinger presented his case and not even adding in any ridiculous story behind it convinced me that this was the truth. The woman that he married over a shortwave radio was writing to split from him.

Hands behind his back, Colonel Potter smiled wanly as he returned to me. "Now, where were we?" he inquired.

"Seoul," I reminded him.

"Ahh, yes! You wanted Pierce to come along."

"And you said that it was ok."

"I did, didn't I? Well, get Radar to bookmark those passes. What day was it again?"

"The notice said the third of October, if I remember right."

"Check and double-check, Captain. Dismissed!"

More than happy that I got my way, I headed back to the Swamp to tell Hawkeye the good news. Since missing Seoul and General Embry a few weeks ago, we had been itching for a vacation. This would be the best two or three days we would have since Tokyo and all of it full of privacy too. Just my face alone would tell him, beaming all the way. I caught his attention with it too as he sat on his cot, talking with BJ. Family Man was moaning about not being home to help Peg and rambled on, downing drink after drink as he blamed everybody, including himself, for him being in Korea.

I wasn't going to call myself an expert, but I knew an insecure phase for BJ when there was one. Allowing him to rant and ignoring him all the same (for the most part), I joined Hawkeye on his cot and curled right into his arms. He whispered about abandoned Ilsa and joining me in the Supply Room later this evening. I doubted it since there was a movie tonight and we were all going and BJ was going to need some help, especially being so far away from Mill Valley.

"Want something even better?" I quietly asked instead.

"Sweetheart of mine, I've sent you a Valentine," Hawkeye spontaneously sang. "Oh, sweetheart of mine, it's more than a Valentine…"

"Seoul in October?" I suggested.

This stopped Hawkeye from his stage performance. "When the leaves are turning red and yellow and orange?"

"And maybe with some hot chocolate and a warm fire." That had been a dream and a sweet one at that. "I have to wait for Radar to up them signed."

"And you and me both?"

"Of course! Why would I head off to Seoul and not bring you?"

This brought up another routine from Hawkeye. "I'm wild again, be-guiled again, a simpering, whimpering child again…"

BJ soon realized that we were no longer listening and was a little hurt. He went on regardless and tried talking over Hawkeye's melodic words, saying all of things he would be doing if he was not in Korea. Fixing the roof, telling Peg about the missing step in the ladder, protecting her and Erin from the perils of younger men, going to work and making money and more. The two competed for top spot for a few minutes before Hawkeye gave in to his best friend's miserable situation, allowing BJ the floor and offering solicitous bits of advice every now and then. All thoughts of Seoul were off the table.

And I didn't blame Hawkeye in the slightest. I also did not want to get stuck in the middle of BJ's marital issues (I had enough of them with Hawkeye and all of them not related to us not being married) and only blew out some frustrated air as this went on until evening. Even in the Mess Tent, when we were supposed to be eating, BJ picked up where he left off, shouldering the guilt of his being here and not shielding his girls. It was enough that even Margaret told him to put a sock in it. She too was stuck in her own gloom and didn't need more commentary from the balcony.

Finally, the movie was being shown. After all of the tables and benches had been arranged and the film fed into the machine, the lights fell and everyone watched the black and white picture with little interest. We had seen this particular one a few hundred times and nobody was laughing except for Charles. Grouchiness flew around there too, from Margaret being denied entry into the DAR, Radar's mother having a man in her life and Peg having to grow up a little. As it grew worse, Charles complained.

"Usher! Usher!" Hawkeye yelled. "Throw these rowdies out!"

The chaos grew. Just as Colonel Potter was about to call quiet, the film came undone. Everybody groaned and bitched. Then, they screamed at Klinger to fix the movie and the machine and to get on with the entertainment. Charles was the loudest of the bunch, ordering him like a servant to rethread it. I was more annoyed that things were going to hell in a handbasket and wished that the mail had not come today. It would have made the day brighter despite the war.

Klinger wasn't taking any grief. "Rethread it yourself. I've had enough!"

He began walking out. Even though it was his job usually to man the projector, he neglected that duty, ignoring the ramble behind him. Even Margaret was furious, screaming to the CO that Klinger was disobeying orders and forsaking them. In the disorder that ensured, popcorn was thrown everywhere and the noise drew to a dangerous level. Even when asked what was wrong, nobody wanted to hear another Section Eight story.

"Tell us after the movie!" Hawkeye called out.

"Come on, let's watch it!" Margaret demanded.

"Klinger, save it for Talent Night," BJ moaned.

"I want somebody to listen to me!" Klinger begged. He was practically shaking to be on his knees for his confession.

"We've heard it all, Klinger." Margaret answered for all of us in the camp, even though I was a little skeptical. "It's just another phony story!"

"No, it's not." The crossdresser was furious, ripping apart his red dress and evening hat until he was almost naked, showing only his underwear and shirt. "This is phony, Sir. This is! And this here is phony, Sir, and this! All of this is phony. But my wife leaving me isn't. She took my allotment checks, built up a nice bank account and now she's found another guy!"

Klinger raced out of the Mess Tent with all of us groaning behind him and all for different reasons. Colonel Potter chased right after him, hoping that this would not mean one less person AWOL. For us left behind, it meant no movie and some gossip. While the rest of the camp decided to take a breather and talk about Klinger, some of us thought it more prudent to just drink at the Officers' Club before we went to bed. It meant a good time for those who are inclined to forget the scene. For BJ, it was a nightmare.

Hawkeye and I sang with Father Mulcahy and tried to get BJ involved, but he was not interested and kept to himself, the bottles around him growing taller. He was so sucked into his own wretchedness that we had to get him back to bed before he hurt himself. It was after midnight already and he was drunk as a skunk. Hawkeye and I wished that he forgot the whole thing in the morning, but that sort of thing never happened with BJ. We sat around and drank a few belts as our own bedtime approached before Radar came knocking to talk to Hawkeye about his mother.

"Go on," I encouraged him. "I'll stay inside."

I would hear everything anyway. I wasn't one to eavesdrop, but Radar was pretty loud about his mother. He went on and on about her and this older man. He happened to be a senior churchman, a Mason member and a banker. The kind man took Mrs. O'Reilly everywhere, from square dancing and snow cones to church and even bingo. It sounded like the woman was enjoying her time away from her son and telling him the most exciting time of her life since his father's death when he was a child. It made Radar's blood boil, enough to have Hawkeye point out that he was jealous. Love even explained why.

"I was the same way," Hawkeye went on. It was a story I had not heard and one I took to heart as he connected himself to Radar. "The same thing happened to me. My father's a widower, you know."

"Yeah?" Radar didn't think about it that way.

"Yeah." Love nodded.

"You mean, just like my mom?"

"Yeah, right. When I was about twelve years old, he got interested in this very nice lady. It was two years after my mother and sister died. She was a bookkeeper and had her own children. And I was sore as hell. I didn't say anything, but he knew I was sore. And he really wanted me to like her, but I wouldn't."

"What happened?"

"Anyway, well…I guess he needed my approval so much that, uh, he didn't marry her. And he's been alone to this day. And loneliness isn't what it's cracked up to be."

The tale brought tears to my eyes and pushed me to grab another drink. It reminded me so much about the first night I spent in the Swamp, where the two of us told our life stories and shared so much of each other that we could not realize that we were falling in love. Hawkeye did not tell too many people about his family unless he trusted them and even then, he kept quiet. He told jokes to keep the blues at bay and never revealed his inner turmoil and shame.

Being on Cloud Nine was a state of mind I recalled being in when we began our chaotic relationship about two years ago. Now, more than ever before, I realized how stronger someone had to be in order to be the better half of a couple. Blissful isn't always the best term to describe two people stuck in a horrible situation. It was always holding out for them, ensuring their happiness and just not your own, and comforting in sorrow and rejoicing in the delight life brought. Hawkeye and I may not have come to that understanding yet, but I was seeing the inch closer and that, more than ever before, we had to confront our deepest fears and address the horrible day more than a month ago.

Eventually, Hawkeye came back into the Swamp. He joined me drinking, watching over BJ like a hawk (no pun intended). We sat in silence for a few minutes before he asked about what I received today. Crabapple Cove contained the usual news about town life, family and patients. A few babies had been born the past month, so his father had been busy and hardly had time to write until recently.

"I never checked," I admitted, drowning myself in the last of the still gin. "I know that I have something from Maine and it wasn't your Dad."

"Oh?" Hawkeye raised an eyebrow.

I immediately went in search of the item. When I found it tucked underneath some dirty clothes under my cot, I brushed away the dirt and handed it to him. As we sat back down together on his bed, Hawkeye finished opening the letter, picking up where I left off, and laughed. He gave it right back to me.

"It's from Dolly!" he exclaimed animatedly, slapping his knee at the mention of his cousin. "She sends her love and wants to chat. Cheery on!"

I thought it quite uncharacteristic of Hawkeye to leave me alone and confused. I mean, I didn't think it prudent that someone I hardly knew would send their love and talk to me about trivial, womanly things. However, I soon understood his point. When I was reading her audacity, I noticed that she held the same impulsive behavior Hawkeye had and would use that in the best womanly art – gossip. For a few pages, she talked about nothing except scandal and the juiciest stories Crabapple Cove had to offer.

It was entertaining. I chuckled a few times and felt a kinship to this woman who was so kind and religious (not as insane as my mother, I learned). She didn't need to communicate with me. Yet, she thought the addition of another family member was the best excuse in the world to write a letter to someone about to marry the one person who everyone thought would remain a bachelor forever. She even finalized it with her address and a wish that I too send something to her.

The days are so empty here, Jeanie. I can call you Jeanie, yes? Well, I have so much to do – church, designing and studying. But, but, but! There's always something telling me that there's something missing. Maybe connecting with another woman is the key. God knows how few of us are in the family. I would love to hear from you!

I went to bed content with my new correspondent, sleeping for some hours and waking up refreshed. In that time, we learned many things happened. First, BJ snuck out when Hawkeye and I were slumbering and talked with Peg over the phone. He learned that she loved him more and more everyday and that she always needs him, no matter the distance between them. Second was Klinger's escape to get back to Laverne and Toledo. He was picked up by the MPs after Father Mulcahy woke Colonel Potter with news of parting money to the crossdresser and admitted that it was not worth it to go AWOL. Last had been Radar, who accepted that his mother was a human being who needed love. He realized that he wasn't the one person in her life and that he had to learn how to share.

Celebrating, we all hung around the Officers' Club later that night. We toasted Klinger, Korea's most eligible bachelor. We wished that he had a wife who dressed as well as he did and would exceed that too. Colonel Potter said that it took daring and courage to do what Klinger did and to come back without charges also and soon was poking at Radar. The company clerk was sleeping off of his Grape Nehi, drool rolling down his face.

"It's ok, Ma," Radar muttered. "Throw the bouquet!"

"Hey, hey!" Klinger jumped in. "I-I-I-I want to make a toast!"

"Hear, hear!" we all replied, raising our glasses with shaky hands and drunken smiles.

"To M*A*S*H 4077," he slurred.

"Seven, seven," we echoed, giggling hysterically.

"I may not have a family no more in Toledo," Klinger continued, "but I sure as hell got one here. I love you guys!"

As soon as we all drank down, Klinger passed out and collapsed, falling backwards in his chair. We all were up against the counter, drunk and not caring as mirth passed through our lips. Nobody bothered to pick Klinger up. He appeared perfectly content where he was, dress hiked up to an indecent height and his hat and hair all askew. To be honest, he possibly was feeling better than all of us still standing, numb as we were.

Colonel Potter had the last word though. "Pretty rotten way to show it!"


I didn't mean to make this chapter longer than most, but there was so much to use that I couldn't help it. :D Material came mainly from the season 6 episode "Mail Call III". I also made some mention of the season 7 episode "None Like It Hot" too.