Alright folks, here is the 38th chapter of this story!
Now, it took me a while to come up with something for this chapter, mainly one that is focused on Margaret, and based on the name of the chapter, it's going to be foot-related, so don't be too disturbed if there's a lot of foot talk shown in this chapter.
Anyway, a lot of research has been done for this chapter to make it consistent and not inaccurate. In other words, it's shown to be in place with the time the show takes place, being the early 1950s. That is an important factor, and I just want all of you to know about it.
In this chapter, Margaret ends up catching athlete's foot upon wearing the same boots for 2 years along with some other stuff, Andrew demonstrates how he's skilled in foot care, having learned about it while in the army, Andrew takes care of Margaret's feet so they can be in good shape again, and some of the senior medical staff and others make comments about it, along with some other stuff. How will this go for Margaret? Just how good will Andrew be when it comes to foot care? Find out right now, readers!
IN ANDREW'S TENT - 10:48
It was a terrific day in South Korea. And at the M*A*S*H 4077, things were running as smooth as a well-oiled machine. In Andrew's tent, we see the Major reading what appears to be an army catalog, which contained some military tools and weapons such as guns, knives, and more.
If Andrew ever could get any of this stuff, he would only use them as resourceful tools in case he was lost in the woods or elsewhere, where they would be useful, at least the military army knives. As far as the gun is concerned, it would only be used as a self-defense weapon. Although he already has a military pistol and rifle from the time Frank issued military firearms to the M*A*S*H 4077 until they were taken back due to a mistake. So a gun wasn't necessary.
There was plenty of other military equipment in the catalog, which pretty much got Andrew fascinated. While it's true that he was a doctor and a medical specialist, he was also a regular-army militant expert in some circles.
Despite some of the horrors and drawbacks of being stuck in this hell hole, Andrew had to admit that being drafted here was the best thing to have happened to him, in regards to wanting to become a man and show his mom that he was on the path of growing up.
Andrew kept reading for a few minutes until a knock was heard at his door. Entering the tent was Radar, who had some mail for Andrew. Upon seeing Radar did Andrew close up the catalog and put it down to give the company clerk his full undivided attention.
"Uh, 'cuse me, sir?" Radar cleared his throat and spoke up.
"Yes? What can I do for you Radar?" Andrew queried.
"Oh, well, uh, it's just it...it's mail call, sir," Radar approached the Major and handed over the letter. "And you got something. Looks like it's really important and imperative sir."
"Is that so," Andrew gave him a bemused look. "Let me take a look at that."
Andrew opened up the envelope, pulled out the letter, and read what was written in it. What he saw caused him to brighten up and gain a big smile.
"Holy cow! I can't believe it," Andrew beamed. "It finally got through!"
"What's up, sir?" Radar asked curiously.
"Oh Radar, don't you get it? This is from the real estate agency that I sent for," Andrew grinned. "And they gave me a list of beautiful-looking houses in the state of California! And most of them that are listed here with pictures provided have a couple of beautiful houses, each one has its swimming pool in the backyard, and a two-car garage to go with it! This is extravagant but amazing!"
"Wow. Really? Sir," Radar saw the letter that Andrew handed to him and was amazed. "Holy smokes! Uh, holy mackerel sir. Those are great deals Major."
"Aren't they?" Andrew smiled. "I've been looking into this stuff for when the war is over and when Margaret and I move in together upon getting married, and I'm preparing ahead of time so we can get our house the moment we get back to the states. And the best part is that these houses happen to be close to that military hospital that Margaret applied to work at."
"Golly," Radar said in awe. "Sounds like you and Major Houlihan have things set."
"You can say that," Andrew nodded. "I love that woman. And I want to do what she would love to have that could benefit the two of us. I'd spoil that lady if I have to. Plus, I've been feeling more like a man since we became a couple."
"Sure have sir," Radar smiled sheepishly. "Anything else?"
"Nope. That's about it. I'm gonna show this to Margaret too. She's gonna be thrilled," Andrew remarked. "Is there anything else in there that's for me?"
"No sir. That's it, sir," Radar shook his head. "You've got nothing else, sir."
"Very well," Andrew stood up from his chair. "Now why don't you run along and deliver the rest of the mail Radar? I've got some business to attend to."
"Okay, sir. Talk with you later, sir," Radar walked towards the door and saluted him before walking out.
"Alright," Andrew replied with a smile as Radar walked out the door, leaving Andrew all alone in his tent for the moment.
Maybe I should tell Margaret about this. She'll be pleased to know how I'm planning our future. Andrew thought. And I'm gonna let her choose which house we should move into. She has just as much of a part in this as I do, so it's fair that she gets to contribute to our future together.
With that thought in mind, Andrew made sure the letter he got was put away in his footlocker. He would show Margaret the letter and they could plan it out from there later on. For now, he felt like now would be the best time to head outside and see just what today was going to bring to the 4077th.
From there, Andrew walked over to open the door, walked out of his tent, and closed the door behind him before taking a stroll outside. It seemed very pleasant out for a hell hole such as the 4077th.
However, right as he walks by the intercom speaker, he hears someone grunting and scratching away. This got Andrew to stop as he was wondering where that was coming from.
I wonder what that's coming from. Andrew thought. It sounds like someone is having an itching problem. Or is getting a rash.
Andrew took that as his cue to look around and see where that was coming from. Eventually, his sight was caught onto the bench that was nearby, and the person who was sitting down on it.
It was Margaret.
And she had her right boot off of her right foot as she was just wearing that army green sock over her foot. This was due to how she was itching her right foot constantly, and with no one watching her up close. Her left foot was itchy too, but her focus at the moment was on her right foot. This came as a surprise to Andrew, as he had never seen her do this before.
Hey, it's Margaret. Why is she itching her right foot with her boot taken off? Andrew wondered in his thoughts. Well, whatever is going on, it seems that she is very uncomfortable currently. I better go see if there's anything wrong with her...
Shaking his head, he decided to walk over and find out what was wrong with Margaret that caused her to take off one of her boots and itch her foot.
Meanwhile, the head nurse herself was itching her foot like crazy. She knew that something was wrong with her feet, but she chose not to do anything about it, on account that word might get out. If anyone knew about how something was wrong with her feet, she wouldn't hear the end of it from every single pervert in South Korea. And it would be humiliating on top of that.
It was that reason alone that got her to jump when some spoke to her upon approaching her.
"Hey, Margaret," that voice got her to yelp and winced as she saw that it was just Andrew Peterson. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."
"Whoa. Oh...oh...n-no Andrew," Margaret panted nervously. "I-I thought you were someone else..."
"I see," Andrew sighed. "Anyway, is there something itching you?"
"Itching? Me? I have no idea what you're talking about," Margaret said rather hastily, putting her right foot into her right boot.
"Well Margaret, something must be itching you if your itching your foot with your boot taken off," Andrew pointed out matter-of-factly.
"Nothing's wrong with my foot," Margaret tried lying. "My foot's just fine. There's nothing to worry about Andrew."
"Margaret? Could it be that you're trying to hide something from me," Andrew put his hands on his hips, not believing her lie. "Or are you embarrassed about somebody else finding out about your itch? Being personal and all."
Margaret had no idea what to say. How could she lie her way out of this? This was the man that she was in love with, after all. Seeing the apprehensive look on her face, Andrew let out a sigh and decided to make things easier for her.
"Alright dear, I'll tell you what," Andrew reasoned with her. "We can talk about this privately in the comfort of your tent, so no one else will know about it. How does that sound?"
Margaret had to sigh at that, as Andrew seemed genuinely sincere. Afterwards, she took a deep breath and spoke.
"Oh, alright Andrew. Let's go to my tent," she told him. "Just let me get my boot back on first."
"That's fine with me," he smiled at her. "And we'll be given complete privacy too."
"We'd have to," Margaret said with a slight smirk as she tied her boot up. "It's my tent."
"Good point," Andrew snapped his fingers. "Now come on."
Margaret said nothing else as they both headed straight for Margaret's tent so they could talk in private about what's bothering Margaret, and why her foot has been itchy...
Once they got into Margaret's tent, they made sure that the door was closed tight and was also locked up so no one could come in unannounced and see what's been bothering the head nurse. Afterwards, they headed straight for her cot, where they sat down, and then Andrew turned to face her.
"Alright Margaret, I think it'd be best if I start by asking you what's wrong," Andrew wondered. "Is there something wrong with your foot that's making it itchy?"
"Andrew, it's my feet," Margaret took off both of her boots. "Both of my feet have been itchy lately."
"Do you know what's been making them itchy?" Andrew asked.
Margaret was dreading this part, but she had to take a deep breath and answer him. "I think I might have athlete's foot."
"Athlete's foot," Andrew raised an eyebrow at that. "Are you sure about that dear?"
"Yes. I'm positive darling," Margaret nodded. "I've got the symptoms that come with it."
"Really," Andrew started to list them down. "Do you have scaly, peeling, or cracked skin between the toes?"
"Well, it's mostly cracked, but yeah," Margaret told him. "It's disgusting."
"I can see that," Andrew winced. "Do you feel itchiness, especially right after taking off your boots and socks?"
"Are you kidding? I have the urge to itch my feet every time I take off my boots," Margaret said. "Let alone my socks."
"I see," Andrew continued. "Do you have inflamed skin that might appear reddish, purplish, or grayish?"
"Reddish, most certainly," Margaret nodded.
"Any burning or stinging?" Andrew queried.
"A little bit of both," said Margaret.
"Any blisters on your feet?" Andrew questioned.
"A couple of them, yes," Margaret answered.
"Is there dry, scaly skin on the bottom of the foot that extends up the side," Andrew quizzed.
"Somewhat," Margaret remarked. "It's present on both feet."
"Alright," Andrew sighed. "How long have you had athlete's foot?"
"Only for a couple of days," Margaret answered. "It hasn't been long. Otherwise, it would be far worse than it already is."
"Okay," Andrew had to make sure of it for himself. "Margaret, I know this might be a lot to ask for, but can you take your socks off so I can see your feet for myself?"
"Sure sweetie," Margaret smiled. "I know you're only concerned about me."
"Uh-huh," Andrew nodded as Margaret took off her socks.
Once Andrew got a look at her feet, he cringed at the sight of them. It was known that athlete's foot was more common in men than in women, but that didn't mean women were entirely immune to it, especially an army brat like Margaret, who takes part in army activities that most men participate in. Still, Andrew was shocked, to say the least.
"Goodness," Andrew winced. "Yup. That's athlete's foot alright."
"It sure is," Margaret sighed before asking Andrew.
"It's not as bad as I thought. You only have a minor slight case of athlete's foot, just like you said," Andrew grabbed her ankle and looked at her foot. "Still, you need to get this treated before it gets any worse."
"How can I do that," Margaret wondered. "I don't want the other perverts in this outfit to know about this."
"I know," Andrew understood. "And that's why I'm going to help treat them for you."
"Really," Margaret seemed uncertain. "You know something about foot care?"
"Sure I do. I've practiced foot care before in the army. This might not come as a surprise to you, but a lot of men in the army got athlete's foot from all the military drills, training, maneuvers, and exercises that they had to do," Andrew revealed. "So I had to be in charge of that."
"Well, what should we do about it," she asked.
"We'll need to put some powder and cream on those feet, including right between the toes so your athlete's foot can heal," he told her. "I believe they have the stuff in the supply tents or the supply room."
"Last I checked, there were," Margaret recalled. "The requisitions for them have been filled out and approved."
"I had a feeling about that," Andrew nodded. "Just one more question, how did you get athlete's foot."
"Search me," Margaret shrugged. "But I guess it has something to do with how I've been wearing these boots a lot. And they've been getting worn out."
"How long have you had those boots?"
"About two years, counting."
"No offense Margaret, but you need to replace those boots," Andrew informed her. "It's little wonder why you got athlete's foot if you've been wearing the same boots for two years."
"I want you to know that I have sent out an issue to get a new pair of army boots," Margaret admitted. "But the idiotic supply sergeant failed to requisition them over to the 4077th."
"That must stink," Andrew frowned.
"It does," Margaret said. "But some people are incompetent nincompoops. So I have to put up with these old boots since they're all that I have for footwear."
Andrew had to take this in for a minute. Margaret's feet were in desperate need of some foot care, and she was also in need of a pair of new army boots for her feet. Seeing that she has nothing else to put onto her feet, there was one option for him to take to resolve both situations.
"Margaret? I'm gonna have to speak to the Colonel and Radar about this," Andrew told her.
"You can't be serious," Margaret was a little edgy. "Do you have to let them know about my feet?"
"Look Margaret, I don't have a choice," Andrew sighed. "I need to be sure that the supplies needed are available, and that Radar gets a hold of regimental, to make sure those new army boots get through and are delivered to the M*A*S*H 4077th. Besides, Colonel Blake is our C.O, so I have to inform him about it too."
"I guess you have a point, Andrew," Margaret frowned. "I just hope that this'll help my feet."
"Trust me, dear, I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't care about you. Because I do," Andrew assured her. "So you have to let me do this just so I can help you. Okay?"
"Alright darling," Margaret sighed in defeat. "I won't have a problem with it. Just please don't let Captains Pierce and McIntyre know about this. They're the last two people I want to know about this."
"I know. And I will avoid them any way I can," Andrew promised. "And I'll have the Colonel and Radar promise not to say a word about it to them."
"Thanks for the help honey," Margaret smiled. "I appreciate it."
"It's my pleasure buttercup," Andrew told her. "I love you, Margaret."
"I love you too Andrew," Margaret returned the gesture. "Be sure to come back soon, Mr. Big Strong Man."
"You have my word Ms. Beautiful Looking Dollface," Andrew smirked playfully.
"Wait," Margaret leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "That's for being a thoughtful and considerate handsome dreamboat."
"And this is for reminding me that you are a gorgeous looking mot," Andrew went ahead and kissed her on the cheek. "I'll be back soon. Don't let anyone else into this tent."
"I'll be waiting," Margaret smiled. "And I wouldn't allow anyone else to enter my tent."
"Good," Andrew got up and walked towards the door. "I shall return shortly."
"Glad to hear it you big strong man," Margaret gave him that flirtatious look as Andrew opened the door.
From there, Andrew walked out of her tent and closed the door behind him, allowing Margaret to go ahead and lock her door up so no one else can enter. It was then Andrew headed straight for the Colonel's office to work on getting things underway with Margaret's feet being treated as well as a new pair of army boots being shipped to the 4077th.
That letter that Andrew got from the mail would have to wait before he showed it to his lady. For now, he had to work on getting her athlete's foot treated. This was going to be a rather busy day for him...
IN COLONEL BLAKE'S OFFICE - 11:18
"Excuse me, sir? Colonel Blake," Radar entered Henry's office and got his attention. "Colonel? Major Peterson wants to see you, sir."
"Oh no. I should've expected that." Henry moaned as he had a cigar in his mouth. "What's the Major's issue this time?"
"Dunno sir. He needs to talk with you. Says it's urgent and important," Radar proclaimed. "What should I tell him?"
"Well Radar, tell him to come into my office," Henry sighed. "Let's get this over with."
"Yes, sir," Radar went to the door and opened it to tell Andrew to come in, only for Andrew to walk in from the other door as Radar took his leave.
"Colonel Blake," Andrew approached his desk as he got his attention. "I need to speak with you about something."
"Well, that's what this meeting is about. So get out with it Major," Henry encouraged. "What's the problem this time?"
"It's Major Houlihan sir," Andrew told him. "She's having a problem with her feet."
"Oh for Pete's sake. Does she need another manicure," Henry moaned. "Because I could've sworn that's what she has her nurses for."
"Worse sir. She's got athlete's foot," Andrew revealed. "And she's been waiting for those new army boots that she sent for, but they never came due to a hold up in regimental. And she's had those boots for two years, so that's likely how she got athlete's foot."
"That would also explain how I got athlete's scalp from her going over my head too many times to count," Henry joked dryly. "But seriously, could it also be from exposure to certain fungi?"
"If you mean Trichophyton, Epidermophyton, or Microsporum, then it's likely. I mean the shower tent is always wet since people go in there in their bare feet," Andrew remarked. "But I needed to make sure that we have the right kind of powder and cream used to treat athlete's foot."
"Okay doke, lesse if I got the form in one of these folders," Henry looked through the folders on the shelf behind him and dug through a couple of the folders before finding the right form that Andrew was looking for. "Bingo. Here it is. Says here that the requisition for the powder and cream has been filled out, signed, and approved. I should know since I do the signing around here."
"That's what I wanted to know," Andrew sighed. "Does it say anything in there about a new pair of army boots?"
"Nope. Sorry to say that there's nothing in here about boots," Henry shook his head. "That's something that didn't get through."
"That figures," Andrew pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well, there's only one thing to do. We need to get a hold of regimental and convince them to ship over a new pair of army boots for Margaret to wear on her feet."
"You know? That's prezactly what I was thinking of all along," Henry got up from his desk. "In the meantime, I hope that Major Houlihan can keep her feet cleaned and dry."
"I'll make sure of it," Andrew smiled. "And if necessary, I will help with getting her places if she can't stand going around in her bare feet."
"That's a good idea, Major. But let's handle one thing at a time, shall we," Henry headed to the door and opened it, as Radar entered the other door beside him. "Radar!?"
"I got a hold of regimental sir," Radar spoke from behind him, getting him to turn around to face him. "Boots have been approved. And shipped. They'll be here in a few days or so. No less."
"Welp, that's what I like to call good telephone business, if I do say so myself," Henry was impressed by how Radar took care of that fast.
"Good work Radar," Andrew praised him. "Let's hope they keep their end of the bargain."
"Believe me Peterson, all of us hope for that too," Henry remarked.
"Yeah," Andrew sighed. "For now, I better check the supply tent for the powder and cream that I'm looking for."
"Right," Henry said. "You better bring Radar along. He should know where they are."
"Good idea," Andrew turned to face Radar. "Radar, would you mind by helping me-"
"With finding athlete's foot powder and cream," Radar finished for him. "Yes, sir."
"Great," Andrew smiled sheepishly as Radar headed out. "Well Colonel, I'll see you around."
"That suits me fine, Major," Henry remarked. "Take care, and goom-bye."
"Right," Andrew said simply before walking out of the office.
As soon as Andrew was out of the office, Henry Blake was left alone in his office again. Going back to his chair, he sat back down and decided to go back to doing what he was doing before, which was sitting back and smoking his cigar. Everything was in the hands of Andrew and Radar regarding Margaret's athlete's foot, so he had nothing to worry about...
IN THE SUPPLY TENT - 11:25
At this moment, Andrew and Radar had entered one of the supply tents, which was where the athlete's foot powder and cream were supposed to be. Radar had that flashlight in his hands to look through the supplies, while Andrew was standing right behind him to supervise him.
"Alright Radar, do you know where the powder and cream are," Andrew had to ask.
"Gimme one moment, please," Radar told him as he scanned through the boxes on each shelf with the flashlight. "Should be here somewhere."
"Is it in a box or what?" Andrew queried. "Because I only need one thing of powder, and one thing of cream. That's about it."
"Heard ya the first time, sir," Radar sighed. "Lesse, where is it?"
Radar spent the next few moments looking for that particular box. Eventually, he found a box of supplies that was labeled 'POWDER AND CREAM SUPPLIES FOR ATHLETE'S FOOT' typed onto the front.
"Sir! Here's the box of supplies! That you're looking for," Radar pulled the box off of the shelf and showed it to Andrew.
"Excellent," Andrew saw the box and grinned. "Now we have to see if it has the stuff I'm seeking."
"Let me open it, sir," Radar decided to put it onto the ground, and open the top part up. "Alright. It's open Major."
"Great," Andrew got onto his knees. "Let's see what kind of powder is in here."
Radar pointed the flashlight into the box as Andrew looked through some of the powders that were in it. When Andrew pulled out of the cans, he observed them and tried to make out what it said on the can.
"Hey, Radar? Care to point that flashlight onto this can for me," Andrew requested.
"Yes sir," the company clerk did just that as Andrew was able to read what was written on it.
"Now let's see here," Andrew started to read the front of the can. "Sopronol Powder. For Dermatophytosis ('Athlete's Foot'). Active ingredients: calcium propionate, 15%; zinc propionate, 5%; and zinc caprylate, 5%; inert ingredients: 75%. Huh. Well, what do you know? This stuff was made and printed in the USA."
"Wow," Radar murmured.
"I'm just surprised that we got possession of this powder," Andrew mused. "I think this stuff will work."
"Gotcha sir," Radar said. "Now about the cream."
"That's right," Andrew put the can of Sopronol Powder to the side, before he looked through the box again, this time pulling out a tube of cream, inside a small box. "Well, here's some cream. Radar, would you mind pointing the flashlight onto this box of cream for me?"
Radar nodded as he did just that, and Andrew decided to read what was written on the box.
"Huh. Dr. Scholl's Solvex. For the relief of athlete's foot, itching toes, and feet. Active Ingredients: Benzoic Acid, Salicylic Acid, Thymol. Wow. This stuff was also made in the USA, and it's for external use only," Andrew seemed intrigued by this. "I'm surprised that we got possession of this too. Well, in any case, I think this'll work by rubbing the stuff in between her toes. That would be effective enough."
"Yes sir. Major, you're the doctor," Radar didn't argue with him on that.
"That's so true Radar," Andrew chuckled lightly, putting the stuff to the side. "Now I think that using both the can of Sopronol Powder and the tube of Dr. Scholl's Solvex will be good. All I need now is some cotton swabs for the solvex. Radar?"
"I'll get them Major Peterson sir," Radar went right to work to find some cotton swabs for Andrew.
It didn't take long for Radar to find the cotton swabs, which were in an opened box on the shelf. Pulling a handful out, Radar went back to Andrew with a scoop full of cotton swabs for him to use.
"Thank you very much Radar," Andrew took the cotton swabs from his hands. "Now this will be all I need for this task. Now we just have to put the box back on the shelf."
"I'm working with it now, uh, sir," Radar closed up the box and picked it up before putting it back onto the shelf.
"Be careful Radar. That's stuff is pretty fragile," Andrew informed him. "Okay. That's good. That'll do."
"Really? Good golly," Radar sighed. "Thought we'd never be done."
"Well, we are," Andrew smiled sheepishly before picking up the can of Sopronol Powder and the box of Dr. Scholl's Solvex cream in a tube, along with the cotton swabs. "With this stuff, I can handle that athlete's foot with no problem."
"Yes sir," Radar agreed with him. "Let's go 'fore we get caught."
"Who's gonna catch us," Andrew wondered. "We were granted permission from Colonel Blake. So what's the problem?"
"I dunno sir," Radar seemed uneasy. "Just don't want to deal with, well, you know..."
"Interrogation, as to what we're doing with this stuff," Andrew questioned as Radar nodded at that. "I see. Well, there shouldn't be any problem with that at all."
"Well, uh, okay sir. I trust you." Radar sighed. "Let's just go already."
"Alright then," Andrew shook his head. "Let's bounce."
"Right," Radar muttered before they started to take their leave.
"Hold it," a voice shouted, getting the two of them to stop.
"Oh no! We've been spotted," Radar panicked. "Had I tell you! Had!"
"Now hold your horses and simmer down Radar. No reason to get excited," Andrew told him to relax.
"But sir," Radar tried to say something, but Andrew didn't want to hear it.
"Come on Radar. Whoever that is couldn't possibly hurt us," Andrew assured him. "No matter who that might be."
Radar wasn't entirely convinced, as he pointed his flashlight at the person who had just spoken a moment ago. Once Radar pointed the light at the person, it was revealed that the person was just Frank. Unfortunately, with Radar, he was even more frantic about this.
"Major Burns? That's even worse for us," Radar yelped. "We've been had! I sleep with a teddy bear at night!"
Oh for goodness sake," Andrew pinched the bridge of his nose. "Radar, try to relax. This is unnecessary."
"Oh, uh, sir..."
"Don't worry. I'll handle this," Andrew cleared his throat before turning to face Frank. "Can we help you with something, Frank?"
"Yes. What are you two doing in here?" Frank asked sternly. "Did you two get authorization for taking that stuff?"
"Uh, does Blake's authorization count," Radar questioned.
"I was talking to the Major you enlisted crumb! So mind your beeswax, you runt," Frank yelled at him to hush up.
Andrew rolled his eyes in annoyance at that, but he answered the question anyway. "We got authorization from Colonel Blake, Frank."
"Okay," Frank continued to frown. "And just what are you going to do with that powder, cream, and cotton swabs Major?"
"We have a case of athlete's foot that needs to be treated," Andrew answered. "That's what this stuff is for."
"Oh no," Frank scoffed, coming to a certain conclusion. "You're not touching my feet buster. Besides, I don't have athletes' foot!"
"Not you Frank," Andrew huffed. "I'm referring to Margaret Houlihan. She has athlete's foot."
"Major Houlihan has athlete's foot," Frank looked curious by this. "Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure, Frank," Andrew moaned. "She even showed me her feet."
"Well, if you ask me, we've been getting plenty of that around here lately," Frank said. "For all we know, it could've been caused by the fungus growing in the shower tent thanks to the sickening crumbs that go in there without boots on."
"Well, the Colonel suggested that it had something to do with that," Andrew revealed. "But it also has something to do with wearing the same army boots for two years."
"Sickening," Frank scoffed in disgust.
"Yeah," Andrew agreed reluctantly. "So that's why we needed these supplies."
"Well next time, let me know. We can't take any chances with anymore thefts going on around here Major," Frank told him firmly.
"Right," said Andrew. "We should be going now."
"Wait a minute, why are you going to treat Margaret's athlete's foot?" Frank decided to ask.
"Well Frank, I happen to know a thing about footcare," Andrew answered. "It's something I picked up on in the army, and it stuck with me ever since."
"Hmph. I'll have you know that I have specialized in foot care," Frank gloated smugly.
"You don't say," Andrew seemed rather amused by that.
"Ask anyone here. I've seen their feet," Frank told him.
"Actually, uh, sir," Radar intervened, "You've seen nobody's feet."
"Didn't I tell you to pipe down you enlisted runt," Frank howled, glaring at Radar. "So put a lid on it!"
"Uh, s-sorry, sir," Radar stuttered. "Shutting up now."
"It doesn't matter to me," Andrew sighed. "The only important thing to me is to get this stuff over to Margaret's tent so I can treat her feet."
"Let me help out," Frank insisted. "I happen to know Margaret's feet better than anyone else!"
"Hmmm...I dunno," Andrew sounded unsure about that, disregarding Frank's obvious egotistical tone. "I was hoping on having it be a one-man job. But I guess I can make an exception in this case."
"Sir? You sure having him is a good idea? Andrew?" Radar wasn't sure about that.
"I know Radar. It might not seem like a good idea," Andrew remarked. "However, I'll allow it, on account that Frank behaves himself when it comes to it. Is that understood Frank?"
"Well..." Frank was apprehensive about answering that question.
"I hope so. Because I'd hate for Margaret to have to throw one of her boots at you to get out if you get fresh with her," Andrew reminded him. "Especially since I'm aware of how you feel about her."
"Right," Frank said nervously.
"I mean it," Andrew spoke in a serious tone. "I'm giving you a chance Frank, so don't blow it."
"Fine," Frank moaned.
"Good," Andrew said. "Now that that's all set, we should get going."
"Anything I can do sirs," Radar had to ask them.
"Yeah. Go peddle your fish, you enlisted crumb," Frank barked. "That means scram, you runt!"
"Right sir. Sorry for asking sir," Radar spoke before leaving the supply tent, with the two Majors having walked out of the supply tent.
"I still think that was unnecessary Frank," Andrew told him. "He was just trying to help."
"So? The enlisted men should leave this kind of work to the officers," Frank scoffed. "Leave the enlisted men to do what enlisted men usually do."
"You know what? Never mind. It's not important right now," Andrew decided not to hold a debate about it. "What is important is that Pierce and McIntyre do not find out about this. You know how those two perverts will react when they find out about it."
"Right. Because those two creeps would end up making the situation unmilitary for their pervertic sick jokes," Frank scoffed.
"Exactly," Andrew admitted. "And that's why we shouldn't tell them about this."
Frank decided not to say anything about that, as there was nothing else to add to it. Instead, he changed the subject by making this comment.
"Uh, well, I think we should check on Margaret's feet," he said simply.
"Great idea," Andrew remarked.
With that, the two of them wasted no time in heading to Margaret's tent. In Andrew's case, he had the medical supplies needed to treat Margaret's athlete's foot. It might take several days for her feet to fully heal, but this was just the start of it...
IN MARGARET'S TENT - 11:58
Meanwhile, in Margaret's tent, we see the head nurse lying on her cot, waiting for Andrew to return with the supplies needed for her athlete's foot.
Knowing Andrew, he would always come through for her, no matter how difficult it might be for him. The Major had been in plenty of tough situations before, so she had full confidence in him. She could only wait patiently for the big strong man to make it back to her tent.
After a few minutes have gone by, a knock was heard at her door, which got her to sit up and look towards the door.
"Who is it?" She called out to whoever that was.
"It's just the person who's going to take care of your feet," that voice belonged to Andrew, which got her to stand up.
"I'll unlock it for you, Andrew," she got up and went over to unlock the door.
"Oh, by the way, I hope you don't mind," Andrew was heard taking a deep breath. "But I got someone to assist me in this."
"You didn't get Pierce or McIntyre for this, did you," Margaret had an edgy-sounding tone in her voice.
"Not at all," Andrew told her. "They're the last people I'd want to have helped out with this."
"Oh, good," Margaret let out a sigh of relief. "Is it Corporal O'Reilly?"
"Not exactly," Andrew remarked. "He was told to go peddle his fish."
"I see," Margaret murmured. "Well, I guess you can come in with whoever is out there with you."
"Alright," Andrew said as Margaret unlocked the door, allowing Andrew to come in with the person who was assisting him in this.
The moment she opened the door did she get shocked by who Andrew was talking about. She couldn't believe her eyes. How did Andrew and Frank possibly form a partnership in this certain predicament? This was something that left her entirely confused.
"Frank? You got Frank to help out," Margaret wondered.
"Well sure. Why not," Andrew shrugged after he put the supplies onto Margaret's desk. "If you're worried, I talked with him earlier, and I told him to behave himself while helping me do this. Isn't that right, Frank?"
"Uh, yeah. The Major's right...uh, Margaret," Frank said slowly. "I won't be intimate at all."
"I hope so. Because these are my feet that we're dealing with," Margaret told him sternly. "And I haven't forgotten about your fascination with my feet."
"Fascination for what?" This got Andrew entirely confused.
"That's right Andrew," Margaret sighed. "Frank does have a fascination for feet. When we were a couple, he'd always beg me to let him lick my toenails, and kiss my feet."
"Gosh," Andrew gulped as he seemed shocked by that. "I...I never knew that."
"Yeah. I just hope that he doesn't get carried away with this," Margaret sighed. "He knows that you and I are a couple."
"I know. And I told him. Right, Frank?" Andrew gave Frank a look.
"Yeah. The Major's right," Frank was reluctant with saying that. "Margaret? I uh...well, that is, I promised the Major here that...I wouldn't make any trouble this time."
"Really? You promise?" Margaret had to double-check.
"Promise," Frank said softly.
"Okay, not that that's all set, what do you say we get right to applying powder and cream to treat your athlete's foot Margaret," Andrew decided to get back on track.
"Right," Margaret giggled. "We can start whenever you're ready, doctor."
"Sure," Andrew went over and grabbed the Sopronol Powder from the desk. "Hey uh, Frank? If you don't mind, could you help by keeping Margaret's legs up so I can use this stuff on her feet?"
"Oh. Okay," Frank didn't feel like arguing as he did what he was told by keeping her feet up.
"Alright Margaret," Andrew grabbed the can of powder. "Now I'm gonna powder some of this stuff on your feet. And then I'm gonna rub it in so it can sit."
"That sounds fine by me," Margaret said all nonchalant-like. "Go right ahead."
"Very well," Andrew shrugged as he took the cap off.
After he did that, he tap a modest amount of the Sopronol Powder right onto Margaret's right foot. Once there was a decent amount on her foot, he used his hands to massage and smooth in the Sopronol Powder all over her foot from the tops to her soles, getting right on top of her toes. This got Margaret to let out a couple of pleasurable moans from how he was handling this task.
"Does this feel comfortable Margaret," Andrew asked, noticing her expression as he did the same thing for her left foot.
"You have no idea Andrew," she sighed happily.
"Good. That's what I wanted to know," Andrew took another two minutes before he was finished applying the powder to both feet.
While he did that, Frank couldn't help but notice her feet. Despite the athlete's foot that was present, Frank seemed very fascinated by this. He couldn't help but make a sudden comment.
"Margaret, your feet look so attractive," Frank remarked. "Even though you have athlete's foot, I am fascinated by your beautiful feet."
"Gee, thanks Frank," Margaret said dryly as Andrew finished with the powder.
"Honestly Frank," Andrew shook his head as he put down the powder and took out that Dr. Scholl's Solvex tube out of the box, and grabbed a couple of cotton swabs. "I will never understand your fascination with other people's feet."
"Well, it's a long story Major, but it involves my wife's feet," Frank told him.
"Is that so," Andrew approached Margaret. "Tell me, how often did you see your wife's feet."
"Not often," Frank shrugged his shoulders. "She usually wore her shoes."
"As in her sensible shoes," Margaret added in a deadpanned voice.
"Please Margaret," Frank muttered.
"Alright now Margaret," Andrew took the cap off the tube. "I'm gonna apply this solvex with these cotton swabs right in between your toes. This will only take a few moments. Okay?"
"That'll do just fine Andrew." Margaret smiled.
Major Peterson only nodded as he took one of the swabs, swiped it across the solvex, getting the stuff onto the swab before he ran the swab right in between Major Houlihan's toes on her right foot, starting within between her big toe, and the toe next to it. As soon as he did that, he did the same for the other gaps in her toes.
Needless to say, Margaret seemed comfortable by this, as Andrew did this in such a smooth manner. She let out sighs and moans out of pleasure and comfort. He used a few cotton swabs for each gap shown to make sure all of them have had the solvex rubbed in between each toe. Andrew moved on and did the same for the left foot, which resulted in the same reaction from the head nurse.
After a few minutes, the Major was all done applying the solvex onto her. With that, Andrew tossed the used swabs into the trash can before closing up the tube and putting it back into the box.
"Alright Margaret, I think that should do it," Andrew stated. "Now you just have to let your feet relax and let that stuff settle in. I hope that helps."
"It sure does," Margaret smiled. "Thanks for the help, Andrew."
"Anytime," Andrew then turned to face Frank. "Alright Frank, you can let go of her legs."
"Huh? Oh! Right," Frank was too fascinated by her feet that he zoned out and didn't pay attention until Andrew called out to him.
As such, he let go of her legs and allowed her to relax and let her legs stretch out.
"Very good Frank," Margaret told him. "Thank you."
"Uh, yeah," Frank said. "Sure."
"Okay Frank, I think we're done here," Andrew motioned him towards the door. "Shall we take our leave?"
"Oh, right," Frank didn't say anything else as he got up and headed for the door.
Without turning around, Frank opened the door and walked out of Margaret's tent. Andrew followed right behind him out of the door. Before he could leave, he poked his head into the doorway with one more thing to say to Margaret.
"Oh, one more thing Margaret, are you sure you have nothing extra to wear on your feet," Andrew wondered. "Because you'll need to get around eventually. And you can go with just your bare feet."
"Well, I have a pair of flip-flops my sister sent to me," Margaret told him. "But they're against army regulations."
"If anyone asks, just say that they're only temporary until your new boots come in," Andrew told her. "Because your old boots are what caused the athlete's foot, so you can't wear those. However, if you want to limit the amount of time needed to leave your tent, feel free to do that."
"Right, I'll keep that in mind," Margaret said. "Thanks for the help darling."
"You're welcome dear," Andrew smiled. "One more thing, I'm leaving the powder and solvex in your tent so you can apply some to your feet 2 to 4 times a day. Be sure to do it again in a couple of hours, okay?"
"Alright," Margaret grinned.
"Great," said Andrew."I love you buttercup."
"I love you too honey," Margaret smiled. "Be sure to close the door for me, will you?"
"Right," Andrew nodded. "I'll be seeing you."
"You too."
Andrew then closed the door to Margaret's tent. He then walked away and headed straight for the mess tent to see what was being served for food. This was just the beginning of him tending to Margaret and her beautiful feet so her athlete's foot can be cured...
AT THE M*A*S*H 4077 - 15:23
Several hours have passed since then, and Andrew was going about with his day. There weren't too many interruptions going on, with the few exceptions of the two Captains pulling their usual practical jokes on Frank, all of which got Andrew to shake his head. In addition to that, Radar has been running his office like he should, while getting those forms filled out and getting Henry to sign each form and report that he worked on.
As far as Margaret was concerned, she was spending most of her time in her tent, unless she had to leave, in which she'd wear those flip flops before walking out, and taking them off after she steps back into her tent. At the moment, she had a green towel on her hand, and currently, she was dipping her feet into a bucket of warm soapy water, if only to wash her feet to help with the athlete's foot.
She had done this earlier, as she would bend down and scrub each part of her feet and right in between her toes. When she was done with the bucket, she'd take her feet out and then dry them off real good with that towel that she had. In addition to that, she would apply the powder and solvex after a couple of hours have gone by. Now, her feet were soaking again, and she was relaxing while letting her feet stay in the bucket.
She continued to do this for a few more minutes until someone knocked at her door.
"Yes? Who's there?" She wondered.
"It's me, your foot care doctor," that voice was from Andrew, which got Margaret to be filled with smiles.
"Alright. Come in Andrew," Margaret told him.
Andrew had opened the door and entered her tent, before closing it behind him. "Hey, Margaret. Dipping your feet into a bucket of warm soapy water again, huh?"
"Yes Andrew, that's what I'm doing," Margaret wiggled her toes from inside the bucket. "I've been doing this several times today. I'm gonna need to have this water changed over."
"I'll be happy to change it over for you Margaret," Andrew offered. "It's no trouble at all."
"Well, that's very nice of your Andrew," Margaret seemed grateful for that. "Now, what can I do for you baby?"
"Margaret, I want to show you something that I got in the mail today now that it's just the two of us in here," Andrew approached her cot and took out the letter he got earlier today. "It's something wonderful."
"Well, it must be if you're eager about it," Margaret said with a smirk. "What is it?"
"It's something that I got from the real estate agency that I sent for," Andrew took out the letter from the envelope and showed it to his mot. "It appears that they've given me several suggestions as to what kind of house we should move into when the war is over."
"Really," Margaret was interested in this. "What kind of houses did they send to you?"
"Plenty of them. They're all in the California state, and they are not far from the military hospital that you applied to get a job at," Andrew showed her the pictures. "All of them are beautiful houses, and each of them contains a nice swimming pool in the backyard, and there's even a two-car garage included too."
"Wow," Margaret's eyes lit up as she looked through all the photos of the houses shown. "Gosh Andrew. These houses are beautiful. I think one of these houses would look great for us to move into together after we get married."
"Exactly," Andrew nodded. "And I decided to have you choose which house we should move into since you are included in this plan. I want you to get a say in what house we should stay in."
"Yeah. That is generous of you Andrew," Margaret beamed. "And the house that we move into will also be the home where I will give birth to two beautiful children, which we will raise together."
"Oh yes, my dear," Andrew had that low tone manly voice. "You can take your time looking through it. We aren't moving into one of those houses until after the war."
"I know, my darling," Margaret understood, putting the envelope and paper onto her lamp desk. "And I'm happy that you're thinking of everything ahead of schedule so we don't have to rush at the last minute."
"Yup. It'll be worth the two of us living together," Andrew fantasized at that. "Anyway Margaret, I'd like you to move your feet out of the bucket since I'll change it over with fresh water soapy water."
"That would be great," Margaret moved her feet out of the bucket and dried them well with her towel. "Thanks for the help."
"It's my pleasure," Andrew grabbed the bucket, opened the door, and dumped the water outside to the side. "There. Now I'm going to go get this scrubbed up and then filled back up with more water soapy water."
"Okay," Margaret finished drying off her feet and wiggled her toes. "I'll be here, waiting for you."
"Gotcha," Andrew smiled before he walked out of the tent, closed the door behind him, and went for the scrub room.
Once he was gone, Margaret looked through the pictures of the houses that the real estate agent sent to Andrew. She was fascinated with them.
I have to wonder which of these houses would work best for me and the dreamboat of a big strong man. Margaret thought dreamily. It'll be worth having a warrior military man stay with me and make love together. Oh yes. I can hardly wait for that.
Margaret remained silent as she continued to look through those house photos on the paper that came with the letter. She was in no rush to go anyplace, so she was fine. She hoped that she could get those new boots soon so she could wear them along with breaking them in. Patience was the only thing that she could have at the moment...
IN THE MESS TENT - 9:23
A day has gone back since Andrew's started giving Margaret some foot care for her athlete's foot. It might be disgusting for some, but Andrew wasn't going to complain. He tended to other people's feet before and they were more severe than those of Margaret's. It's not something he hasn't done before. And besides, he enjoyed helping Margaret with her athlete's foot. So there were no issues with doing so.
Currently, we see Andrew eating some of his breakfast, or trying to without getting himself sick. He was just sitting at a deserted table, minding his own business when he heard the door open up. It was Margaret, and she was wearing those flip-flops that her sister sent to her. Upon seeing Andrew, she went over to that table and got his attention.
"Good morning Andrew," she greeted.
"Oh, good morning Margaret," he returned as she sat down right next to him. "How are your feet holding up? Still got athlete's foot?"
"Yes darling, I still have athlete's foot," Margaret sighed. "I think I'm gonna have it for another couple of days or so."
"I know dear, but as long as you've been treating them, your feet should be fine in no time," Andrew informed her. "Hopefully those new boots of yours will come sooner than later."
"I hope so too," Margaret sighed. "Anyway sweetie, I need you to help me out with something."
"Sure," Andrew put down his fork and butterknife. "What do you need help with?"
"Well you see, my feet are feeling a little sore, and the athlete's foot hasn't been helping at all," Margaret lifted her legs. "Would you help this lady out and massage my feet for me."
"Oh," Andrew blushed as he felt flustered. "Oh sure. I'll be happy to massage your feet."
"You are going to lose your appetite, are you?" Margaret wondered.
"Nah. I already lost my appetite upon seeing what dreck they're serving today," Andrew insisted, pushing his tray further away from him. "Trust me, I'll be fine."
"Alright," Margaret took off her flip-flops." Here are my feet. Start massaging them, darling."
"I've got it dear," Andrew said as she put her feet on his lap, and then he started massaging them. "How does this feel dollface?"
"Ooh...Ooh...It's...It's eep, comfortable," Margaret moaned in excitement. "I'm on fire right now, you dreamboat. I'm in the mood to kiss you."
"I know beautiful," Andrew gave her a flirtatious smile. "We can do that in a bit when we're in your tent."
"Believe me, Andrew, I'm already counting down the minutes until then," Margaret said with a seductive tone. "That feels good Andrew. Get in between my toes."
"You got it, Margaret," Andrew went and got in between her toes, which he massaged.
For what it's worth, both of them were happily enjoying this moment, even though they were sitting at a table in the mess tent where people were eating breakfast. The virile couple had this strong urge to go to Margaret's tent and have their kissing fest in private since both of them felt turned on.
Unfortunately, the moment was then ruined when the door to the mess tent was heard opening up again. This time it was the two captains; Hawkeye and Trapper. They were looking for a place to sit and saw the table that Andrew and Margaret were sitting at. Seeming curious by this, the two of them approached the table to see what they were doing.
However, once they saw what Andrew was doing to Margaret's feet, they felt smirks crawling up, and they felt the need to comment about this predicament.
"Hello, hello, hello. What do we have here," Hawkeye teased. "Major Peterson is giving his lady Houlihan a foot massage."
"This helps get me on both of my own feet," Trapper joked dryly.
"Oh for goodness sake," Andrew looked annoyed by this. "What do you two want?"
"Nothing. We were just passing by," Hawkeye shrugged. "And we couldn't help but notice you massaging Margaret's feet Andrew."
"Hey, once you're done with that, be sure to play footsies with her hot feet, which goes great with her hot lips," Trapper quirked.
"Why don't you two go peddle your fish," Margaret hissed.
"I love too, but the mess tent isn't serving fish, and there are no flowers to pluck the petals off of," Hawkeye made a dry deadpan joke.
"Besides, this is the real attraction," Trapper told them. "When do you plan on clipping her toenails, Andrew?"
"Really?" Andrew was growing irritated by that. "Why would I clip her toenails?"
"Search me," Trapper shrugged. "But it looks like you want to do more with her feet than just massage it."
"If I were you, Andrew, I'd paint her toenails after your done with that," Hawkeye suggested jokingly. "Trapper and I have done it with plenty of the nurses here."
"I think I've noticed that Captain," Margaret retorted. "In any case, Andrew is just helping me out."
"Helping out with what?" Hawkeye queried.
"None of your beeswax," Margaret growled. "Now blow!"
"Find some other nurse to pester you two," Andrew grumbled. "That way you can be off of our backs and we can continue doing what we're doing."
"Geez Louise. You ask what they're doing, and they return with scowls," Trapper retorted dryly. "You just can't please a man and his missus."
"Well, we should let Andrew blow on Margaret's feet and let him do whatever he's doing," Hawkeye sighed. "And in the meantime, we can find our 'own' nurses to give them a foot massage."
"Roger doctor. That's the best idea you've had today Hawk," Trapper commented. "Maybe after that, we can round up some more nurses, bring them to the Swamp, and drown ourselves in gin and booze."
"I was going to suggest that too Trap," Hawkeye smirked. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go find some nurses to give them a foot massage."
"I'm right behind you," Trapper obliged as he was also smirking.
Afterwards, they left their table to find some nurses to tend to. Once they were gone, Andrew and Margaret let out a sigh of relief.
"Wow. I thought they'd never leave," Andrew admitted before speaking softly. "It's a good thing we didn't tell them about your athlete's foot Margaret."
"I'm happy about that too, Andrew," Margaret whispered in agreement.
"Anyway Margaret, I'm just about done with massaging your feet," Andrew told her. "Are you all set now, my dear?"
"Yes, I am, darling," Margaret smiled as she pulled her feet off of his lap and slipped into her flip-flops. "That helped a lot. Thanks, Andrew."
"You're quite welcome," Andrew grinned. "So would you like to just sit with me at this table and keep me company for a bit?"
"Well sure, I got nothing else to do right now," Margaret accepted. "Maybe later in my tent, we can have our kissing fest together."
"You said it," Andrew grinned romantically. "And some more of that footcare treatment will be done in the comfort of your tent too."
"I can hardly wait," Margaret smirked dreamily.
They didn't say another word as they sat at that table together for a good amount of time. Things were starting to fall into place in regards to Margaret's feet, and they would feel 100% better soon enough...
A couple of days have passed since then. It seems that time was moving rather quickly for Andrew at the M*A*S*H 4077. The business was slow since there were little to no casualties sent to the medical unit, so Andrew used that time wisely.
There's also the fact that taking care of Margaret's feet like her footcare specialist made it go by quickly, seeing that he's spent quite a bit of time with her, treating her feet with the powder and the solvex when she wasn't soaking them in warm soapy warm.
Speaking of which, he spent multiple times washing out that bucket and refilling it up again with warm soapy water for Margaret to use. He would also give Margaret a fresh dry towel to dry her feet off once the other towel has been used up. It was quite a bit of work for him, but it was worse helping his beautiful mot.
Besides, he never had a problem with doing nurses' work since he's done it before. It helped him with exploring how women do things and how much he respects all that they do for men. Most men would brush it off and take them for granted. Not Andrew though. He would oftentimes lend a hand with women's work. And would not complain about it.
Currently, we are focused on Henry's office, which was filling out some paperwork that Radar wanted him to sign. He had been running the hospital shift with relative ease. It also helps that there weren't many medical patients so to speak.
He was expecting a delivery sent to the 4077th anytime now since those boots were due to arrive at the unit today. This also went for Radar, who was in his office sorting through the folders and whatnot.
Several minutes have gone by without anything happening. It remained silent until a jeep pulled up, and the sound of the jeep horn honking away was heard, which got Henry to jump to his feet and stand up.
Oh for Pete's sake. Who could that be? Henry thought as he headed for the door. That better be the jeep with that boots that Houlihan asked for. I hope that this horse's patoot that they are those army boots. I'm not prezactly someone who can keep track of delivery orders.
As soon as he opened the door, he stepped into Radar's office and called out. "Radar!?"
"Sir? Jeep's here," Radar came back into his office. "The package with the boots Houlihan issued has arrived."
"Well, ain't that swell Radar?" Henry sighed in relief. "I hope these boots will keep Major Houlihan from becoming pigeon-toed just like Lorraine. The last thing that this man's outfit needs are for another woman to be just like my wife, with the nagging and such."
"Yes sir. Understandable sir," Radar then motioned him to come outside. "Come outside. The supply sergeant needs your signature."
"Who doesn't need my signature in Korea," Henry stepped outside. "Alrighty. Here we go."
As soon as Henry stepped outside, he saw the supply sergeant standing in front of the jeep while giving the Lt. Colonel a salute.
"Afternoon sir," he greeted.
"Yes, well, afternoon sergeant," Henry gave him a quick salute under his fishing lure bucket hat. "What brings you to the ol' 4077th?"
"Well sir, we have a package that was issued for this M*A*S*H unit," the supply sergeant took out a box from the back seat of the jeep and showed it to him. "These are the boots that a 'Major Houlihan' had issued to get."
"Welp, that's the most spectacular news this man's hospital has gotten," Henry smiled sheepishly. "We can't say how much we truly appreciate this sergeant."
"The feeling is mutual Colonel," the sergeant went and gave him a clipboard with a paper attached to it and a pen. "Now if you'll just sign this form, it states that you've authorized this package to have reached its proper location and that the owner of these new boots has possession of them."
"Righty-o sergeant," Henry took the clipboard and pen and signed his name at the bottom of the paper like he usually does. "Alrighty, and there. It's all signed."
"Great. It's good doing business with you sir," the sergeant handed him the package. "And we apologize for this package arriving so late."
"Well, you know what they say, better late than never," Henry remarked with that smile. "If I do say so myself."
"Very well. I must take my leave," the sergeant gave him a salute. "Hope to see you again soon Colonel."
"Same to you too sergeant," Henry gave him a salute with his free hand. But by doing so, he got his fingers caught in one of the fish hooks on his hat, getting him to wince and struggle to get them out.
"Alright. I best be going," the sergeant got back into his jeep. "I'll be seeing you."
"Alrighty sergeant," Henry grunted in pain while struggling to pull his free hand from the fishhooks on his hat. "Thanks again, and goom-bye."
The sergeant only nodded as he started up the jeep and drove it out of the 4077th. As he was driving away, Henry managed to pry his hand free from the fishhook. However, it was still painful since he could feel the throb in his finger.
"Radar!" Henry yelled out in pain as his finger was still throbbing. "Can you please-"
"Go find Major Peterson and tell him Houlihan's boots've arrived," Radar said in unison with Henry as he was standing beside him that whole time. "Got it, sir."
With that, Radar went for Andrew's tent to tell him exactly what has shown up and that they should be delivered to Margaret. Meanwhile, Henry shook his free hand several times to shake off the pain. It only took a couple more moments before the finger stopped throbbing, and he was able to hold the box in two hands again.
Before he could go back inside, he was stopped by Frank, who had called out from behind him to inform him about something.
"Colonel Blake, all the garbage lying around in the M*A*S*H 4077 has been properly disposed of and removed from the compound," Frank informed him as he stood right in front of Henry.
"Alright Frank, at ease," Henry instructed. "I guess that's good news."
"You bet it is. Now some of the trash in the compound is gone. I only wish I could say the same about those commies," Frank said before noticing the box in Henry's hand. "Is that a package?"
"Well Frank, it must be since a supply sergeant delivered it no longer than a few minutes ago," Henry told him.
"Are those the new boots that Major Houlihan sent out for," Frank wondered.
"No Frank. No. These happen to be a pair of fuzzy pink slippers that my wife sent to me," Henry retorted. "What do you think they are?"
"Now Colonel, no need to get smart with me," Frank scowled. "I was just curious."
"You're always curious as to whether or not it follows army regulation," Henry fired back. "And if you must know, these are the army boots...that Major Houlihan sent out for, and they finally arrived."
"Well good," Frank settled down. "That means this delivery can be put down on the requisition form and how it was safely delivered to this sole property of the U.S. Army."
"Don't remind me, Frank," Henry rolled his eyes as he entered Radar's office, with Frank behind him. "I'll get Radar to do that once he gets back with Andrew."
"I hope so Colonel," Frank decided to warn him. "Because we wouldn't want word to leak out to the general if this delivery was missing on the latest requisition report."
"Believe me, Frank, I wouldn't want that too," Henry deadpanned. "I'll make sure of it."
"You better," Frank grunted. "I mean it. Do not forget about it."
"Alrighty, Frank. Whatever," Henry put the box down on Radar's desk before heading back into his office.
That left Frank alone for the moment, as there was no other reason for him to be there. Feeling that he did his duty, for now, Frank turned around and decided to leave the building to do his usual business elsewhere. It wouldn't be long now until Radar returned with Andrew so he could deliver that package to Margaret personally. It looks like this scenario was starting to wind down...
IN MARGARET'S TENT - 20:08
Meanwhile, in Margaret's tent, we see the head nurse in her pink bathrobe, as she was lying down in her cot, reading while her legs were stretching out. She even wiggled her toes several times and would peek occasionally to see how her feet were holding up.
By this point, it seemed that the athlete's foot was starting to dwindle. The feet were in good condition, and there didn't seem to be anything wrong with them. That's something that Margaret was grateful for, and she had Andrew to thank for making it possible.
She continued to read for several more minutes when yet another knock was heard at the door. She had a feeling who that was, but she wanted to make sure of it anyway.
"Andrew? Is that you?" Margaret queried.
"Yes Margaret," Andrew's voice was heard. "I'm here with a special delivery to give to you."
"Well come on in sweetie," she encouraged him.
Andrew opened the door and entered her tent with that box in his hands. Margaret looked up from her book to see Andrew standing right there. Her sight was caught by the box that he was carrying. Putting her book down, Margaret decided to find out what's in the package.
"Is that for me," Margaret raised an eyebrow. "Is that what I think it is?"
"Maybe it is Margaret. But it's just a certain pair of boots that you've been waiting for," Andrew grinned.
"Really? Let me see that," Margaret requested as Andrew handed her the box as she opened it for herself, and took the boots out. "Ah, they're here! They're finally here!"
"Those are the boots, aren't they," Andrew smirked confidentially.
"You bet they are sweetie," Margaret beamed as she put them to the side. "Oh Andrew, I could bite your clusters for making this possible."
"Believe me, Margaret, you aren't the only one who thought of that," Andrew sat on the cot next to her. "It just goes to show what can happen if we take appropriate action."
"No kidding there Andrew," Margaret laughed. "They 'really' came through with this, and it's all thanks to you."
"Anytime, my dear," Andrew laughed heartily. "I'm just glad that you don't have to wear those old boots anymore."
"Same here darling," Margaret gushed. "And to think that I'm in a really good mood today."
"I can see that judging by the grin on your face," Andrew remarked. "I'm in a good mood knowing that you're in a good mood Margaret."
"And I'm in a good mood, knowing that you're in a good mood as a result of me being in a good mood Andrew," Margaret gleamed as her eyes glistened.
"That says it all, honeybunch," Andrew scooted closer to his mot. "So anyway, how are your feet doing? Do you still have athlete's foot?"
"I don't suppose so, Mr. Big Strong Man. I think my feet are doing better," Margaret said.
"May I see one of them, please," Andrew requested.
Margaret didn't say anything. With a mischievous smirk on her face, she took her left foot and rubbed it playfully into Andrew's face. A massive blush was forming on his face as a result of this act.
"Does this answer your question darling," Margaret asked in such an erotic manner.
"W-W-Wow...Gosh...Whoa...Uh...I mean...Wow...Holy mackerel," Andrew stuttered as he smelled her left foot. "Gee Margaret. Your foot smells beautiful. I-I-I mean I like it! No. I love it!"
"You 'really' think so," Margaret had that sly smirk on her face.
"Yes. Absotively," Andrew chuckled sheepishly. "This foot is better. No. It's excellent."
"Oh Andrew, you silly billy," Margaret giggled. "You fuddy-duddy. Let me show you my right foot."
She pulled her left foot away, in which Andrew wanted to say something. But before he could, Margaret did the same thing with her right foot, as Andrew got a good taste of it, along with the scent. Andrew's cheeks were bright red by this point, something that Margaret was counting on.
"It's making you wild, isn't it darling?" Margaret asked teasingly, getting Andrew to nod. "I thought so. And do you love it?"
"Oh geez. Gee whiz. Uh, holy cow. Golly gee, Margaret," Andrew stuttered like a silly man. "I love this foot too. And now...I feel like I'm on fire..."
"Good. I was counting on that you silly goose," Margaret smirked. "Because I'm on fire too. And it takes the love of a big strong man to put out that flame."
"I feel that my flame can be put out by a beautiful gorgeous looking lady," Andrew had that low tone manly voice. "One that I can share all my love with."
"You know it," Margaret was satisfied as she pulled her right foot away from Andrew's face.
"Yup. Your feet are back to normal," Andrew said simply. "No more athlete's foot."
"And those new boots will make sure that I don't get it anymore."
"I hope so, dear."
"Me too darling," Margaret decided to bring something up with him. "By the way, I looked through those houses in that letter you gave me, and there are several of them that interest me."
"Is that so?" Andrew was curious about this.
"Yes. And to be honest, I circled the houses that interest me the most," Margaret grabbed that paper and showed it to Andrew. "The ones circled are the ones I'm thinking that should be a house we move into once the war is over and after we get married."
"Wow," Andrew looked at the photos and saw the ones that Margaret circled. "Golly. Yeah, the ones you circled are excellent choices. We can save which one to pick once they declare peace in Korea. It'll be worth having my beautiful dollface with me."
"I feel the same way about a charming and handsome brave man that's with me right now," Margaret then leaned up to Andrew's face and gave him a very passionate kiss right on the mouth. "Andrew, that's to show just how wonderful our love is."
"Yeah, I agree," Andrew laughed heartily as a silly grin popped up on his face. "Anything I do with you is fun."
Margaret nodded as she was shown laughing along with Andrew. While they were doing that, Andrew felt something stir up in his pants, and in a matter of minutes, a bulge formed right in between his legs. Andrew didn't notice it at first, but Margaret did. Rather than feel shocked, she seemed so calm and nonchalant when she addressed it to Andrew.
"Andrew, you have a bulge forming in your pants again," Margaret pointed out with a lusty glint in her eyes.
"Huh," Andrew saw it for himself, but he didn't seem embarrassed by it like he did last time in that swimming pool. "Whoop. Sorry about that Margaret. Guess I'm in a really good mood."
"No doubt about that, and there's no need to apologize," Margaret insisted. "It's just nature taking its course. It's natural. Plus, it shows me how much of a man you're becoming. You are a very exciting man who's virile with a lot of masculinity."
"Believe me, dear, I haven't forgotten," Andrew grinned. "And I'm glad about it. I'm feeling more like a man the more I'm spending time with you."
"And I'm feeling more like a woman the more I'm with you, darling," Margaret smirked seductively.
"Yup." Andrew grinned. "Well, it looks like it isn't going away anytime soon."
"I got the perfect remedy," Margaret stood and walked sexily towards her door to make sure it's closed before she locked it. "I say we should play some hanky panky together. Just to get out that wild sensation."
"Oh ho ho ho, I'd love to have that Margaret," Andrew had a very goofy grin at that. "I enjoy our kissing fests and whenever we play hanky panky or making out with our clothes on."
"Sure, we might have to wash these clothes, Andrew," Margaret brought up. "But it's worth every minute we share our love [together]."
"Oh my," Andrew was feeling lusty. "Please kiss me before I go crazy."
"I'm about to go crazy unless you kiss me, Andrew," Margaret remarked.
"It takes one to know one," Andrew smirked as they both got back onto Margaret's cot. "I love you so much, buttercup."
"I love you so much too, honey," Margaret looked at him with that flirtatious look and lusty grin. "Let's show just how crazy we are for each other."
"Ohhhh, Margaret," Andrew went and embraced the head nurse.
"Ohhhh, Andrew," Margaret returned the embrace as their lips were drawn into each other.
At that moment, once their lips made contact, they began their usual kissing fests. It lasted for 7 to 10 minutes which led to them collapsing right onto Margaret's cot, in which they were on top of each other. It looked like they were making out while kissing.
Eventually, they ceased kissing as their mouths slowly separated from the other. Margaret then grabbed a hold of Andrew, and they managed to have some romantic fun together. They were about to play hanky panky together.
We are now treated to an outside view of Margaret's tent. However, several noises were heard from the inside of the tent. Aside from some kissing and smooching sounds, there were also pleasurable moans, amorous yelps, and some squeaking noise that came from what it was they were doing together in that tent.
Other stuff that was heard include Andrew speaking in his low-tone manly voice several mushy romantic comments, with Margaret giving him similar comments, they exchanged remarks about how the other is so good to them, wet-sounding kisses, and Andrew was heard laughing heartily with his mot. They were sharing love, and this was the perfect time for them to do it without being caught. It was a beautiful sensation.
One could only wonder how these two Majors enjoy doing this together so much. But it wasn't really important. They were happy to have this kind of debauchery type of fun, especially since neither of them is married yet.
Regardless, Andrew has been through plenty of mishaps with his lady, but it was worth being with her for everything that goes on. He couldn't have had it any better if he wasn't stationed at the M*A*S*H 4077th. And that's a guarantee...
END OF CHAPTER 38...
Yeah. Sorry that I took so long with finishing up this chapter. In addition to the burnout, I had trouble at first with coming up with a good idea for this chapter, and some other stuff came up that kept me occupied. Still, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter regardless.
Anyway, this chapter might seem somewhat cliche to some, seeing that it's dealing with feet, and there are plenty of readers on this site who have a fascination for feet. I just hope that this chapter wasn't too disturbing in that category.
One more thing that I should share, I wanted to limit the use of Hawkeye and Trapper for this chapter, hence why they only appear in one scene. This is to give more focus on Margaret as well as Andrew, with everyone else getting at least two scenes, with Radar getting at least 4 scenes. I just want you all to know.
Anyway, the next chapter will show Hawkeye having some sleeping troubles. In addition to that, some facts about Hawkeye's early life are revealed, more facts about Crabapple Cove are unraveled, and some other stuff will be included too. How will this go for everyone? Find out next time.
Now, you can leave a review if you want to. I'm honestly not up to suggesting what kind; either or works for me. That's it.
Aside from that, I got nothing else to say. So until the next chapter comes out, I hope you all take care of yourselves! And on that note, thanks again for reading everyone!