Alright, ladies and gentlemen! Here is the 42nd chapter of this story!
Now, I've been trying to think long and hard, regarding how this chapter should go. One thing is for sure, this chapter will give some focus to Father Mulcahy, in which he tries to do something to show how useful he is to the M*A*S*H 4077th.
This is even though he's a priest and that he already gives him a great amount of importance in regards to religion and the patients' last rites, along with providing sermons, eulogies, and other topics that involve being a catholic. In other words, Father Mulcahy finds himself to be underused at the M*A*S*H 4077 while everyone else seems to signify their importance.
To put it simply, parts of this will be somewhat influenced by 'Mulcahy's War'; a season 5 episode, with several changes, aside from Henry and Trapper being in the outfit and Andrew being included in the mix. With that being said, how will this go for the Chaplin? Will Father Mulcahy have some sort of importance to the 4077 beyond being the camp priest? And what else will be in store for the M*A*S*H unit? Find out right now!
IN THE MESS TENT - 12:33
It was a new day at the M*A*S*H 4077. Currently, most of the personnel were in the mess tent, helping themselves to some lunch, or what was supposed to be lunch, according to most of them. At one of the tables, we see Andrew. He wasn't touching the lunch on his plate, as he was a bit occupied with reading a magazine; specifically a TIME magazine. There seemed to be some interesting articles in there, and it got him curious.
Aside from Andrew, Hawkeye and Trapper were also sitting at that table, attempting to eat their meals. Also sitting at that table were Frank and Henry, as they too were trying to eat. They didn't bother to comment about the magazine Andrew was reading, as they just tried to eat. No one said a word for several minutes until Radar approached their table with a tray full of food, and he got their attention.
"Uh, 'cuse me, sirs," Radar got their attention. "Would it be alright if I'd sit at this table? With all you commissioned officers?"
"Why yes, sirree, Radar," Henry remarked. "You can sit with us."
"Yeah Radar," Andrew looked up from his magazine. "We're all pretty great officers."
"Well, almost all of us are good officers," Hawkeye queered, looking towards Frank for emphasis before faking a cough. "Frank Burns is an exception."
"Well, why are you picking on me for," Frank spoke up. "It's not like I'm a bad officer! I'm a Major, and this pin proves it!"
"Could've fooled us," Trapper shrugged casually. "In any case Radar, our table is your table. So just make yourself at home."
"Gee, thanks Trapper," Radar thanked him and sat down next to Henry.
"I protest," Frank barked. "Having an enlisted man sitting with us is disgraceful! Even if he is a non-commissioner! This is an Officer's table!"
"Radar, pretend that your a 2nd Lieutenant for us," Trapper told him dryly. "Otherwise, Frankie here will have to send out a firing squad for allowin' a Corporal to join our ranks."
"Well, it's true! A Corporal isn't a commissioned Officer," Frank defended. "Anyone higher than a 2nd Lieutenant should be eligible."
"Frank, how would you feel if we were to demote you back to a sergeant," Hawkeye threatened. "Then Trapper and I could order you out of this table, and into another war for that matter."
"What? I did not just hear that Pierce," Frank scoffed.
"Would you like me to translate for you Ferret Face?" Trapper retorted. "You sergeant. We officers. Kick you out to another war. Comprende?"
"I've never been insulted in all my life," Frank scowled. "This was a decent war until you two draftees showed up."
"Okay, let's knock off the bickering, will ya," Henry told them. "Some of us are trying to eat our lunch here."
"Some more than others," Hawkeye retorted.
"The Colonel's right. Let's not make this into a debate," Andrew issued. "Let's just allow Radar to eat with us, and not go on about it any further. Understood?"
Frank only huffed, and he said nothing else about it. The rest of them went back to what they were doing. In Radar's case, he was chomping down his lunch like it was nothing. It's as if he had the largest appetite in all of Korea. It was amazing.
Meanwhile, Andrew went back to reading his magazine and found some articles that caught his interest. They involved the Korean War, and they were rather peculiar. He was distracted by it for the next couple of minutes.
Eventually, Frank looked over and saw that Andrew was reading a magazine. Feeling a little curious by this, Frank decided to go over to Andrew and find out what he was reading.
"Major? What are you reading," Frank queried.
"Oh, this? Well, I'm just reading a couple of magazine articles," Andrew answered calmly. "Or I should say that I've been reading articles that relate to the army."
"You mean like how to maneuver a howitzer or to operate a Sherman tank," Hawkeye asked rhetorically and sardonically.
"Be serious Pierce. It's not that at all," Andrew deadpanned. "No, it's actually about the war."
"Don't we have enough guerrilla warfare in Korea that's responsible for all the casualties here?" Trapper retorted. "Not to mention, all the Korean orphans that lose their homes thanks to the war?"
"Very funny McIntyre," Andrew laughed sarcastically. "It's specifically about the Korean War. You know; the Korean Conflict? What we're in the middle of currently? That Korean War?"
"Go figure," Hawkeye snorted. "I thought that this endless fighting was due to a poker game that the North Koreans had played with the South Koreans, getting everyone else in the UN involved in the center of it, along with the Chinese."
"In that case, all the casualties we've been getting were due to being struck by poker chips, and poker cards. They were also wounded by clubs, spades, hearts, and diamonds," Trapper said sarcastically. "Not to mention the wounded happened from how they lost at a poker game."
"Hmph. That's just like you goons to talk about poker games and gambling," Frank said snidely. "While you bozos get your money from playing your poker games, I get my money earned from the war bonds that I signed up for."
"Frank, do we have to talk about this again," Hawkeye wondered in annoyance. "As to why we didn't sign up for war bonds?"
"War is terrible. It stinks to know generals and colonels enjoy war just for profit. And yet, your a major," Trapper retorted. "Hawkeye and I don't believe in war for profit. Besides, when it comes to that, we get a little amnesiac in the head."
"Oh, phooey to you guys," Frank scoffed. "You guys are just jealous at how much I'm making."
"Are you cereal Frank? I've come from a long line of money-grubbers," Hawkeye retorted. "Or do I have to remind you about the whole Pioneer Aviation debacle?"
"Oh go soak your head, Pierce," Frank fired back.
"Why don't you soak your head, Frank? Preferably in the latrines." Trapper snorted.
"Okay guys, that's enough," Andrew told them to stop. "This is about the Korean War. Nothing to do with poker games, war bonds, or anything like that. This has nothing to do with money, period."
"Well then, any idea on what it is about?" Frank queried.
"This involves one of the many fights that have occurred since this war started," Andrew answered before turning a page. "For instance, the First Battle of Maryang-san resulted in the UN, mainly Australia, pushing the Chinese PVA k from the Imjin River to the Jamestown Line and destroyed elements of four PVA armies following the heavy fighting."
"That ain't a surprise," Hawkeye yawned. "Considering how there was a limited UN offensive by US I Corps, where they went commando and didn't care how many casualties came up from it."
"There was probably enough casualties to fill up a blood bank," Trapper said dryly.
"You guys, there were at least 104 wounded counted from the report, and 20 fatalities," Andrew told them. "And it showed just how much of an imperative alliance the Australian Army is to the UN, especially since they're still on our side of the ongoing war."
"Makes no difference to me," Frank snorted. "The Australians got involved in this war because the Americans provided for them in the UN."
"You know Frank, I could have sworn that we tattooed the word 'individuality' onto your forehead once before," Hawkeye wondered dryly.
"And I told you before, individuality is just fine, as long as we do it together," Frank defended. "And the Australians are on our side. Therefore, they don't pose a threat to the U.S. Army."
"Suppose they did Frank," Trapper put down his fork and gave him an incredulous look. "Let's say that Australia switched sides on us. They decided to join the North Koreans' side with the Chinese. Then what would you do?"
"If they had turned treason on the U.S. Army, then it would be fitting that they'd get the same treatment as the commies, such as being held as POWs." Frank retorted.
"But that's not the case Frank," Andrew informed him. "They're part of the UN."
"Which is what I...errr, was thinking all along, Major Peterson," Frank cleared his throat nervously.
"Thanks, Frank," Andrew thanked him sincerely. "Aside from that, of the US Commanders who had aided the Australians in this predicament, they were General Matthew Ridgway and General James Van Fleet."
"To whom we as American Soldiers hold in such high regards," Frank said in such a patriotic manner. "And they were also West Pointers, aiding us to drive out the commies that are the North Koreans and Chinese."
"How typical," Hawkeye retorted. "Just two more pain in the brasses."
"All US generals are alike to draftee doctors such as Hawkeye and I," Trapper added in a dry tone. "Especially the West Pointers."
"Now listen here, you two," Frank started to sneer.
"Look, can we lay off the G.I talk?" Henry requested. "At least until we're done with lunch."
"Right. I'll see you after recess Frank," Hawkeye scoffed, getting Frank to glare at him.
"And besides, what's so bad about being a West Pointer," Andrew wondered. "From what I've read, West Pointers are more often than not, very successful military generals."
"There ya have it," Trapper motioned his hands to him. "There's our Andrew; our official G.I. Joe."
"Well, now, I wouldn't say that I am," Andrew sounded modest. "Even though I was in the army, I don't think I would be considered that."
"Very humble Andrew," Hawkeye rolled his eyes. "Maybe we should look through your records again."
"That won't be necessary," Andrew said as Margaret entered the mess tent. "Because in my case, I could never be as huge or important as any supreme leader or general in the U.S. Army."
"In which case, I could solemnly do without," Hawkeye remarked.
"Here here," Trapper agreed with him.
"Hey," Margaret got their attention. "What's going on?"
"Andrew here was talking about some of the articles from his magazine," Hawkeye answered on the spot.
"And Frank here was telling us how important certain generals of the US are," Trapper spoke up. "For which they love to impose on foreign lands and make places like Korea look like a hellhole. That's Ferret Face's views on the world."
"Why don't you go peddle your fish McIntyre," Frank snapped.
"Yeah," Andrew said sheepishly. "We were just discussing military, even if the captains don't seem to agree with it."
"I see," she said simply as she took a seat right next to Andrew. "Anyway, what else were you talking about, Andrew?"
"Well, we were mainly talking about generals," Andrew answered her query. "There were two of them that I mentioned to these guys."
"Margaret should know who they are," Hawkeye teased. "She probably had an affair with them."
"They both enjoy making out with Hot Lips," Trapper joined in on the teasing.
"Okay. Knock it off you two," Andrew scowled. "I don't want that to be brought up again."
"Andrew is right," Margaret agreed, disgusted with how the two Captains mentioned her former affairs with the generals. "There's no need to bring that up."
"Not to mention the fact that there hasn't been one general Houlihan has approached to go over my head," Henry sighed. "She's done it so many times, you can see her bootprints on my scalp."
"Well it may not get to that point if you had the backbone to maintain some military discipline around here," Frank commented.
"Oh Frank," Henry shook his head. "I should have expected that from the guy who gets constant athlete's foot."
"We should know," Hawkeye spoke up. "We smell his feet all the time."
"That and his socks which he never bothers to wash up," Trapper remarked.
"Now that is a lie," Frank protested. "I'll have you know that I wash my socks along with the rest of my laundry."
"The way he does his laundry is exactly how he'd use a sharp tool," Hawkeye retorted. "Which would explain the holes in his socks."
"And his shorts, shirts, and underwear," Trapper said.
"Okay, enough of that folks," Andrew held his hands up and got them to stop. "We were talking about generals, and that's that."
"Yeah," Hawkeye said. "According to Frank, all generals should be like General MacArthur."
"Just plain MacArthur," Trapper added jokingly.
"Hey, speaking of General MacArthur," Andrew decided to read another article before Frank starts going off on the two Captains again. "Sometime after the Korean War recently began, General MacArthur threatened to use nuclear weapons in Korea. The same method used in Hiroshima during World War II."
"Terrific," Hawkeye remarked sarcastically. "How would he have used the nuclear weapons anyway? Would he fire it with his cork pipe?"
"He'll probably use his khakis as a banner, warning us that we cannot win," Trapper retorted in agreement. "Like some kind of propaganda."
"Give yourselves up. You can't win. Douglas MacArthur," Hawkeye recited. "That's from the propaganda bomb that hit the 4077th. The missile that's property of the CIA. The one that Henry misread the directions of needing to remove the fuse first."
"Don't remind me of that Pierce," Henry moaned at that moment of idiocy that Hawkeye was bringing up with him.
"Hmph! I don't blame MacArthur for wanting to blast Korea with nuclear weapons," Frank scoffed. "If it's the only way to get rid of these yellow rats that are North Koreans and Chinese Communists, then it's worth it."
"Oh yeah, sure Frank," Hawkeye scowled sarcastically as he gave Frank an angry look. "And when your 'supreme commander' MacArthur caused damages towards all the villages, homes and all the casualties and deaths that'll occur from his little nuclear attack, you'll lose all of your money from your war bonds thanks to the death and destruction in Korea leaving you bankrupted."
"Oh, shut your yap Pierce," Frank snapped. "That 'really' cuts me to the quick!"
"What's the matter Frank," Trapper jumped in on the sarcasm. "Afraid that we're giving you constructive criticism? That you stink? That your 'by-the-book' army routine is overbearing at times. Well, tough toenails Frank. Because it's true, Ferret Face!"
"Why you...you..." Frank was getting furious.
"Who are you calling a 'you-you'?" Hawkeye queried rhetorically.
"You...PIERCE!" Frank bellowed.
"ALRIGHT, THAT'S QUITE ENOUGH!" Andrew had to step in before things get out of hand in the mess tent. "Now the last thing that I want to have is for there to be a fight in the mess tent! So put a lid on it!"
"Andrew is right," Margaret agreed. "This is ridiculous."
"Well, they started it." Frank defended.
"It doesn't matter who started it," Andrew insisted. "I'm gonna put an end to it."
"The Major's right," Henry moaned. "Let's knock it off."
"And besides, that propaganda bomb thing isn't anything new to me," Andrew exclaimed as Father Mulcahy came into the mess tent. "I've seen in many armies that have been struck by a propaganda warning bomb from the enemy's side of the warzone."
"Wow." Radar uttered in awe as he finished eating.
"Wow is right, Radar," Andrew smirked. "It happens once every war. It's nothing new."
"I can vouch for that," Trapper remarked dryly.
"Hello," Father Mulcahy got their attention. "What's all the commotion?"
"Oh nothin' Father," Henry spoke up. "Just the simple ol' discussion of G.I. talk and whatnot."
"I see," the Father seemed sheepish by that.
"In any case Father, how is your day going?" Andrew queried.
"Well, it's going well, you know," the Chaplin told him slowly.
"That's always good," Andrew smiled shyly. "I suppose."
"Yes. It sure is, Major," Father Mulcahy muttered.
The Chaplin remained silent for the next few minutes or so. All he could do was stare at the medical crew who was sitting at the table. They were all mainly good at doing what they do with their prevalent talent for saving lives.
Hawkeye and Trapper were known as the best chest cutters or thoracic surgeons in the outfit, with Hawkeye being appointed the chief surgeon for a good reason. Henry Blake was considered the best diagnostician to have come from Bloomington Illinois, and while his commanding officer efficiency is lacking, his surgical talent is remarkable.
Andrew, despite being the modest man he is, has shown time after time again that he can hold his own as a doctor and a surgeon, and that he is within the same ranks as the rest of the senior medical crew. Margaret Houlihan was the head nurse, and she was excellent with what she does with helping out some of the fellow doctors and surgeons, as well as being responsible for the rest of the nursing staff. Even Frank, despite his inept surgical skills, has shown to have at least some knowledge of doctoring, which in turn shows him to be a somewhat competent doctor.
By contrast, Father Mulcahy was just the Chaplin of the M*A*S*H 4077, and all he usually did in OR was give dying patients their last rites before they pass away. While that seemed to be of significant importance to the compound, the Father had to wonder if it was enough to consider him in the same ranks as the rest of the senior staff.
Radar was the company clerk, and he was always keeping track of supplies they need, making sure Henry fills out those forms and knows when he's needed before it's told to him. And then there was Klinger, who despite seeming determined to get a Section 8 Discharge, does tend to take his job seriously, be it a corpsman, sentry guard, or when on K.P. And where does that leave the Father? Is his only significance in the 4077th to be the camp priest?
Just looking at these brave doctors and the head nurse, and their prevalent talent for saving lives in OR makes me wonder if I'm of significant importance beyond a Chaplin. Father Mulcahy thought. Sometimes I have to wonder if I could take part in something that could require my presence, and that I could do more than to be a simple priest.
Father Mulcahy continued to frown at this for several minutes, as the others at the table continued to eat. Andrew, who had put down his magazine, was the first to notice the frown on the Father's face.
"Hey, Father? Is there something wrong?" Andrew queried. "You seem a little dispirited."
"Ah, no," the Father insisted he was fine. "I'm perfectly alright. I can assure you that I feel at ease."
"You sure about that Father," Hawkeye wondered. "Cause if you're trying to give last rites to the spirits that have departed, you'll have to wait until we get into O.R."
"And besides, you look like you have a long face," Trapper added. "And we don't need anymore of that. Not with Frank around."
"Oh shut your face," Frank spat.
"Not to mention he doesn't have a chin," Hawkeye remarked dryly.
"Yeah Father," Henry spoke up. "If there's ever anything bothering you, feel free to stop by my ol' office. I should be available, except for the times when I'm not available."
"Well, that is considerate of you Colonel," Father Mulcahy remarked. "But I should be fine. Thanks for your concern."
"I have to say that as the Chaplin, Father Mulcahy has plenty on his hands," Margaret said. "And I think that we shouldn't take him for granted."
"I have to agree with that," Andrew told her before facing Radar. "What do you think, Radar?"
Radar looked towards Andrew, and he was about to say something. But before he could, he heard the sound of choppers approaching the compound. And he knew what that meant.
"Uh oh. Choppers," Radar said. "We got choppers! Wounded in the compounded!"
It was then an announcement on the P.A. system that spoke up about this.
"ATTENTION, ALL PERSONNEL! WE GOT WOUNDED IN THE COMPOUND, ARRIVING BY CHOPPERS! TIME TO GET TO TRIAGE, SCRUBBED UP, AND GO STRAIGHT INTO OR, ON THE DOUBLE!"
"Well, here we go again," Andrew sighed. "We all know the drill."
"That's just how this war works," Hawkeye retorted. "The wounded that we get is usually shipped straight from the front."
"That's the war for you," Trapper snorted. "These constant casualties are the reason why we're stuck in this hell hole. But on the other hand, this might do some good for Frank's war bonds. Isn't that right Frank?"
"How about you mind your 'own' beeswax," Frank snapped.
"Welp looks like another day on the job. Better get ready, we got a full house of casualties," Henry sighed. "It's the same old, same old. Come on, let's move it along people."
"Yeah. Let's get this done and over with," Andrew stood up along with the others. "Come on Margaret, let's get ready for meatball surgery."
"I'm with you there Andrew," she moaned. "Let's see what type of casualties have arrived for us this time."
"Anything I can do to help out?" Father Mulcahy asked.
"Yes Father," Hawkeye suggested. "Why don't you perform those last rites on the patient while we work on saving more lives. Maybe if we're lucky, we won't get any fatalities at all."
"And that's if we're lucky, which our chances are very low there," Trapper snorted.
"Right," Father Mulcahy sighed as they all left the mess tent to get ready for their session in OR.
It's just another session in the OR. Father Mulcahy thought. I certainly hope and pray to the Lord that I could do something imperative soon.
With that in mind, he got ready for another session in OR to give patients their last rites like he usually does. This was going to be quite an experience for the Father...
IN THE OR - 13:08
After everyone got prepared to treat the wounded, the surgeons and nurses had gone into the operating room to work on performing surgery on the casualties. Needless to say, it was a busy day in the OR, just like every other day that casualties come into the M*A*S*H 4077.
Currently, Hawkeye was working on a patient who required some plasma, while Trapper was working on a patient who required some traction and was getting help from Henry who was at the same table as him. In addition, the soldier had some shrapnel in his chest, which he found out from an x-ray photo, so he had to take care of that too.
Andrew was working on a patient who had some loose artillery in the open wound. Finally, Frank was working on one of the more minor patients that came in. Margaret was giving some of the surgeons a hand with the instruments along with several other nurses in the operating room.
And then there was Father Mulcahy, who was also wearing that Scrub outfit with the purple ribbon draped around his neck, with both sides dangling on both shoulders. He was observing the patients, seeing which one of them needed to be given their last rites and prayers.
Aside from that, he was also checking out what each surgeon was doing to the patient that they were operating on individually, with a few exceptions. After a few moments, Father Mulcahy decided to check up on the patient that Hawkeye was working on.
"Everything okay here, Captain Pierce?" Father Mulcahy queried, getting his attention.
"Oh. Well, Father, this patient is suffering from trauma, as well as some minor shock," Hawkeye answered. "I have to apply some plasma into this one. But it's nothing I can't handle."
"I see," Father Mulcahy seemed amused by this. "Anything I can do to help out."
"Sure. You can pray that this soldier gets to live another day. If we're lucky, he won't be sent to the front and he will get away from this crummy war," Hawkeye instructed.
"Yeah," Father Mulcahy smiled sheepishly.
"Nurse, I'm gonna need some suction," Hawkeye requested from the nurse he was working with.
"Yes doctor," the nurse obliged and gave him the suction. "Suction."
As Hawkeye decided to use the suction, Father Mulcahy moved on to see what Trapper and Henry were doing with their patient. They took a second glance to see that the priest was looking at them.
"Hey, Father. Getting a little carried away by some of the wounded, huh?" Trapper queried casually.
"Uh, you could say that," the Father replied. "What's wrong with this one, McIntyre?"
"Well Father, this kid has a fractured ankle on his left leg, as well as a piece of shrapnel in his chest," Trapper told him calmly. "I'm cutting into his chest to remove the shrapnel, while Henry gives the patient some traction in his left ankle."
"Must be pretty intense, isn't it," the Father commented.
"Yes, sirree, Father," Henry was applying traction to the ankle. "But it ain't something we haven't seen before. It's all taken care of. You can say that it should be hunky-dory."
"I see. Would you like me to give my prayers to this patient too?"
"Yes, Father. He's gonna need all the prayers he can get," Trapper grunted. "These patients get into the worst circumstances thanks to this stupid war. So praying might ease the tension a bit. And that's if we're lucky at all."
"Yeah," Henry decided to give a more simple suggestion. "Just leave a prayer, and I'll be sure that he gets it."
"I had a feeling that you'd suggest that," said Father Mulcahy.
"I must say, Father, you are pretty curious by how we're doing today," Andrew spoke up, getting the priest's attention. "Is there a special occasion?"
"Ah no. No special occasion at all Major," Father Mulcahy insisted. "I'm just curious is all."
"I see," Andrew seemed amused by this as he continued to get the artillery particles out of his patient. "In any case, being curious by what we're doing isn't a bad thing at all."
"Just remember Father, sometimes curiosity can kill the cat," Hawkeye spoke up.
"Or in this case, it might kill a couple of the patients if you aren't careful," Trapper added a somewhat cynical comment.
"Ignoring their comments Father, some of what we're doing is pretty imperative to the surgical procedure," Andrew got his attention again. "For instance, what I'm doing with this patient is trying to extract some artillery particles from this man's wound. If you ask me, the forceps are the best tool for the job. Though, that's just me."
"That is pretty...impressive, Major Peterson," the Father said sheepishly.
"Well, I'm flattered by that comment, but I'm not that impressive," Andrew said in a modest tone. "But I do appreciate the compliments. Thanks."
"Can I do something in any way to assist?"
"Sure Father. You can give this man his last rites," Andrew suggested. "Or you can pray that he'll make it through this. It's up to you."
"I suppose I could go with prays," Father Mulcahy decided.
"Fair enough," Andrew shrugged as he allowed the Father to do what he had to. "Hey, Frank? How are you holding up?"
"Huh?" Frank looked up for a minute when he heard his name being called.
"What's the matter, Frank," Hawkeye decided to tease him. "Did you lose something in that guy's wound again?"
"Probably lost his watch given to him from his mother," Trapper commented dryly. "Or maybe it's his wedding ring from his wife."
"You two better stuff it right now," Frank howled angrily at them.
"Cut it out you two," Andrew chastised them before facing Frank again. "Anyway, how is your patient going? Frank?"
"Well, if you must know, there is something wrong with this soldier's colon," Frank said reluctantly.
"Is it by any chance from colon anastomosis," Andrew wondered. "If that's the case, you have to exteriorize it before removing it."
"What does it look like I'm doing?" Frank queried in irritation.
"Trying to get him to develop peritonitis," Hawkeye deadpanned. "Which is very easy for you to do since your a sloppy surgeon."
"In that case, you need the right tool for the job," Trapper grabbed a pair of clamps. "Here you go."
Trapper tried to toss them towards Frank, but unfortunately, they hit the edge of the table and fell right onto the floor. It was clear that he did that on purpose. Frank was very displeased by this, and he decided to make his complaint to Henry.
"Colonel?! Did you see that?!" Frank wailed in aggravation.
"Yeah," Henry was rather indifferent by this as he continued to perform on his patient's ankle. "He's a great hitter. But he's got a lousy arm. Just like Pierce."
"I don't need your help, McIntyre. The same goes for you, Pierce." Frank scoffed.
"Colonel, McIntyre tried to throw a pair of clamps at Major Burns! I consider that abuse," Margaret complained to him. "Aren't you going to do something about it?"
"Yeah. After I'm done in surgery, I'll pick up the clamps, give them to the nearest nurse, have her scrub it up, and call it a day," Henry said dryly.
"Okay, let's forget that this ever happened," Andrew spoke up. "Provided that it doesn't happen again."
"It seems to me that there is a slight amount of conflict in OR," Father Mulcahy stated.
"If there's any conflict in here, it's from Frank," Hawkeye retorted. "He doesn't know the difference between surgical cutting and malpractice."
"I do too Pierce!" Frank snapped back as Margaret checked up on his patient.
"Why Frank," Margaret started, looking over Frank's shoulder. "Your exteriorizing the wound."
"Well, it's the least I could do, you know Margaret," Frank told her. "After all, he is an American soldier, and it will help with getting back onto his feet and head back to the front."
"Is that so," Margaret seemed amused by this.
"Yeah, I mean you wouldn't catch me dead doing this to a Korean soldier," Frank said shamelessly.
"There he goes again," Hawkeye retorted. "Frank 'Bigotry' Burns."
"Just the way we loathe him," Trapper added dryly.
"I'll have you two know that this'll also benefit my war bonds," Frank scoffed. "Besides, I could try a little exteriorizing every once in a while."
"This is your first time doing it, huh Frank?" Henry queried.
"Well I did it in my practice before when I was in Fort Wayne," Frank defended.
"As in malpractice," Hawkeye joked, getting himself and Trapper to chuckle.
"Uh, before another conflict comes up," Father Mulcahy decided to ease the tension before approaching Frank's patient. "Major Burns, mind if I give your patient last rites?"
"Oh. Well, sure Father," Frank said as he didn't stop him. "Go right on ahead. "Knock yourself out."
"Why Frank," Hawkeye gave him a look. "Your pretty neighborly letting the Father give your patient his last rites."
"He must be taking a page straight from his hypocritical oath," Trapper retorted.
"Now look here you fellas," Frank sneered. "I'll have you know that there's a Catholic who lives right across the street!"
"Oh right. Your neighborhood isn't restricted," Hawkeye rolled his eyes. "How could we have forgotten?"
"Now don't get smart with me, wisenheimer!" Frank bellowed.
"Alright Major," Father Mulcahy got his attention. "I'm all set."
"Right. Errrr...well thank you, Father," Frank said sheepishly as he allowed Father Mulcahy to walk away.
"Alright. That's enough of that," Andrew insisted, grabbing one of the artillery particles from his patient's wound. "Can we please just get back to doing surgery?"
"Andrew, you did a wonderful job with taking out that shrapnel," Margaret congratulated him while looking over his shoulder as to what he did.
"Thanks, Margaret. Now I just need to stop the bleeding," Andrew looked over to the head nurse. "Clamps?"
"Clamps," Margaret hands him the clamps to put into the wound to keep it from bleeding over.
"Now to wipe up the excess blood," Andrew gave his mot a pleading look. "Sponge?"
"Sponge," she handed him the sponge, which he used to wipe up the blood. "By the way, Andrew, should we make it 8 o'clock? Your tent or my tent?"
"Let's do my tent tonight dear," Andrew whispered sweetly.
"You got it darling," Margaret whispered back. "I love you, honey."
"I love you too, buttercup," he muttered back to her as they continued to work.
Nothing else was said from that moment on. Father Mulcahy kept looking over the patients, while Hawkeye and Trapper would give Frank looks, to which Frank would glare at them in exchange. Otherwise, Margaret aided Andrew with his patient, and Henry just minded his own business, not to mention patient. This was going to be a long session in OR...
IN COLONEL BLAKE'S OFFICE - 15:03
"Well, today was another busy day in OR," Henry poured himself a glass of bourbon as a means of unwinding from the session in OR. "I'm telling you Major, OR was quite a bit hectic for us."
"I get what you're saying," Andrew agreed as he was the only other person in Henry's office at the moment. "But at least we were successful with today's batch of casualties."
"I'll say," Henry took a sip of bourbon from his glass. "That's all that 'really' matters in this man's hospital. As long as we run a smooth shift in OR, everything should be hunky-dory."
"No doubt about that," Andrew remarked. "This is a perfect time for everyone to settle down."
"Yes, sirree, Bob," Henry held his glass up. "Want some bourbon Major?"
"No thanks. Maybe later," Andrew declined. "I can go without it for now."
"Suit yourself," Henry shrugged his shoulders before gulping bourbon from his glass.
"Yeah. I'm not sure what could be done right now," Andrew commented. "Pierce and McIntyre are either at the Swamp or the Officer's Club, intending to get themselves drunk after the session in OR."
"And who could blame them," Henry said.
"Frank is probably in the Swamp, doing who-knows-what," Andrew pointed out. "Though he's probably reading the latest edition of Stars and Stripes."
"Probably," Henry had nothing else to say about that.
"Margaret is in her tent, putting on her make-up and whatnot," Andrew said. "And Radar is in his office filling out some forms that might need to be signed later on."
"And I'm gonna have to be ready to sign those," Henry remarked.
"Yeah," Andrew sighed.
At that moment, the door to his office opened up, and entering was Father Mulcahy, as there was something that he needed to get off of his chest.
"Colonel Blake," Father Mulcahy started. "Are you in?"
"Why yes I am Father," Henry said. "And what can I do for you?"
"Listen, Colonel, I mean this in the most respectable, and pleasant manner," the Father started. "But there's something that's been bothering me that I need to get off my chest."
"Oh Father," Henry sighed. "Are you having trouble with coming up with a sermon?"
"Oh no sir," he shook his head. "It has nothing to do with my religious services. It's something a little more personal."
"Well Father, let's hear it," Henry encouraged. "If it's personal, then it can't be anything too serious. So, what is it?"
Father Mulcahy had to take a deep breath before revealing what he had to say to the Colonel.
"Sir, forgive me for putting this in a rather unpleasant manner," Father Mulcahy then revealed. "But I feel like a burden when I tell you that I feel inferior to the rest of the people stationed here."
"Why Father, what makes you feel like that," Henry seemed confused. "I mean you've done plenty of stuff in the ol four-oh-double-seven, what with your services, sermons, and giving the casualties their last rites when it's necessary."
"I know that Colonel. But I can't shake this feeling that I feel useless around here," Father Mulcahy told him.
"Ah Father," Andrew spoke up. "You aren't useless. I dunno what gave you that idea, but that's not true."
"I don't think you understand Major," the Father decided to elaborate. "The men around here don't need my words of comfort when they're safe and being taken care of. The men up there are in more need of comfort."
"Up there? You mean at the front?" Andrew queried.
"Exactly what I'm saying," the Chaplin confirmed. "They're wet and cold and facing bullets."
"Oh boy. Father, I never told you this before, seeing that it wasn't prezactly necessary around these parts," Henry stood up from his chair. "But you happen to have the toughest job in camp, and there's not much glory in it like there is for the surgeons and the nurses."
"I am aware of that sir," Father Mulcahy said calmly.
"But you're the one who 'really' holds things together," Henry finished up. "You should be proud."
"Colonel, with all due respect, and I never told you this before," the Father decided to reveal to him. "But I had a seminary teacher who was a chaplain in World War II. He was called Father Marty Gallagher, or as he was called, Boom Boom Gallagher."
"Alright Father, hold on a minute," Andrew intervened. "Now I know bits and pieces of World War II. I was in the army around that time. But wasn't Gallagher the one who was famous for the poker games he used to organize? Whenever the German artillery took a break?"
"The very same Major," Father Mulcahy confirmed.
"Welp, that's quite nifty Father," Henry smiled. "Wish I could've gotten a hold of him sooner since I am all for a good poker game."
"I'm aware of that too Colonel," the Father continued. "But Boom Boom also used to excite us with his stories about being right up front with the men, and that's where I want to be. Where I feel that I'll be useful."
"Uh, Father? I hope you realize that that was a different war," Andrew reminded him. "Line officers don't want chaplains up at the front. It's just another unarmed man they have to be responsible for."
"How could you be so sure of that Major Peterson?" Father Mulcahy had to ask.
"I have been to an Aid Station in Korea already, along with Pierce, Houlihan, and Klinger," Andrew informed him. "It's not pretty, and all it'll do to you is make you more vulnerable to enemy attacks. And trust me, at the front, shellfires and other strikes are far more common than they are at the 4077th."
"Peterson has a point, Father. You'd be better off staying here at the ol' 4077 than to be stuck in a Battalion Aid Station," Henry spoke up. "Besides, I recall saying that at the Company I Aid Station had their surgeon killed and had to send four personnel from this outfit there to fill in until the replacements arrive. To think that I was worried sick, knowing I sent my crew to the front. It wasn't prezactly my greatest decision."
"I remember that too Colonel, but what do I have to lose," Father Mulcahy wondered. "If anything, the wounded at the front might need their last rites more than those that are sent to this compound."
"Look Father, I'll tell you what," Henry decided to make a deal. "The next time something occurs at this man's outfit, I'll see what I can do about getting you to feel more useful."
"Well, it's not exactly what I hoped and prayed for," Father Mulcahy sighed. "But I guess it'll have to do. I really to pray to the Lord that I can be of some use to this compound though."
"As the Colonel said, we'll think of something. In the meantime, just take it easy," Andrew insisted. "All this pressure isn't doing you any good. So just relax for the time being."
"I suppose your right Major," Father Mulcahy wiped his glasses and sighed. "I really must thank you for having this discussion with me anyway. I gladly appreciate it."
"Anytime Father," Henry said.
"Well, I'll see myself out," the Father turned around to face the door. "I'll be seeing you."
"Yeah. See you around Father," Andrew gave his farewell as the Chaplin opened the door and walked out.
"Gee, he's 'definitely' feeling down with himself, ain't he Major," Henry walked back to his chair to sit down.
"I think he's being too hard on himself," Andrew shook his head. "I can understand why though, seeing that I'm too hard on myself too, especially when something goes wrong and I mess up on something."
"Yup. What I had in mind too," Henry said as the phone in Radar's office went off and the company clerk answered it. "Whatever we can come up with, I'm sure that the Father can be of some use."
"I agree," Andrew wiped his forehead. "We'll just have to wait and see."
At that moment, Radar poked his head into the office to give Henry the important news. "Sir? Phone call for you. From Battalion Aid Station."
"Well, what are you waiting for? Forward the called over-" Henry was cut off when the phone in his office started ringing. "...to me."
At that moment, Henry picked up the speaker and spoke into it. "Hello? M*A*S*H 4077. Lt. Colonel Henry Blake speaking. What can I do for you?"
The person on the other line spoke to Henry, which got him to react appropriately.
"I see. That bad, huh? In need of surgery? Look, I know you guys at the front can't perform surgery on him," Henry spoke into the phone. "Yes sir. Right away. I'll send a litter jeep right on over there right away. Alright. Yeah, okay. Okay doke, it'll be done in no time at all. Good. Welp, thanks for that. Your welcome, and goom-bye."
It was then Henry hung up the phone and called out to Radar who stepped into his office. "Hey, Radar? Do you think you can-"
"Grab a jeep, and head to Aid Station to get man needing surgery, and bring Igor along," Radar said at the same time as Henry. "Yes, Colonel."
It was then Radar walked out of the office and set things up for the trip down to the front, as Henry could relax, and Andrew was thinking.
"Hey Colonel, with Radar absent, do you want Klinger to fill in as the temporary company clerk?" Andrew queried.
"Why, yes, sirree. That ought to be a good suggestion," Henry then made a request. "Would you mind getting Klinger here on the double, to fill in for Radar until he gets back?"
"Yes, sir," Andrew gave him a salute as he left the office to go get Klinger, while Radar gets ready for the trip to the front.
What they didn't know was that Father Mulcahy overheard everything that was revealed in the office. There was a man whose life at the front was in trouble, and he depended on the person being sent to be picked up. This could allow him to show that a Chaplin can be just as useful as any other doctor or nurse in the compound.
Perhaps this could prove to everyone here that I can be put to some use to this M*A*S*H. Father Mulcahy thought. Forgive me Lord for going against orders and for doing what could be considered sacrilege to some, but there's a man in trouble, and I have to step up to do the right thing.
With a fairly determined look on his face, Father Mulcahy left Radar's office and decided to volunteer to go with Radar instead of Igor. This was going to be quite a drastic move he was making in the medical unit that he was stationed at...
Meanwhile, outside the OR building, Radar had gotten a jeep all signed out and ready to drive off. He was wearing an army helmet on his head for protection, as he also brought some medical supplies for the ride with Igor accompanying him. The company clerk was hoping to make this a quick and safe trip to the front.
"Come on, Igor. We gotta get rolling," Radar told him. "Sooner we get to the front and back, the better. Let's go."
"If you say so Radar," Igor shrugged as he approached the jeep with Radar.
"Halt. Not so fast," Father Mulcahy approached the jeep. "Igor, you stay here. I'll go with Radar."
"Okay," Igor shrugged again as he walked away.
"Father, are you crazy," Radar was shocked by this. "You gotta get permission. I only got orders for Igor and me."
"Well what's it gonna be," Igor grunted. "Am I going or am I staying?"
"You're staying Igor. I'll be responsible for this," Father Mulcahy insisted.
"Well, you outrank me," Igor moaned. "Then again, I only follow whatever orders I'm given. I'm only a private."
With that, Igor walked off and allowed Father Mulcahy to go with Radar to the front.
"Father? This isn't right," Radar protested.
"Don't worry. I'll be responsible, Radar," Father Mulcahy insisted. "There's a wounded man, and he needs a priest."
"You better take this helmet," Radar gave the Father a helmet to wear.
"Yeah," he took it and put it on his head. "This should be satisfactory."
"But Father, you're gonna get both of us in trouble," Radar warned him.
"I'm sure Colonel Blake doesn't mind one bit my son," Father Mulcahy told him.
"I mean we'll be killed," Radar elaborated. "We're goin' to the front. Lots of deaths and such."
"It shouldn't be too much of a problem. I've seen plenty of deaths here before," the Father told him. "And besides Radar, you play poker, right?"
"Not now, Father," Radar moaned.
"No, no, no, no. Let me rephrase that," the Father clarified it with him as they both got into the jeep. "A very wise priest once said, 'No matter how well you bluff, eventually you have to put your cards on the table.'"
"I can't argue with that," Radar remarked as he started the engine. "'Cause I don't know what you're talking about."
"That's perfectly alright Radar," Father Mulcahy insisted. "Okay, take it away."
"Oh, fine. Alright," Radar sighed. "But if anybody asks, I'm completely ignorant. Understood Father?"
"You have my word," Father Mulcahy promised. "Now let's get this done, and pray that we make it back before this man's life perishes since it's at stake."
I'm gonna regret this. Radar thought as he drove the jeep out of the 4077th. Let's hope that this'll be over quickly 'fore something happens.
Without another word, Radar drove the jeep to the front with Father Mulcahy accompanying him for the trip. They had no idea what they were going to be in for once they make it there...
DOWN AT THE BATTALION AID STATION - 16:01
It took a little bit, but Radar and Father Mulcahy made it to the battalion aid station that they had to stop at. They approached the sergeant who had the soldier who was wounded and needed to be escorted to the 4077th to be treated in OR.
As Radar was helping a corpsman get the patient on the stretch onto the back of the jeep, Mulcahy had to take a look around his surroundings. So this is what an aid station looks like up close. He had no idea just how devastating it was at the front, especially with all the explosions and shellfires that were going off nearby.
"Alright. Easy now," Radar instructed as they got the soldier on the stretcher onto the back of the jeep. "That's good. Okay."
"Yeah," the sergeant said to Father Mulcahy. "Just sign here."
"Yeah," Mulcahy complied as he signed the form as instructed.
"You know, you guys are lifesavers," the sergeant remarked as the Father filled it out. "I don't know how long he'd last without surgery."
"Yeah," Mulcahy inspected the chest wound up close. "That's a bad chest wound."
Another explosion was heard in the distance as the sergeant saw what the Father was doing.
"No use, Padre," he shook his head. "Every once in a while, the Chinese let us know that they invented gunpowder."
"Oh my Lord," Mulcahy had to query. "How in heaven's name do you ever get used to it?"
"You get used to never getting used to it," the sergeant answered. "Being stationed near the front isn't all that great, that's for sure."
"I can see that," Mulcahy murmured. "I wish he were conscious. I'd like to offer some comfort."
"Believe me, being unconscious is as comfortable as you can get up here, Padre." The sergeant told him honestly.
"Well sir, I wouldn't know. I've never been to an aid station. But four members of the 4077 were once positioned at I-Company Battalion Aid Station. And thank God that they made it back safely," Mulcahy admitted.
"I see," the sergeant mused. "Well there are plenty of aid stations here at the front, so plenty of actions has to be taken at all of these aid stations."
"Yes. Uh, that makes sense," the Father said. "The four members of the 4077 sent to the I-Company were Captain Pierce, Major Houlihan, Major Peterson, and Corporal Klinger. They needed a chest cutter, a second surgeon, a scrub nurse, and a corpsman."
"I see. Sure wish we had that kind of help over here when we need it," the sergeant remarked. "It's also a surprise to see a Chaplin sent to the front to handle this task. But then again, I'm not catholic."
"Believe me, son, it's worth going to church every Sunday," Mulcahy remarked. "Anyway, we best be on our way."
"Yeah. From the looks of it, the action is getting worse," the sergeant instructed as another explosion was heard. "And the way things look now, it isn't going to let up anytime soon."
"Right. Radar, we'd better get underway," Mulcahy instructed. "This man needs attention."
"Right," Radar nodded. "Let's head back 'fore they find you missing."
"Or before this guy dies before I give him his last rites," the Father proclaimed. "Sir, it was nice doing this for you."
"And it was my pleasure to have a priest help out," the sergeant admitted. "You know, I wish that we'd have more priests stop by our station."
"That would be a blessing if more priests could follow a proper example," Father Mulcahy stated as he and Radar got into the jeep. "We best be heading back. Pray to the Lord that we'll make it back safely."
"With pleasure Padre," the sergeant waved. "Good luck with getting back to the 4077th you two."
"Thanks a bunch," Father Mulcahy got buckled into his seat. "Ready to head back, Radar?"
"Roger Father," Radar started up the engine. "Let's roll."
Father Mulcahy didn't say another word as Radar drove the jeep out of the aid station and they were heading back to the 4077, intending to get this soldier over there and operated on in the OR. The Chaplin was going to be in for a surprise along with Radar while they are heading back there. And it involved the soldier that was wounded in the back of the jeep...
OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD OF SOUTH KOREA - 16:44
Quite some time had gone by since they left the aid station. And Father Mulcahy had occasionally looked behind to see how the soldier was doing, all while Radar was driving. Radar felt the strong need to check from the Father to see how things were going for the soldier.
"How's he doing, Father?" Radar asked.
"He seems okay," Mulcahy told him before saying something else. "Radar, I want to thank you for bringing me along on this. I needed the experience."
"That's okay, Father," Radar understood his reason for wanting to do this. "Sometimes it's more important to be nice to people than to worry about the rules, you know?"
"I know Radar," the Father said. "When the situation calls for it, sometimes even thy Lord needs to bend the rules a bit to do the right thing."
"Yeah," Radar remembered something that he decided to share with Father Mulcahy. "Geez, I remember once in school, we were having this test, you know, and there was this boy Leonard Gerst. He wanted to, you know, copy off of me."
"Ah," Mulcahy seemed amused. "Pray do tell me for asking, but what did Leonard Gerst do exactly?"
"Well Father," Radar answered him truthfully. "I knew his mother would beat him up, uh, if he flunked the test, so I let him copy off mine."
"That was a very nice thing to do, Radar." Father Mulcahy admitted.
"Also, he gave me $3.00," Radar confessed before he started laughing with the Father.
"Why Radar, he could've done that for some simple jocularity," Father Mulcahy chuckled.
"Maybe. But I'm not gonna think of it," Radar sighed. "You think he's gonna make it."
"I dunno for sure. But I do know one thing," Mulcahy remarked. "We best hope and pray to God that he'll make it by the time we reach the 4077."
"Good idea Father," Radar nodded as he kept driving.
Not another word was said for the next few minutes or so as they kept riding down the road. They had to wonder how things will turn out for them from here on. They could only continue back to the compound and hope for the best outcome...
Afterwards, the moment they heard and saw another explosion take place behind them, Father Mulcahy had heard the soldier coughing. It's as if he was choking on something, and it got the Father to act out immediately.
"Radar!" Mulcahy informed him. "Radar, pull over!"
"Huh?" Radar was pretty confused by this.
"Stop the jeep! He's choking!" The Father informed him. "There's something wrong! Oh, God, pull over!"
"I am. Wait a minute!" Radar tried to find a safe spot to pull over while avoiding the explosions taking place. "Where?"
"This'll do," Father Mulcahy told him as he got out of the jeep and rushed over to the soldier who was choking, with Radar following behind him. "What's the matter?"
"Help me," the soldier uttered in a hoarse tone.
"Good heavens. Help me to clear his throat," Mulcahy instructed Radar to help out.
"Ooh!" Radar grunted as they tried to clear his throat.
Sadly, it did little to help him, as the soldier was gasping hoarsely for breath, which didn't look good for them.
"It isn't working," Mulcahy proclaimed.
"Well, maybe there's something stuck down there, Father." Radar proclaimed with a possible theory.
As the soldier started choking again, the Chaplin checked the inside of his mouth and noticed that something was wrong.
"His tongue is swollen," Mulcahy revealed. "It's blocking the passage."
"Oh! He's not breathing!" Radar was on the verge of panicking. "He's not breathing at all!"
"Radar, call the base," Father Mulcahy instructed with the hope of getting Radar to simmer down. "Get one of the doctors."
"Right," Radar went over to get the pouch with the speaker in it, brought it out, and attempted to get a hold of someone. "Hi. This is the litter jeep, M*A*S*H 4077! Litter jeep calling M*A*S*H 4077! Come in! Come in, anybody!"
Meanwhile, at the 4077th, Klinger had gotten the call, which he answered immediately.
"I'm not just anybody, but I'll talk. What is it?" Klinger's voice was heard on the speaker, to which Radar knew who it was.
"Uh, Klinger, it's Radar," Radar informed him. "Listen, we're in trouble here. Get me a doctor real quick."
"Gotcha," Klinger said as he rushed over to the walkway that led to Post-Op and hollered out. "Captain Pierce, McIntyre, Colonel Blake, Major Peterson, emergency!"
"What? What?" Henry wondered as he, Hawkeye, Trapper, and Andrew were wondering what was going on.
"The radio, sir," Klinger answered. "It's Radar."
"Well, don't just stand there. Put it on the speaker," Andrew demanded, which Klinger went to do right away.
"M*A*S*H 4077 to litter jeep," Henry spoke into it once it was on the speaker. "What's the problem, Radar?"
"The guy we're bringing back can't breathe," Radar wasted no time answering. "Father Mulcahy says his tongue is swollen up."
"Hold on a moment," Andrew spoke into it. "What's Father Mulcahy doing there?"
It was then Father Mulcahy took the speaker from Radar and spoke into it.
"This is Father Mulcahy," he yelled. "I know I'm not supposed to be here, but we've got a man in bad trouble. He needs help!"
It was now Hawkeye's turn to speak into the speaker as he had to ask the all-important question.
"Hold on a minute," Hawkeye then asked. "Father, where's the man wounded?"
"Well, in the chest, Hawkeye," Mulcahy answered honestly. "But I don't think that's the trouble. His tongue is swollen, and he can't breathe."
"Wait, hold your bladder for a minute you two," Henry then asked. "Is he getting any air at all?"
"No, sir. Not much." Father Mulcahy told them.
"Hardly any at all," Radar spoke up after him.
"Definitely tracheotomy," Trapper remarked.
"Right," Andrew said. "Guess they're gonna have to do the procedure."
"I got the instructions on paper right in my desk," Henry admitted. "I'll go get them."
"Hold up Henry, you better let me handle this," Hawkeye insisted. "We don't want another instance like the whole mishap with the CIA missile."
"Or worse, the surgery could lead them right into downtown Berlin," Trapper retorted dryly.
"Well fine Pierce. Go on and tell them," Henry relented as Hawkeye spoke into the speaker again.
"Father, Radar, listen carefully," Hawkeye started. "You only have a couple of minutes. One of you is gonna have to cut a small hole
in the man's throat to let air in."
"You mean cut like a doctor?" Radar asked worriedly.
"We'll give you step-by-step instructions," Hawkeye added.
"I'm no good at step-by-step," Radar told Father Mulcahy as he gave him the speaker. "You do it."
"Hawkeye, do you think we can?" Mulcahy had to ask with uncertainty.
"If you don't, the man's dead!" Hawkeye yelled.
"Oh, very well," Mulcahy was willing to take a chance as the soldier started choking again. "We're ready."
"Alright Father, here we go," Hawkeye started. "First you need something to cut with, a sharp knife."
"Sharp knife," Radar repeated into the speaker.
"You have a first-aid kit," Hawkeye informed them. "See if there's anything sharp in there you can use."
With that, Radar grabbed the first-aid kit from the back seat while the soldier was heard groaning. He started to dig into it.
"Uh, let's see. Aw, geez, there's nothing in here but these, uh, funny little scissors they gave us in kindergarten," Radar said as he had the scissors in his hand. "Why can't they keep these things complete?"
"Don't you have anything else?" Hawkeye asked.
"I've got my Tom Mix pocketknife," Mulcahy took out the pocketknife in question.
"Your what?" Hawkeye was confused by that.
"Tom Mix was an old radio show," the Chaplin informed him. "It's very sharp."
"Okay, fine. That's fine," Hawkeye didn't argue with that as he continued. "Look, you need a small tube. When you make the hole, you're gonna put the tube in, and the man will breathe through that."
"A tube?" Father Mulcahy queried.
"Part of a syringe will do if there's one in the kit," Trapper spoke into the speaker.
"You could also use the top of a fountain pen. Just snip off one end." Henry told them afterwards.
"Is a pencil okay?" Radar wondered, having a pencil out just in case.
"No, it has to be something hollow," Hawkeye told them.
"Think!" Andrew yelled into the speaker, hoping they had something to use as a substitute.
"Wait! Wait!" Father Mulcahy remembered as he took out a bottle of eye drops from his pocket. "My bottle of eye drops that I've been using for my eyes."
"Eyedrops!" Radar repeated.
"The dropper is plastic," Mulcahy informed them. "I'll just pull the cap off."
"Okay, that's kinda small, but that'll do," Hawkeye decided to move on as Mulcahy did what he had to and Radar cut the snip off with the scissors. "Now, look, Father, you're gonna have to work fast. In the first-aid kit, get the alcohol. Sterilize the knife and the man's neck."
Radar started to dig into the first-aid bag again to find the alcohol as Mulcahy looked over his head.
"Where's the alcohol? Where's the alcohol?" Radar wondered before he found the bottle and gave it to the Chaplin.
At that moment, Father Mulcahy unscrewed the cap and sterilized the knife and the man's neck as instructed.
"Oh, okay, okay," Radar said. "We're doing it."
"Okay. Father, if you're ready, look for a notch at the base of his throat," the Chief Surgeon instructed. "It's right where the chest starts. Right in the middle."
"Oh, boy," Radar uttered as Mulcahy found the area he was looking for.
"I got it!" Father Mulcahy declared.
"Good. Now take the knife and make an incision, a vertical incision through the skin about two inches long," Hawkeye told him. "There's gonna be a little blood, but that's okay."
"Oh. Oh, sure. Okay," Mulcahy obliged as he did just that. "Oh!"
The moment Radar took a look at what he was doing, he started to cringe in disgust.
"Oh, ick!" Radar grimaced as he spoke into the speaker after an explosion is heard and shown right behind them. "Oh, he did it! He did it!"
"Good, Father. Very good," Hawkeye continued. "Okay, now open that skin with your fingers, and keep cutting until you see a couple of little horizontal rings of tissue."
Father Mulcahy did just at that as he took a couple of moments to complete the step. Once he was done, he decided to let them know that he did it.
"I got it," Mulcahy remarked.
"He got it," Radar spoke into the speaker.
"Okay, now this is it, Father," said Hawkeye. "That tissue is fibrous. It's not gonna be easy to cut. Make an incision between the rings of tissue, and then stick the tube in the hole you made. The man will be breathing through that tube. Now work fast."
"I have to say a prayer first," Father Mulcahy insisted, being the Chaplin and all.
"He's gotta say a prayer first," Radar said.
"Make it a damn short one," Andrew told them.
"I can't think of any," Radar yelped.
"Better make it snappy," Henry informed them.
"Oh, my God," Mulcahy came up with one and started it. "Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts which we are about to receive from Thy bounty through Christ, our Lord. Amen."
"That's grace!" Radar yelled as another explosion was seen from behind them. "Aah!"
At that moment, Mulcahy did exactly what he was instructed to do while picking up the pace.
"Alright. Don't pay any attention to the blood," Hawkeye instructed. "Just get the tube in there."
And that's exactly what Father Mulcahy did, as some groaning noise was coming from the soldier while he did this. Eventually, once he got through with that, some gasping was coming from the soldier, which got their attention. Mulcahy was speechless at how he did it, so Radar spoke up for him.
"He's breathing!" Radar yelled as he put the speaker next to the soldier who was gasping right into it. "You hear that? He's breathing! He did it!"
"Okay," Hawkeye gave them some final instructions. "Tape the tube in place and pack some cotton around it to stop the bleeding."
"You did it!" Radar congratulated the priest as Mulcahy did what he needed to.
When the Father saw something unusual that he didn't recognize, he decided to inform Hawkeye about it.
"Oh, the skin and the tissue seem to close right in around the tube," Mulcahy told him.
"Father, that's exactly what's supposed to happen," Hawkeye informed him. "You did it!"
"You did it," Radar said.
"Amen." Father Mulcahy uttered.
"Amen," Radar repeated.
"That was great work Father," Henry spoke into the speaker. "Now just get that man back to the ol four-oh-double-seven as fast as you can."
"Right," Father Mulcahy said as they ended the call. "We did it Radar."
"Oh, boy, we did it," Radar sighed in relief.
Back at the 4077th, the call had ended, as Hawkeye, Trapper, Henry and Andrew were proud of what they did, as was Klinger.
"Well, what do you think of that?" Andrew asked confidentially.
"I think I'm a fool," Hawkeye remarked.
"What do ya mean by that Pierce?" Henry asked.
"I came all the way over to Korea to perform surgery," Hawkeye remarked. "I could have stayed at home and phoned it in."
"If we did that, then there would be no purpose to this war at all," Trapper retorted.
"And I'd be back at the Mayo Clinic in Bloomington," Henry added.
"In any case, I'm sure glad that we got that done and over with," Andrew stated. "Now we just have to wait for them to get back with the soldier so we can handle the rest."
"Welp, that settles that problem," Henry remarked as Frank came into the office from the back door.
"Yeah," Andrew sighed. "Next time that happens, I think I could perform surgery on the go."
"With the amount of luck you have Andrew, anything might be possible," Trapper shrugged.
"What's going on in here," Frank felt like asking.
"Nothing that you would understand Frank," Hawkeye told him.
"Understand what?" Frank queried in slight annoyance.
"Let's just say that you wouldn't be able to give step-by-step surgery instructions through phone," Trapper retorted. "You'd probably instruct them to use a scalpel on the arm."
"Or worse, you'll get someone to perform malpractice and botch up the operation," Hawkeye jeered mockingly.
"Oh, you guys," Frank scowled, not in any mood to deal with the captains.
As such, Frank turned around and walked out of the office, and left them alone again.
"Welp, whaddya say we get ready for when the soldier gets here," Henry suggested. "We need to get the OR ready to make sure the operation can get completed before he gets set up into Post-Op."
"Right," Andrew nodded. "Let's go."
With that, they all headed to OR to get things ready for the soldier who Father Mulcahy and Radar were getting back to the compound...
Speaking of whom, Father Mulcahy and Radar were ready to head back to the 4077. Of course, Radar was a little shaken up by what they achieved. Mulcahy was willing to get going before they get caught by the explosions taking place.
"Come on," Father Mulcahy told him. "I think I'd better drive."
"Okay," Radar muttered as Mulcahy escorted him into the passenger's seat.
"Radar, you alright?" Father Mulcahy asked in concern, seeing that there was something wrong with him.
"Oh, yeah. Sure. I'm just a little carsick," Radar looked at the steering wheel and felt like he was seeing double, as in, he saw two steering wheels. "What happened to the wheel?"
Before the Father could say anything, another explosion was heard right behind them, getting them to jump in fright.
"Oh!" Radar yelped worriedly. "Father, let's get outta here!"
"Very well, Radar," Father Mulcahy got behind the wheel and started the engine. "If you insist."
From there, Radar got relaxed as Father Mulcahy drove the jeep out of there and headed back to the 4077. He had just accomplished something that he never thought would be possible. He had to wonder if he was proud or surprised that he could even do it at all. It was quite a lot to take in.
One thing is for sure, he would never forget this experience. And neither would Radar. That much was a given...
IN THE OFFICER'S CLUB - 19:55
Later on that evening, the senior medical crew aside from Frank was in the Officer's Club with Father Mulcahy, as they still couldn't believe that the priest was capable of doing what he did.
Hawkeye and Trapper had martinis, Henry was having bourbon, and of course, Radar was having grape nehi. Meanwhile, Andrew had some simple vodka, and it wasn't much. And then there was Margaret, who was having a small glass of champagne.
They were all sitting at the same table that Father Mulcahy was sitting at. They were bringing up exactly what he did today.
"I just can't believe it, Father," Andrew spoke up first. "I can't believe that you were capable of doing that."
"Believe me, son, I didn't think I could do it either," Father Mulcahy admitted. "But I guess everyone has a natural gift bestowed upon them by the Lord. They just don't know it."
"If that's the case, then we should never let Frank know about that," Trapper retorted sarcastically. "He's terrible as a surgery as it is."
"Yup," Henry uttered, getting drunk by the bourbon. "The good ol' Father went against orders and went out to get this patient without my say so."
"That may be true Colonel," Mulcahy said. "But it was for a good cause."
"Amen to that Father," Andrew admitted.
"Seriously though Father," Hawkeye got his attention. "When I unwillingly signed up for this costume party, we made a deal. We the surgeons would save the bodies, and you would save the souls."
"Oh, my, well, you have a point Hawkeye," Father Mulcahy admitted. "I hope I didn't violate any union regulations."
"Let's get a second opinion," Andrew stated as he looked towards his lady. "What do you think Margaret?"
"Well, normally, it would be against regulations," Margaret admitted before sighing. "But if you've saved a man's life, something that the 4077 has a large reputation for achieving, I suppose this could be an exception."
"Well, uh, that's good Major, I guess," Father Mulcahy said sheepishly. "That does sound like a blessing."
"Speaking of blessing, there's something that I should inform you on Father," Andrew decided to give the news. "Thought you'd like to know your patient is doing just fine."
"We're all thinking of trading in our scalpels for Tom Mix pocketknives," Hawkeye added.
"Better not give Frank a pocketknife. He's a danger with sharp and pointy objects," Trapper joked dryly.
"Why don't we just take away the scalpel and not give him the Tom Mix pocketknife?" Hawkeye suggested.
"I'll drink to that," Trapper agreed.
"Here here," Radar uttered as he drank some more of his grape nehi. "Geez. Still can't believe I did that."
"Well Radar, it was bound to happen eventually," Andrew commented.
"Yes. But like this?" Radar remarked.
"Our Radar is growing up so fast," Hawkeye teased.
"Soon he'll grow to be 6 feet tall," Trapper joined in.
"Oh, guys. Come on." Radar grumbled.
"Anyway Father, you sure showed us how important you are to the 4077," Andrew admitted. "If you already weren't important with how you give last rites to the casualties here, then what you did today certainly showed us for sure."
"I must say, I'm quite flattered by the complimented Andrew," Father Mulcahy admitted. "God bless you, Major."
"Well, anytime Father," Andrew smiled modestly. "Really."
"Y'know something? I think it's great that we have a priest, who successfully performed a tracheotomy," Henry slurred. "While outside of the 4077 no less."
"That is greatly appreciated Colonel," Mulcahy admitted. "But we should all remember that it was Hawkeye who gave me the step-by-step instructions on how to do it. Not to mention Radar helped out with the procedure. I can thank God for getting me through that."
"Well, it was just a surgeon's duty to help save lives," Hawkeye admitted. "Even if it was through the telephone."
"The bottom line of all this is, Boom Boom or Father Marty Gallagher would be proud of you," Andrew told him.
"Believe me, my young son, I bet he would be too," Mulcahy stated. "And to think that at that moment, I was pretty terrified by the experience, and what those soldiers go through at the front. And yet, I still pulled through for that soldier, and did the right thing."
"That's all that matters Father," Andrew smiled encouragingly. "Congratulations."
"You know, I think this calls for a toast," Henry held up his glass while gargling. "To a priest who proves to be good with a Tom Mix pocketknife as he is with a crucifix. And for showing how important he is to the 4077."
"I'll drink to that," Hawkeye held his glass up.
"Me too," Trapper agreed.
"Here here," Andrew copied them.
"Cheers," Margaret remarked nonchalantly, doing the same thing.
"Uh, sure sirs. And ma'am," Radar held his bottle of grape nehi along with them.
As a result, they all finished up their drinks in unison as a toast to Father Mulcahy, for whom they were quite flattered by their gratitude and appreciation. This was truly a blessing to the catholic after all.
"Say, by the way," Andrew put his glass down. "Does anybody know what time it is?"
"Hmmm," Trapper checked his watch. "It's 8:00 pm."
"8:00 pm? Guess it's about time for Margaret and me to take our leave," Andrew turned to face his lady. "Right, dear?"
"Oh yes, darling. We have to get to your tent," Margaret said.
"Yes," Andrew agreed. "Shall we get g-"
Whatever Andrew had to say was left unfinished, since Margaret unexpectedly kissed Andrew right on the mouth, resulting in him melting within that kiss, which he returned of course. It lasted for a good 30 seconds or so. Afterwards, they separated, and Margaret gave him a promising look.
"That's just a preview for what you'll be in for when we get to your tent," Margaret gave him that flirtatious look. "I love you, honey."
"I love you too, buttercup," Andrew stood up. "Shall we get going?"
"After you," Margaret got up from her seat as they headed for the door.
The others watched until they walked out the door, without looking back. They didn't say a word about it for a couple of moments until Radar broke the ice.
"Wow," Radar muttered, drinking some more of his grape nehi. "I'll never get used to them kissing."
"Makes me look forward to wedding them when the time is right," Father Mulcahy admitted.
"You might wanna hold off until after the war is over," Hawkeye suggested.
"Unless of course, they want a wedding in the middle of the war," Trapper said in such a sarcastic manner. "Then they'd be overjoyed to have their wedding held with incoming wounded as guests."
"Yeah," Mulcahy smiled sheepishly. "Let's not think of that."
"I have to agree," Henry slurred. "For now, let's just enjoy our drinks and have a good one."
At that moment, Henry found himself passing out on the table, as he was out cold. The bourbon knocked him out unconscious. Hawkeye and Trapper found themselves laughing at this while Radar shook his head and Father Mulcahy sighed. Radar and Mulcahy worked on getting Henry to his tent for the evening. It seemed things turned out for the better with Father Mulcahy after all.
He did feel important to the 4077. And everything that happened today proved it. Regardless of that, the people stationed at the 4077 had to wonder if anything else would take place in the M*A*S*H 4077. Anything could happen, and all they could do for the moment is wait and see for themselves...
END OF CHAPTER 42...
Yeah. This chapter took a while for me to set up, due to the focus being put onto Father Mulcahy for a change. Still, I hope I did a good job of arranging this chapter, and I hope you all enjoyed it.
In addition to that, I have noticed the lack of details and information that involves the Korean War in this story, so the beginning of this chapter was mainly some facts included. Don't worry, some more Korean War contents will be included in this story later on. For now, that's the best that I could come up with. And I hope you all understand my intention.
Anyway, in the next chapter, the 4077th is forced to bug out of the area due to the news coming straight from HQ, regarding Chinese Communists invading the perimeter of which the M*A*S*H 4077 is located, and so everyone has to evacuate. How will this go for everyone there? Find out next time!
For now, you can leave a review with this chapter, only if you like. That's all I got to say about it.
Aside from that, that's all that I got. So until the next chapter, I hope you have all been taking care of yourselves. And with that said and done, thanks again for reading everyone!