Chapter 6

As the dark days of the winter continued, the medical personnel ran themselves ragged caring for sick prisoners and some of the guards. The drop of medical supplies helped, but the stock of penicillin was low and had to be carefully rationed.

The Allied land offensive stalled and no one knew when they would be liberated.

Pierce's cynical humor stalled with the fighting. He often felt like he was sleepwalking through the war. He heard the phrase one day at time so much that he felt like throttling the next person who repeated it.

One late afternoon in the middle of February, Hawkeye lost his temper. Looking back on it, he was surprised he didn't end up confined to quarters or demoted.

An explosion that literally rattled the camp startled the doctor. Hawkeye wondered if any fliers were shot down and rescued. He and Wilson had set up a good system. Wilson checked on any injuries and then, if necessary, Hawkeye would go down. This happened only once, and the doctor managed to get through his claustrophobia, feeling the effects hours later as he tried to release the tension in his jaw.

A prisoner opened the infirmary door, requesting help over in Barracks 2. A concerned Pierce left Wilson in charge of their patients. He followed the man into the hut.

"Who's hurt or sick?" he looked around. Residents were doing what they normally did. It couldn't be that bad, he thought. No one seemed in a panic.

"Carter." Newkirk pointed. "He burned himself on the stove if anyone asks." He winked.

Hawkeye frowned.

Carter sat at the common room table, holding his arm. Burns hurt like the devil and Hawkeye could tell the sergeant was holding back tears.

"Let's have a look." Hawkeye examined the burn. "That's 2nd degree. You're lucky this isn't 3rd degree." He began treating Carter. "How did you get this?" he asked, realizing that the stove was the defacto story in case any German had any questions. He couldn't figure out how the tech sergeant could hurt himself this way rescuing fliers, unless he fell into a fire. "Wait. Did you pull anyone out of a plane? Is anyone else injured?"

"Nope." Carter grimaced. "Timing was off on the explosives," he said in matter of fact tone, as if this were an everyday occurrence. "Oh, boy. I almost bought it."

"Not the first time." LeBeau shook his head.

"Well, sometimes our supplies aren't the best," Carter replied. As if that was a good explanation.

Hogan came out of the office. "How's he doing?"

"2nd degree. A week to three weeks to heal. Has to be kept covered."

Hawkeye finished and put his medical bag on the table "What did you blow up?"

"We blew up a bridge. Told you we did sabotage." Carter flexed his fingers.

Hawkeye took a deep breath. "I didn't sign up for this," he replied.

"No, of course you didn't." Hogan stepped forward.

A bridge. They blew up a bridge. Why? Hawkeye was afraid to ask. And then, to his horror, he realized that soldiers in convoys weren't the only ones crossing bridges. He began to feel hot under the collar, so to speak. "Did…Did…People can get killed! Civilians could have been killed!"

"Yes, mainly soldiers. We try to limit civilian casualties. In this case, we're trying to stymie the Germans wherever and whenever. Hope to shorten the war. You knew that," Hogan replied.

"So, you have had civilian casualties?"

"That's not what I said."

"But it happens! You don't have to do this!" Hawkeye shut up as soon as he saw Hogan's expression.

"What do you think happens on bombing runs?" Hogan finally asked.

Hawkeye had no good answer for that, so he closed his bag. "Come by once a day, Carter, to have the burn looked at." And without a word, he left the hut, forgetting to close the door behind him.

You could hear the proverbial pin drop in the barracks.

"Well, that didn't go well," Newkirk commented as he ran over and shut the door.

"Are you going to call him out, Colonel?" Kinch asked.

Hogan scratched his chin. "He was insubordinate." He began pacing the hut, a sign he was thinking something through. "I could confine him to the infirmary, except for medical duties. But then, Klink will want to know why. And so on…" He turned and made his way back to the table. "No. I'll let it go, this one time. I have a feeling he is mulling over his reaction and why he has a tendency to speak without thinking."

"I put my foot in my mouth," Hawkeye told Wilson a short while later. "Plus I left the hut so fast, I forgot to close the door."

After a brief explanation of the conversation, Wilson nodded. "Happens to the best of us. You're passionate. You're a pacifist. You hate weapons. You hate violence. You internalize everything. A lot of us had issues with this part of the job. Believe me; I think the men doing the sabotage feel the same."

"I thought Hogan would go after me. Not sure what the consequences would be. But, he didn't. And getting back to the sabotage. The Nazis do reprisals," Pierce reminded him.

"Colonel Hogan knows how to pick his battles. And yes, the Nazis do reprisals." Wilson paused. "This is why you went in the medical corps. You know people are getting killed and are killing. That's war. I hope you never get used to it."

Hawkeye took Wilson's words at heart, and fortunately, Hogan never brought up the outburst.

One sunny but still frigid day, Hawkeye met with Hogan and the Kommandant in the Kommandanteur. He was so tired and stressed, albeit a different kind of stress from the aid station, he didn't even flirt with Helga. She just offered the two a wan smile and continued with her filing.

The two Americans took their seats in front of Klink's desk and waited. The last time they met, Klink offered them tea and some biscuits. Today, nothing.

The trim Klink had dark circles under his eyes. So did Hogan. Both had lost some weight, although the American colonel took in more belt loops than the German. Fortunately, no one in Barracks 2 was sick and the Germans had not noticed Olsen's absence. The Outside Man was now permanently stationed at Schnitzer's farm. While there, he continued to search for food. There were plenty of downed fliers to take his place.

Hawkeye couldn't imagine what would happen if the Colonel got sick. But he put that thought aside. "You asked for a meeting, sir?"

"Yes." Klink steepled his hands and leaned forward. "We are expecting more prisoners shortly. We have more being sent here from points east."

Hogan leaned forward and asked, "And where do you propose we put them?"

"You'll have to make do. Use the rec hall and the mess hall. Double up. Figure it out."

Klink's attitude shocked Hawkeye. The Kommandant's mood kept getting worse. "How many are coming? And how are we supposed to care for them? We can barely care for the men here now."

"I have no idea of the numbers, Doctor. And as I said, you'll have to figure something out. Dismissed."

There were no arguments, and Hogan and Hawkeye left the office and stood in front of Helga's desk.

She closed a drawer and looked at them. "I know," was all she said.

"I know," Hogan repeated. He walked over to her, and whispered something in her ear.

She shook her head.

"Let me know if you change your mind," Hogan told her. "We will do what we can."

"Thank you for your offer, Colonel Hogan. But, I'll stay here where I'm needed. Besides, I won't leave my family."

Hogan smiled at her and then turned to Hawkeye. "Recruit as many healthy men as you can and start working on finding space."

"Yes, sir."

It was all hands on deck and the work began immediately. Hawkeye came back from rounds at various barracks and saw both prisoners and guards working together. He noticed Schultz giving orders to a group going into the rec hall. Newkirk, clipboard in hand and accompanied by a few engineers captured in the counteroffensive, was on a mission. Army enlisted mingled with RAF officers. Naval ensigns worked with American gunners. It was surreal.

Hogan walked up to Pierce. "What's happening with the barracks?"

"We're working on moving the current camp population. We have several sick barracks set up. Glad we now have a few extra medics. We will add more sick barracks if necessary. The rec hall will be used for healthy displaced men. Just wish we had enough wood to build bunks." Wood was too scarce. Civilians were burning whatever they could find. Fortunately, Olsen found some blankets. No one asked where, and he didn't volunteer any information.

"You're doing a good job." Hogan gave Pierce's shoulder a squeeze.

"Thank you, sir. 'These are the times that try men's souls,'" Hawkeye said as he gazed upon the flurry of activity.

"'The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of his country...'" Hogan replied, repeating another line from Thomas Paine's, "The Crisis."

Pierce nodded. "There were and are a lot of sunshine patriots. But, I don't believe there are any among the Allied contingent in this camp, Colonel. And some of the Germans," he added, thinking of Schultz and Helga.

"I agree, Hawkeye. I agree."

The camp was liberated, with no loss of life, on April 19th.

EPILOGUE:

A livid Hawkeye opened the door to the swamp so hard that it almost fell off its hinges. He stomped over to his cot, took off his boots and threw them across the room, fortunately missing his bunkmate, B.J. Hunnicutt, who had the misfortune of standing on the other side of the tent.

"Bad day at the office?" he asked. B.J. hadn't been at camp very long, but he and Hawkeye immediately bonded and now considered themselves close friends and confidantes. They also both had the mutual dislike—actually, hatred was a better word—of the other man sharing the space. Major Burns.

"I want to kill him." Hawkeye flopped on the cot and covered his eyes.

"That awful?" B.J. walked over to the still and poured Hawkeye a drink. The young captain didn't imbibe as he was going on duty in a few hours to cover the night shift. Hunnicutt felt bad about leaving Hawkeye alone in the tent. Maybe they'd be lucky and Burns would spend the night with Major Houlihan. "What did he do now?" he asked as he shook Hawkeye's shoulder. "Drink?"

Hawkeye sat up.

"Thanks." He took a sip. "I almost decked him. Good thing Kelly and Klinger were there holding me back. He's probably filing a complaint with Potter right now." He pushed hair out of his eyes. B.J. stood there, waiting patiently for Hawkeye to say what he needed to say.

"POW."

"Again?" B.J. asked.

"Chinese. This time he went too far. Slapped the guy. Wait. He always goes too far. I just can't take it anymore."

B.J. mulled this over. He had witnessed Hawkeye's passion for his patients, no matter which side they were on. He felt the same, as did most of the medical personnel in the 4077th. They did their jobs without judgment. Although there were exceptions. But, Hawkeye was a force of his own.

"He should be thrown in jail for violating the Hippocratic Oath. And for being a bad doctor."

B.J. sat down on his cot and faced Hawkeye. "Have you talked this over with Mulcahy?"

"We've had discussions. He knows my personality. Can't change what I am."

"It builds up." There's got to be something more to this, B.J. thought. Why not ask? "Hawk. If I'm overstepping here just let me know and the subject is closed. The POWs. I don't condone any abuse, of course. But, of all the personnel here, you seem to have a knack for taking certain things personally."

Hawkeye drained his glass and put it aside. BJ's comment angered him and he felt the cortisol run through his system. And then he thought back to something. A man he admired accepted his insubordination and never mentioned it again. He then realized he owed B.J. the same.

"You're right." He leaned over, placing his elbows on his knees. "You know I was in the last war, right?"

"Yeah, you told me right after we first met," B.J. replied. "You were at a forward aid station. I can't believe they drafted you again."

"I wasn't drafted the first time," Hawkeye said. "I volunteered. Right after accelerated med school. I don't tell many that. In fact, I don't even really discuss it."

"Clearly." B.J. smiled. "Go on."

"What no one else knows is that I got captured when the station was overrun in the counteroffensive. That was in January. I spent the next four months in a POW camp."

That was the last thing B.J. expected to hear. And he was speechless. But, Hawkeye's confession explained a lot. Finally he found his voice. "Does Potter know?"

Hawkeye shook his head. "Blake didn't know either. It's not in my file."

"Why?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you." Hawkeye started to laugh, which felt good. Getting this burden off his chest definitely helped.

A clearly confused B.J. began to laugh as well. After he stopped, he said, "Your secret is safe with me, Hawk. I don't know why it's a secret and what else is going on, but as soon as this conversation is over, I'll forget it. Wait. Does Flagg…?"

"No. And neither does Freedman."

"Fair enough. And listen, buddy. I'll always back you up in the hospital. You know that." He held out his hand, and the two shook on it.

After B.J. left, Hawkeye was beyond happy that Frank never showed up that evening. He took out a piece of paper.

Dear Dad,

So, this new guy, B.J., is a good man. Had a great talk with him today. Got some things off my chest, which I won't go into here, but I think you know. I miss Trapper, but I'm glad he's home safe. Thanks for speaking with him over the phone.

We all miss Henry. I hate this…

I'm sorry Uncle Sam got me again, Dad. I know the first time was my choice. But, there's only so much I can do. Lots of these kids didn't have powerful congressmen to help them. So why should I be any different? But, thanks again for trying.

Hawkeye had to be careful here. He didn't want someone like Flagg coming after him. He crossed out the last line.

I'll be careful, Dad. At least I'm saving lives.

Your son,

Hawkeye.

A/N: Thank you for reading. I wanted to post this all at once as I'm going on a long-awaited vacation. Please let me know if you see any issues-typos, sentences that need fixing, factual errors, etc, and I'll fix those when I return.

MASH was a big part of my life. The show started in 1972, when I was in 8th grade, and the final episode aired when I was a recent college graduate (age 23) working in New York City. The last episode, which aired in February, 1983, is still the most watched TV series finale of all time. (105 million viewers)