Radar woke with a start, peering around the darkness. Something was amiss. Even with his perception of knowing things before they happened, he wasn't sure

what was wrong. But the feeling in his chest was stronger than ever.

He slipped on his robe and put on his glasses, which didn't do much good, since the room was pitch black. And when he squinted to make out the time on his

watch, he realized that it was much too late (or early, rather) for choppers.

In his bed, he tried to go back to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come. Tossing and turning began to wear him out, until he was completely awake with little chance of

getting a good night's rest.

Perhaps if he walked around. He rose to his feet and put on his glasses once more. But it only took seconds for him to realize what was wrong. Something was

missing. Or rather, someone.

Panic rose within him. It was the same kind of panic that he felt when he heard choppers or saw wounded soldiers; that feeling that was so horrible that it made

his chest ache.

Something-he wasn't sure what-made him look over at his bed where his blanket lay in a crumpled ball on top of crumpled sheets and an even more crumpled

pillow case. Slowly he moved toward the bed and pushed the blanket aside.

Just as he feared, it wasn't there.

His heart beat a little faster and he began to feel sick. Frantically he tossed the blanket, sheets and pillowcase onto the floor, but there was no sign of it

anywhere. Suddenly he was so upset that he wanted to cry.

For the first time since he could remember, he felt completely helpless and had no idea what to do . He stood by his bed, wondering if he should seek out one of

the doctors regarding the searing pain in his chest. But how could he think about that when there was something much worse?

Before he could make a decision, an unknown force carried him out of the building and through the darkness and the maze of tents.

He considered stopping at the Swamp, but Hawkeye and Trapper would be furious if they were awakened for any reason, even something as serious as this. He

certainly couldn't get help from Father Mulcahy. Oh, he was sure that the Father would be more than happy to help him, but doing so meant explaining and

Radar didn't feel like explaining anything at the moment. Major Houlihan would be livid, as she always was when he unintentionally scared her half to death, no

matter how quietly he crept into her tent. The major certainly was a sound sleeper. For that he envied her.

He let out a breath and stood by the door of yet another tent. He should just go back to his bunk and deal with it in the morning. But he knew that he wouldn't

be able to sleep. Without giving it another thought, he knocked on the door and waited. When no one answered, he considered leaving, but before he knew hat

was happening, he knocked even harder.

"WHAT?"

Radar shuddered at the outburst. Slowly he opened the door and stepped inside. "Um, Colonel Potter?"

The light came on, brightening the tent. Colonel Potter sat up in bed and put on his glasses. "Radar? Is that you?"

"Yes, sir. I-."

"What is it? Don't tell me that Evac is sending us more wounded at this time of night! Dad blasted horn feathers! Just when I was getting a good night's sleep!"

"No, it's nothing like that."

"Then what is it? And it better be good! I was having the best dream I've ever had! I was on a beautiful black stallion, running through the village countryside

and-."

"It sounds lovely, sir."

"It sure was, but it's gone now and I'll never get it back."

"I'm sorry to bother you, sir. But it's rather important."

Colonel Potter shot out of bed and pulled on his robe. "Well son, why didn't you say so? Is someone hurt? Or sick? Is Mildred on the phone? Or my son? Is

everyone okay?"

Radar wanted to sink into the ground. Oh boy, he'd never hear the end of this.