Part 3
"You want a what?" Henry asked in disbelief.
Frank, as calmly as he could, repeated what he said. "I want a transfer."
"Frank, the last time you asked me for a transfer to another unit, you had your arm in a cast with a hook sticking out of it. What now?"
Frank thought to himself about what had driven him to ask for a transfer. He originally thought that Margaret would turn to see sense and would come crawling back to him, where she would have been immediately forgiven. Instead, she treated him like a stranger.
Frank, sensing defeat, decided that he had two options. He could either carry on by himself, or he could ask to be transferred. He was not about to tell Henry the reason for his choice, because he thought Henry would tell Hawkeye and Trapper without delay.
"I don't have to give any reasoning," Frank this made known.
"No, that's true. But I need you to stay until McIntyre is fit to work. I'm down by one surgeon as it is, and if I lose another without replacement then it'll jeopardise the patients."
"I understand," Frank agreed. "But as soon as he is ready, I want out."
"You're not kidding around," Henry murmured. "All right, Burns. I'm not happy about it, but I'll get it sorted."
"Thank you, sir," Frank saluted and left.
Henry sighed. Frank leaving? He wondered what could have brought this on. "Ra…"
"Transfer papers, sir," Radar interrupted, producing himself and the papers to Henry, who jumped out of his skin.
"Mail call!" It was some days later, and Radar was being mauled as people grabbed for their letters and packages from home. The assortment of mail contained a letter from Hawkeye's father, some things sent by Trapper's in-laws, and parcels from the Tabasco Film Company.
Henry decided to hold a showing in his office that afternoon, as Trapper was becoming restless, according to Hawkeye. He helped Trapper in Henry's office, and found him two chairs; one for him to sit on and one to prop his broken leg on.
Whilst Henry set the film up, he made small conversation with the two doctors. "You guys get anything in mail call today?"
"Got a letter from Dad," Hawkeye told him. "He's okay. He also had a message for Trapper, telling him to call a cab next time he thinks about taking a jeep," he added, chucking as he did so.
Henry laughed before Trapper spoke. "My mother-in-law, Louise's mother, she sent me some stuff. Some of the girls' things, like Becky's favourite dress, and Kathy's baby blanket. They were on the washing line at the time… she sent me some photos too."
It was clear to both Hawkeye and Henry that Trapper had still not fully come to terms with the loss of his wife and two daughters, but he was making good progress.
Henry finished preparing the film, and then announced, "Gentlemen, the film you are about to see was supplied by the Tabasco Film Company…"
"Get on with it, Henry," Hawkeye interrupted. "You're not saying grace for Thanksgiving dinner."
"Okay, okay," Henry muttered as he started the film and sat down.
The film ended, and the three men felt better then they had before it. The heavy atmosphere had been replaced by a light air.
As they discussed the picture, Henry's telephone rang. "4077th M*A*S*H, Colonel Blake at your service," he greeted as Hawkeye and Trapper laughed at him. "Yes… yeah, that's right… not yet, but we're still looking… he's up and recovering well… that's correct… finalised? Good, okay, I'll tell him. Thank you, good day." Henry replaced the receiver.
"Good news?" Hawkeye asked. "Has the war ended? They want me back home?"
"Keep hoping," Henry replied cynically. "Radar!"
Radar hurried. "Yes sir? Was the film good?"
"Yeah, great, thanks. Tell Major Burns to report to my office."
"Yes sir," Radar replied, trundling out of the office.
"What's the big secret?" Trapper asked.
"Well," Henry began. "I was going to keep a lid on it until now, when it's all been finalised. Frank is being transferred."
Hawkeye broke the moment of shock. "For real?"
"It is now. There's no turning back."
"But why?" Trapper asked. Hawkeye had no need to enquire, as he already knew. He figured that Frank and Margaret must have come to blows, and so Frank gave up and waved the white flag. Trapper, like the rest of the camp, had not realised that Hawkeye and Margaret had discussed it.
"He didn't say. Personally, I think that Major Houlihan is involved somewhere along the lines."
Hawkeye chose that moment to keep quiet, and was thankful of his judgement as Frank walked in.
"You wanted to see me, sir?" Frank asked, ignoring Hawkeye and Trapper.
"Yes, Frank. I just got a call, saying that everything is ready for your transfer. You'll be permitted to go as soon as Trapper is fit to work."
"When will that be?" Frank persisted. He could only take so much of the war being isolated.
"Well, Pierce, you're his physician. What do you think?" Henry asked.
"I'd give him three days," Hawkeye concluded. "Only part time duties, though. I know he has a broken leg, but unless we get a deluge of wounded then we'll be able to cope."
"There you go, Frank. I'll organise it from here." Henry paused. "You know, Frank, we may not be the sanest, strictest, most regular army place in the war, but I didn't think it would come to this."
Frank looked touched for a moment, before frowning. "Well, it wouldn't have come to this if it weren't for those two!"
Hawkeye feigned shock. "Frank! After all we've done for you, how could you say that?"
"Quiet, Pierce. Frank, you're dismissed."
As Frank turned and left, Henry turned to Hawkeye. "Are you sure McIntyre will be fit to work? I mean, his leg is still broken, and I know how much you would love to get rid of Frank…"
Hawkeye held up his hand to stop Henry. "Okay, I know I am low, but I'm not that low. He's making a good recovery, and it won't be long before his leg gets its strength back."
After a moment of silence, Hawkeye raised a suggestion. "We ought to throw Frank a party."
Henry looked at the captain in disbelief. "Have you gone bananas or something? You and him aren't exactly the best of friends. I've seen better friends between the North and South Koreans," he added with humour.
"Funny, Henry. I'm being serious though. As much as the guy gets on my nerves, the least he deserves is a going away party, to make up for the times when we've wound him up."
"It's just an excuse for you to get drunk and meet some nurses," Henry retorted.
"Fine then, what will your excuse be for turning up?"
"Touché. When do you want this party?"
"The day before he leaves. That works as Saturday night."
Henry found a piece of paper and began to write down the details. "Should we make it a surprise party?"
"Definitely," Hawkeye agreed.
"Trapper, have you got any suggestions?" Henry asked.
"Save your breath, he fell asleep a while ago. Right about the time that Frank walked in," Hawkeye added impishly.
"We'll take him back in a minute. It can't be too comfortable in that chair."
"Okay, sure. Party first though. We'll hold it in the Officers club. Someone could do the decorations. A banner would be good… Henry are you getting all this?"
"Yep… banner. What else? Drinks?"
"Henry's life source," Hawkeye commented. "Now, we need music too…"
The planning continued, and by the next day everyone except for Frank knew about the party. They began planning it, beginning by setting up the Officer's Club.
When Hawkeye informed Margaret of the idea, she was reluctant. "I don't think that me going to Frank's party would be such a great idea," she admitted.
"I thought that this transfer had something to do with you. What happened?"
"I was going to try and let him down gently, but it never worked out that way. He kept twisting everything I said, so I just gave up and told him straight."
"Not great, but it would be wrong for you not to come. You'll enjoy it once you get drunk."
"Do I always get drunk?"
"Let me take you back to Trapper's farewell party, the one he never really went home from."
"Don't remind me," Margaret groaned. "I was so embarrassed."
"About what? Getting drunk or dancing with Trapper?"
Margaret looked uncomfortable. Sensing this, Hawkeye changed tact. "Let me also remind you of the time that Frank outlawed alcohol in the camp, and the three of us managed to get drunk in the Swamp. Or how about the time you were going to leave, so yet again, you got drunk…"
"Okay, point taken," Margaret laughed. She was smiling again, and Hawkeye was glad that he had dug her out of the hole that he managed to dig her into. She added, "I tell you what. We'll make a bet. If I don't get drunk, you give me twenty dollars."
"Wow, we must have had a great effect on you, since you're a gambling girl now, too. All right, if you don't get drunk, then I give you twenty dollars. If, however, you do get drunk, then I want twenty dollars off of you."
"Deal," Margaret said, shaking hands.
As they laughed and joked together, Hawkeye did some thinking. He noticed how much nicer she was when she wasn't around Frank. She'd laugh and joke, compliment people, and be at ease. Hawkeye wished that he'd seen this nice person in Margaret before, because he would not have given her such a hard time.
Hawkeye was not the only one who noticed Margaret's changing character. Moral was higher in the nurses, and their work improved. Henry noticed the changes, and felt happier that he would expect less complaining from the head nurse.
Most of all, Hawkeye and Trapper had found a friend in Margaret. It took a little convincing after he woke up after the accident, but soon Trapper also saw what Hawkeye had seen in her.
"It's amazing, the influence your friends have on you," Trapper said to Hawkeye. The two friends were busy setting up the Officer's Club for Frank's Farewell Party, which was to happen later that night.
"I know," Hawkeye agreed. "We must be a great influence on her."
"Or Frank's a really bad influence on her," Trapper put forward.
"Or perhaps a little of both," Hawkeye suggested. "Or, maybe, when you are friends with bad people, it brings out the bad in you, whereas when you hang around with good people…"
"All right, stop getting technical," Trapper groaned. "In conclusion, she's nicer. End of story." He got up from his chair and hobbled over to a person in a dark coloured dress. "Hey, Klinger, great banner you got there."
"Thanks," Klinger replied. "How are you feeling?"
"My leg is still a bit sore, otherwise I'm fine," Trapper replied, touched by Klinger's concern. "Is this what you'll be wearing tonight?"
"This old thing? No, I have something new lined up for tonight. Dark purple satin, halter neck and backless," he said, painting a mental picture.
"That one's gonna be turning some heads," Trapper laughed.
Everything was set. The decorations were ready, the banner was in place, some gifts had been wrapped, and Frank was on his way over to the Officer's Club for what he thought would be a last drink there, by himself.
"Shh!" Everyone called.
The door of the room opened. "Hey," came Frank's voice. "What happened to the lights?"
"SURPRISE!" The lights flicked on, revealing the decorated room. Frank was taken aback beyond words as he took in everything around him.
"I… I… Who?" He could not yet string sentences together.
Hawkeye, clad in his famous Hawaiian shirt, stepped forward, along with a tipsy Henry in his black and orange sweater, and Trapper on crutches, also with a Hawaiian shirt. "That would be us," Hawkeye informed him simply.
"You? You did this?"
"You're not dreaming," Hawkeye said.
"I'll pinch you if you want," Trapper added.
"No, I believe you," Frank said hastily. "But why? A party, from the people who put ether in my aftershave? Who tricked me into thinking Korea was a goldmine? Who replaced my Purple Heart with a Purple Earring?"
"It was still an honour," Henry slurred.
"Well, after all that, the least you deserved from us was this. Enjoy!" Hawkeye finished by shouting, and the crowd erupted into cheers.
Frank was ushered over to the bar, where he was given something to drink. After about an hour, Hawkeye called everyone to attention, as he was going to present Frank with some presents.
"Okay, from all the nurses and the enlisted men," he began. "They all chipped in a bit each, and came up with a new frame for your mother's picture." Frank was touched that the people he had so often put down could be so nice to him.
"From the officers, a martini glass and a pack of cards to play poker, two of the things that you can make it through the war with. Sorry we couldn't give you the third thing, but they wouldn't let us wrap up a nurse."
The crowd laughed as Frank accepted the gift. A few more offerings were offered, and then people went back to enjoying the evening. Frank walked up to Hawkeye.
"I don't know what to say," he confessed. "I really don't."
"Surprised?"
"That's understatement of the year. I still don't get it, though."
"I guess I don't, really. I can think of one thing to help explain it, though. I remembered the time when the Army shelled the village of Tae Dong. In the end you and Margaret did the decent thing and helped with the report. I guess that after all the rotten things we did to you, we had to do the decent thing and organise a decent send off for you."
"I know what to say now," Frank said. "Thank you." The two shook hands. Frank had forgotten that he was leaving because he was disliked. He was going to enjoy the evening that had been planned for him, and that was the end of it.
Everyone, Frank included, enjoyed the night. Radar played on a drum kit, creating fast or mellow rhythms for the dancers to keep in time to. He had a wild moment on the percussion, and was applauded for it afterwards.
Henry was in the corner of the room, drunk through past his skull. At several moments, he could be caught trying to chat up a plant, though unsuccessfully of course.
Trapper sat on one of the tables, watching the dancing. He was tired, as he should have rested more over the days that he had been up, but did not really want to. He had also been drinking more than he had for the past week, which added to his fatigue. He noticed Margaret alone by the bar, so he decided to go over and see her.
"Hey," he greeted. "You're all by yourself. What's up?"
"Nothing," she said brightly. She had had nothing to drink at the party, and was determined to keep it that way. Stakes were high, not just for the money, but for her pride.
"Wanna dance?" Trapper asked, not quite sure what he was doing by asking that question.
"Dance? Sure, but what about your leg?" Margaret pointed out.
"Well, you dance and I'll kind of sway or something," he grinned.
"Okay then." They got on the floor, and Trapper held Margaret close. After some attempt at moving, the pair gave up and just decided to sway.
"This is nice," Trapper murmured.
"Yeah," Margaret agreed.
As the music and alcohol slowly entered him, Trapper's thoughts drifted. He remembered something that he had told no one. It happened not long after the jeep crash.
He had been unconscious in Post-Op, when suddenly he opened his eyes to see his wife and children before him. He was going to speak, say something, anything, but he found he couldn't.
"John," his wife spoke. "I love you, and know how much you cared for me. You have to understand that I can't be there for you anymore, but you can be there for someone else. There is someone else for you, someone close to you. Make her happy."
Trapper found his voice. "What is this? What are you talking about?"
His questions were left unanswered, and he just passed it off as a dream inspired by his surgery and forgot about it. Then, he remembered it again, and wondered if there was more to it than he first imagined.
Hawkeye looked over at the two dancers. "They look happy," he commented. It had been a while since he had seen Trapper look so contented.
"Trapper looks half asleep," Radar remarked. Hawkeye had to laugh in agreement.
"He starts back at word tomorrow," Hawkeye told him.
"With a broken leg? What kind of doctor are you?" Radar demanded to know.
"Relax, he won't be operating," Hawkeye assured him.
"Did Colonel Blake okay it?" Radar persisted.
"Calm down, Radar. Yeah, he okayed it."
"I still can't believe that Major Burns is leaving," Radar changed the subject.
"Neither can I," Hawkeye replied. He remembered that the last time this situation had occurred, Hawkeye had schemed to stop it. This time, though, he had accepted it.
Back on the dance floor, Margaret noticed that Trapper was beginning to tire, as he was having trouble keeping in time with the music.
"Trapper, you're tired, aren't you."
"A bit."
"Shall I take you back?"
Trapper yawned and nodded in reply. "I'll just go and say goodbye to Frank," he said. Whilst he did that, Margaret went to find Hawkeye.
"Hi," Hawkeye greeted. "Having fun?"
"Yeah, sure am. Without a bit of alcohol in me, I add. But, I just came to tell you that I'm going to take Trapper back to the Swamp. He's getting tired."
"Okay, sure," Hawkeye said. "Is he all right?"
"Yeah, but he's more tired than he'll admit. I'm sure he'll be fine after a good nights sleep," she added hastily, not wanting Hawkeye to think that Trapper was unfit to work the next day.
Meanwhile, Trapper had found Frank. "Frank," he began. "I'm going now. Sorry to leave early, but…"
"Don't worry, I understand. Well, McIntyre, Trapper, it's been okay knowing you. Not good, but okay."
"Thanks," Trapper said sarcastically.
"There have been good times, times when you've helped me. You helped me save a man's life, telling me not to cut out his only kidney. That day was the day when I had the most respect for you."
"It sure won't be the same without you, Frank." Parting on good terms, they shook hands and bid farewell to each other.
Margaret walked back to Trapper's tent with him. She held open the door for him as he, aided by his crutches, fumbled through it into the Swamp.
"Thanks, Margaret," he said as he took off his boots. "Hawkeye is right, you are a great friend."
Margaret smiled. "Glad to know it." She waited for a moment for a reply, thinking it was an awkward silence. It was only when she looked up she realised that he had fallen asleep.
Margaret smiled like a parent watching over an overtired child. She picked up his legs, which still hung over the side of the cot, and put them into his bed. He covered him with a blanket and lightly kissed him on the cheek before returning to the party.
"You want a what?" Henry asked in disbelief.
Frank, as calmly as he could, repeated what he said. "I want a transfer."
"Frank, the last time you asked me for a transfer to another unit, you had your arm in a cast with a hook sticking out of it. What now?"
Frank thought to himself about what had driven him to ask for a transfer. He originally thought that Margaret would turn to see sense and would come crawling back to him, where she would have been immediately forgiven. Instead, she treated him like a stranger.
Frank, sensing defeat, decided that he had two options. He could either carry on by himself, or he could ask to be transferred. He was not about to tell Henry the reason for his choice, because he thought Henry would tell Hawkeye and Trapper without delay.
"I don't have to give any reasoning," Frank this made known.
"No, that's true. But I need you to stay until McIntyre is fit to work. I'm down by one surgeon as it is, and if I lose another without replacement then it'll jeopardise the patients."
"I understand," Frank agreed. "But as soon as he is ready, I want out."
"You're not kidding around," Henry murmured. "All right, Burns. I'm not happy about it, but I'll get it sorted."
"Thank you, sir," Frank saluted and left.
Henry sighed. Frank leaving? He wondered what could have brought this on. "Ra…"
"Transfer papers, sir," Radar interrupted, producing himself and the papers to Henry, who jumped out of his skin.
"Mail call!" It was some days later, and Radar was being mauled as people grabbed for their letters and packages from home. The assortment of mail contained a letter from Hawkeye's father, some things sent by Trapper's in-laws, and parcels from the Tabasco Film Company.
Henry decided to hold a showing in his office that afternoon, as Trapper was becoming restless, according to Hawkeye. He helped Trapper in Henry's office, and found him two chairs; one for him to sit on and one to prop his broken leg on.
Whilst Henry set the film up, he made small conversation with the two doctors. "You guys get anything in mail call today?"
"Got a letter from Dad," Hawkeye told him. "He's okay. He also had a message for Trapper, telling him to call a cab next time he thinks about taking a jeep," he added, chucking as he did so.
Henry laughed before Trapper spoke. "My mother-in-law, Louise's mother, she sent me some stuff. Some of the girls' things, like Becky's favourite dress, and Kathy's baby blanket. They were on the washing line at the time… she sent me some photos too."
It was clear to both Hawkeye and Henry that Trapper had still not fully come to terms with the loss of his wife and two daughters, but he was making good progress.
Henry finished preparing the film, and then announced, "Gentlemen, the film you are about to see was supplied by the Tabasco Film Company…"
"Get on with it, Henry," Hawkeye interrupted. "You're not saying grace for Thanksgiving dinner."
"Okay, okay," Henry muttered as he started the film and sat down.
The film ended, and the three men felt better then they had before it. The heavy atmosphere had been replaced by a light air.
As they discussed the picture, Henry's telephone rang. "4077th M*A*S*H, Colonel Blake at your service," he greeted as Hawkeye and Trapper laughed at him. "Yes… yeah, that's right… not yet, but we're still looking… he's up and recovering well… that's correct… finalised? Good, okay, I'll tell him. Thank you, good day." Henry replaced the receiver.
"Good news?" Hawkeye asked. "Has the war ended? They want me back home?"
"Keep hoping," Henry replied cynically. "Radar!"
Radar hurried. "Yes sir? Was the film good?"
"Yeah, great, thanks. Tell Major Burns to report to my office."
"Yes sir," Radar replied, trundling out of the office.
"What's the big secret?" Trapper asked.
"Well," Henry began. "I was going to keep a lid on it until now, when it's all been finalised. Frank is being transferred."
Hawkeye broke the moment of shock. "For real?"
"It is now. There's no turning back."
"But why?" Trapper asked. Hawkeye had no need to enquire, as he already knew. He figured that Frank and Margaret must have come to blows, and so Frank gave up and waved the white flag. Trapper, like the rest of the camp, had not realised that Hawkeye and Margaret had discussed it.
"He didn't say. Personally, I think that Major Houlihan is involved somewhere along the lines."
Hawkeye chose that moment to keep quiet, and was thankful of his judgement as Frank walked in.
"You wanted to see me, sir?" Frank asked, ignoring Hawkeye and Trapper.
"Yes, Frank. I just got a call, saying that everything is ready for your transfer. You'll be permitted to go as soon as Trapper is fit to work."
"When will that be?" Frank persisted. He could only take so much of the war being isolated.
"Well, Pierce, you're his physician. What do you think?" Henry asked.
"I'd give him three days," Hawkeye concluded. "Only part time duties, though. I know he has a broken leg, but unless we get a deluge of wounded then we'll be able to cope."
"There you go, Frank. I'll organise it from here." Henry paused. "You know, Frank, we may not be the sanest, strictest, most regular army place in the war, but I didn't think it would come to this."
Frank looked touched for a moment, before frowning. "Well, it wouldn't have come to this if it weren't for those two!"
Hawkeye feigned shock. "Frank! After all we've done for you, how could you say that?"
"Quiet, Pierce. Frank, you're dismissed."
As Frank turned and left, Henry turned to Hawkeye. "Are you sure McIntyre will be fit to work? I mean, his leg is still broken, and I know how much you would love to get rid of Frank…"
Hawkeye held up his hand to stop Henry. "Okay, I know I am low, but I'm not that low. He's making a good recovery, and it won't be long before his leg gets its strength back."
After a moment of silence, Hawkeye raised a suggestion. "We ought to throw Frank a party."
Henry looked at the captain in disbelief. "Have you gone bananas or something? You and him aren't exactly the best of friends. I've seen better friends between the North and South Koreans," he added with humour.
"Funny, Henry. I'm being serious though. As much as the guy gets on my nerves, the least he deserves is a going away party, to make up for the times when we've wound him up."
"It's just an excuse for you to get drunk and meet some nurses," Henry retorted.
"Fine then, what will your excuse be for turning up?"
"Touché. When do you want this party?"
"The day before he leaves. That works as Saturday night."
Henry found a piece of paper and began to write down the details. "Should we make it a surprise party?"
"Definitely," Hawkeye agreed.
"Trapper, have you got any suggestions?" Henry asked.
"Save your breath, he fell asleep a while ago. Right about the time that Frank walked in," Hawkeye added impishly.
"We'll take him back in a minute. It can't be too comfortable in that chair."
"Okay, sure. Party first though. We'll hold it in the Officers club. Someone could do the decorations. A banner would be good… Henry are you getting all this?"
"Yep… banner. What else? Drinks?"
"Henry's life source," Hawkeye commented. "Now, we need music too…"
The planning continued, and by the next day everyone except for Frank knew about the party. They began planning it, beginning by setting up the Officer's Club.
When Hawkeye informed Margaret of the idea, she was reluctant. "I don't think that me going to Frank's party would be such a great idea," she admitted.
"I thought that this transfer had something to do with you. What happened?"
"I was going to try and let him down gently, but it never worked out that way. He kept twisting everything I said, so I just gave up and told him straight."
"Not great, but it would be wrong for you not to come. You'll enjoy it once you get drunk."
"Do I always get drunk?"
"Let me take you back to Trapper's farewell party, the one he never really went home from."
"Don't remind me," Margaret groaned. "I was so embarrassed."
"About what? Getting drunk or dancing with Trapper?"
Margaret looked uncomfortable. Sensing this, Hawkeye changed tact. "Let me also remind you of the time that Frank outlawed alcohol in the camp, and the three of us managed to get drunk in the Swamp. Or how about the time you were going to leave, so yet again, you got drunk…"
"Okay, point taken," Margaret laughed. She was smiling again, and Hawkeye was glad that he had dug her out of the hole that he managed to dig her into. She added, "I tell you what. We'll make a bet. If I don't get drunk, you give me twenty dollars."
"Wow, we must have had a great effect on you, since you're a gambling girl now, too. All right, if you don't get drunk, then I give you twenty dollars. If, however, you do get drunk, then I want twenty dollars off of you."
"Deal," Margaret said, shaking hands.
As they laughed and joked together, Hawkeye did some thinking. He noticed how much nicer she was when she wasn't around Frank. She'd laugh and joke, compliment people, and be at ease. Hawkeye wished that he'd seen this nice person in Margaret before, because he would not have given her such a hard time.
Hawkeye was not the only one who noticed Margaret's changing character. Moral was higher in the nurses, and their work improved. Henry noticed the changes, and felt happier that he would expect less complaining from the head nurse.
Most of all, Hawkeye and Trapper had found a friend in Margaret. It took a little convincing after he woke up after the accident, but soon Trapper also saw what Hawkeye had seen in her.
"It's amazing, the influence your friends have on you," Trapper said to Hawkeye. The two friends were busy setting up the Officer's Club for Frank's Farewell Party, which was to happen later that night.
"I know," Hawkeye agreed. "We must be a great influence on her."
"Or Frank's a really bad influence on her," Trapper put forward.
"Or perhaps a little of both," Hawkeye suggested. "Or, maybe, when you are friends with bad people, it brings out the bad in you, whereas when you hang around with good people…"
"All right, stop getting technical," Trapper groaned. "In conclusion, she's nicer. End of story." He got up from his chair and hobbled over to a person in a dark coloured dress. "Hey, Klinger, great banner you got there."
"Thanks," Klinger replied. "How are you feeling?"
"My leg is still a bit sore, otherwise I'm fine," Trapper replied, touched by Klinger's concern. "Is this what you'll be wearing tonight?"
"This old thing? No, I have something new lined up for tonight. Dark purple satin, halter neck and backless," he said, painting a mental picture.
"That one's gonna be turning some heads," Trapper laughed.
Everything was set. The decorations were ready, the banner was in place, some gifts had been wrapped, and Frank was on his way over to the Officer's Club for what he thought would be a last drink there, by himself.
"Shh!" Everyone called.
The door of the room opened. "Hey," came Frank's voice. "What happened to the lights?"
"SURPRISE!" The lights flicked on, revealing the decorated room. Frank was taken aback beyond words as he took in everything around him.
"I… I… Who?" He could not yet string sentences together.
Hawkeye, clad in his famous Hawaiian shirt, stepped forward, along with a tipsy Henry in his black and orange sweater, and Trapper on crutches, also with a Hawaiian shirt. "That would be us," Hawkeye informed him simply.
"You? You did this?"
"You're not dreaming," Hawkeye said.
"I'll pinch you if you want," Trapper added.
"No, I believe you," Frank said hastily. "But why? A party, from the people who put ether in my aftershave? Who tricked me into thinking Korea was a goldmine? Who replaced my Purple Heart with a Purple Earring?"
"It was still an honour," Henry slurred.
"Well, after all that, the least you deserved from us was this. Enjoy!" Hawkeye finished by shouting, and the crowd erupted into cheers.
Frank was ushered over to the bar, where he was given something to drink. After about an hour, Hawkeye called everyone to attention, as he was going to present Frank with some presents.
"Okay, from all the nurses and the enlisted men," he began. "They all chipped in a bit each, and came up with a new frame for your mother's picture." Frank was touched that the people he had so often put down could be so nice to him.
"From the officers, a martini glass and a pack of cards to play poker, two of the things that you can make it through the war with. Sorry we couldn't give you the third thing, but they wouldn't let us wrap up a nurse."
The crowd laughed as Frank accepted the gift. A few more offerings were offered, and then people went back to enjoying the evening. Frank walked up to Hawkeye.
"I don't know what to say," he confessed. "I really don't."
"Surprised?"
"That's understatement of the year. I still don't get it, though."
"I guess I don't, really. I can think of one thing to help explain it, though. I remembered the time when the Army shelled the village of Tae Dong. In the end you and Margaret did the decent thing and helped with the report. I guess that after all the rotten things we did to you, we had to do the decent thing and organise a decent send off for you."
"I know what to say now," Frank said. "Thank you." The two shook hands. Frank had forgotten that he was leaving because he was disliked. He was going to enjoy the evening that had been planned for him, and that was the end of it.
Everyone, Frank included, enjoyed the night. Radar played on a drum kit, creating fast or mellow rhythms for the dancers to keep in time to. He had a wild moment on the percussion, and was applauded for it afterwards.
Henry was in the corner of the room, drunk through past his skull. At several moments, he could be caught trying to chat up a plant, though unsuccessfully of course.
Trapper sat on one of the tables, watching the dancing. He was tired, as he should have rested more over the days that he had been up, but did not really want to. He had also been drinking more than he had for the past week, which added to his fatigue. He noticed Margaret alone by the bar, so he decided to go over and see her.
"Hey," he greeted. "You're all by yourself. What's up?"
"Nothing," she said brightly. She had had nothing to drink at the party, and was determined to keep it that way. Stakes were high, not just for the money, but for her pride.
"Wanna dance?" Trapper asked, not quite sure what he was doing by asking that question.
"Dance? Sure, but what about your leg?" Margaret pointed out.
"Well, you dance and I'll kind of sway or something," he grinned.
"Okay then." They got on the floor, and Trapper held Margaret close. After some attempt at moving, the pair gave up and just decided to sway.
"This is nice," Trapper murmured.
"Yeah," Margaret agreed.
As the music and alcohol slowly entered him, Trapper's thoughts drifted. He remembered something that he had told no one. It happened not long after the jeep crash.
He had been unconscious in Post-Op, when suddenly he opened his eyes to see his wife and children before him. He was going to speak, say something, anything, but he found he couldn't.
"John," his wife spoke. "I love you, and know how much you cared for me. You have to understand that I can't be there for you anymore, but you can be there for someone else. There is someone else for you, someone close to you. Make her happy."
Trapper found his voice. "What is this? What are you talking about?"
His questions were left unanswered, and he just passed it off as a dream inspired by his surgery and forgot about it. Then, he remembered it again, and wondered if there was more to it than he first imagined.
Hawkeye looked over at the two dancers. "They look happy," he commented. It had been a while since he had seen Trapper look so contented.
"Trapper looks half asleep," Radar remarked. Hawkeye had to laugh in agreement.
"He starts back at word tomorrow," Hawkeye told him.
"With a broken leg? What kind of doctor are you?" Radar demanded to know.
"Relax, he won't be operating," Hawkeye assured him.
"Did Colonel Blake okay it?" Radar persisted.
"Calm down, Radar. Yeah, he okayed it."
"I still can't believe that Major Burns is leaving," Radar changed the subject.
"Neither can I," Hawkeye replied. He remembered that the last time this situation had occurred, Hawkeye had schemed to stop it. This time, though, he had accepted it.
Back on the dance floor, Margaret noticed that Trapper was beginning to tire, as he was having trouble keeping in time with the music.
"Trapper, you're tired, aren't you."
"A bit."
"Shall I take you back?"
Trapper yawned and nodded in reply. "I'll just go and say goodbye to Frank," he said. Whilst he did that, Margaret went to find Hawkeye.
"Hi," Hawkeye greeted. "Having fun?"
"Yeah, sure am. Without a bit of alcohol in me, I add. But, I just came to tell you that I'm going to take Trapper back to the Swamp. He's getting tired."
"Okay, sure," Hawkeye said. "Is he all right?"
"Yeah, but he's more tired than he'll admit. I'm sure he'll be fine after a good nights sleep," she added hastily, not wanting Hawkeye to think that Trapper was unfit to work the next day.
Meanwhile, Trapper had found Frank. "Frank," he began. "I'm going now. Sorry to leave early, but…"
"Don't worry, I understand. Well, McIntyre, Trapper, it's been okay knowing you. Not good, but okay."
"Thanks," Trapper said sarcastically.
"There have been good times, times when you've helped me. You helped me save a man's life, telling me not to cut out his only kidney. That day was the day when I had the most respect for you."
"It sure won't be the same without you, Frank." Parting on good terms, they shook hands and bid farewell to each other.
Margaret walked back to Trapper's tent with him. She held open the door for him as he, aided by his crutches, fumbled through it into the Swamp.
"Thanks, Margaret," he said as he took off his boots. "Hawkeye is right, you are a great friend."
Margaret smiled. "Glad to know it." She waited for a moment for a reply, thinking it was an awkward silence. It was only when she looked up she realised that he had fallen asleep.
Margaret smiled like a parent watching over an overtired child. She picked up his legs, which still hung over the side of the cot, and put them into his bed. He covered him with a blanket and lightly kissed him on the cheek before returning to the party.