Part 5
Margaret and Hawkeye talked through the night about the situation, as Hawkeye tried to make sense of it.
"I can't love him, Hawk," she said. "He just lost his wife and kids. Could you imagine it if he found out? He'd never speak to me again."
"I don't think he'd be that extreme," Hawkeye mused.
"I just don't know what to do."
"How about if I broke it to him?" Hawkeye suggested.
"What? Tell him?"
"Or maybe just drop a big hint?"
It was eventually settled that Hawkeye would talk to Trapper, and then see where to go from there.
"I'm sorry for me putting you in this difficult position," Margaret apologised as Hawkeye got up to leave.
"Don't worry," Hawkeye replied. "You had to tell somebody."
Two days later, Hawkeye decided to hold the conversation. It was just the two of them in the Swamp, as BJ was in the OR.
Just as Hawkeye was going to start, Trapper blurted out, "Hawk, I need your help."
Déjà vu, Hawkeye thought to himself. "Sure, what's up?"
"You probably won't like it very much. I mean, you'll be telling me that its just a short-term thing, but…"
Hawkeye recognised this babbled talk from somewhere. "Okay, Trap, slow down and start from the beginning."
"All right. I'll tell it to you straight. I think I'm in love, with Margaret."
Hawkeye struggled to keep his eyes from jumping out of their sockets as Trapper continued. "I know, I know, it sounds stupid, and probably sounds like I'm using it as a way to get over my wife, but…"
"I really don't think it sounds stupid," Hawkeye interrupted, wondering when he had last seen a better combination of people. "I don't know why I didn't see it before."
"Well, at least you're okay with it, but what would Margaret think if she ever found out?"
Déjà vu again, Hawkeye thought to himself. "How about I talk to her?"
"Do you really think that's a good idea?"
"It's been known to work," Hawkeye assured him.
Just then, frantic Radar ran into the Swamp. "Sirs, we have just got word that an aid station got bombed. Wounded within half an hour."
"Terrific," Hawkeye muttered.
"There's worse news. Wait for it." A moment later, a shell exploded not too far away from them, closely followed by another.
"Double terrific," Trapper murmured, looking for his helmet. "Guess its show time."
"I guess so."
"I hate this war," BJ muttered.
"You holding up okay?" Henry asked.
"Better than this guy."
The staff had been in surgery for eight hours. No one had said anything about Trapper going in, even on a weak leg, and Trapper thought that he would make it through. Unfortunately, after the eight hours, his legs began to buckle beneath him, and he had to grab the table to stop him meeting with the ground.
"Kellye, get a chair," Hawkeye called, unable to do this himself.
"I'll be all right, I just need to walk around a bit."
"I'll take your patient," BJ volunteered. "I'm done here. New gown and gloves."
"It's convenient," Henry said, "because you can walk over to the Supply Room and get us some plasma. We're running low at this end."
"Henry, give him ten minutes to sit down first," Hawkeye objected.
"Okay, sure." As Trapper left, Henry called, "all right, this one's done, lets have the next one." Henry was presented with a patient that turned his face while.
"Henry, are you all right?" BJ asked.
All Henry could do was to turn and stumble out of the OR.
"Henry?" Trapper saw Henry stagger into the Scrub room. "What's up?"
Henry slumped onto the bench. "That woman," he whispered.
"What woman? A nurse? From our unit or the Aid Station?"
"Yeah, Aid Station. She is the exact double of my wife, Lorraine. I couldn't see any difference, except this lady was wounded."
"I bet that was scary," Trapper sympathized.
"I really thought it was her. I couldn't operate on her, each time I'd look at her I would think that I was operating on Lorraine."
"Okay Henry, think for a second, just for a second, that it was actually Lorraine, your wife, on that table."
"Are you nuts?!"
"Hear me out, Henry. If it was your wife, then would you trust anyone but yourself to be in complete control of that operation?"
Henry thought about this for a moment before standing up. "You're in the wrong specialty. You and Sidney ought to go into partnership."
"No chance, I'd go mad! You go and operate, and I'll go and get some plasma."
Back in the OR, Henry carried on, trying to pretend that nothing had happened. He made a special effort to save this particular patient.
Another shell landed with a devastating blast outside. "They're getting closer," Hawkeye said, finishing the patient. "Next!"
"No more patients," the core man called, taking away the patient Hawkeye had just finished.
"In that case, I'll tell Trapper not to worry about the plasma," Margaret volunteered, leaving the OR.
"I guess it wasn't as bad as we thought," Hawkeye said, referring to the surgery.
"Speak for yourself," BJ murmured as another shell hit made itself known.
"Need some help, Beej?" Hawkeye asked.
"I'm just finishing, thanks anyway," BJ replied.
"Sirs!" Radar skidded into the OR. "You gotta come quick. It's the Supply Room, it's been hit!"
A few moments earlier: "Trapper," Margaret called into the room. "We don't need the plasma anymore. There's no more wounded."
"All right, I'll just put this back," Trapper called. He walked between the shelves, and found the space where he had taken the goods. As he replaced the containers, there was a huge thud and an explosion above him. The ceiling rained in on him, and the shelves and objects showered on him.
"Trapper!" Margaret screamed. She moved the heavy boxes off of him, and tried to check if he was hurt.
"Can you hear me?" she yelled at him.
"Me, and the rest of Korea," Trapper joked, but with difficulty through the pain.
"You're hurt," Margaret stated with concern.
Trapper didn't know what came over him. A mix of pain, light-headedness and love, but the only thing he could do was to kiss Margaret.
As he kissed her, all Trapper could think about was all the times he had been close to Margaret. The time she was attacked by Stanley Robbins, the plastic surgeon, and he comforted her afterwards. There was the time that he kissed her over the desk after she and Frank provided her with the evidence to get the Army to admit it was wrong. How about the time he kissed her before getting on the bus to Rainbow Bridge. All the times they had worked together, particularly when he had a long, difficult surgery, including an open-heart massage. She had been there for him every step of the way.
The time he remembered most was when they were in the Supply Room, when the camp had been bombed a previous time. That thought stuck in him mind for a long time.
When their lips finally parted, their look in their eyes said that what had just happened was right.
"You okay?" Trapper asked cautiously, more about the kiss than being trapped in the room.
"Only if you're okay. Are you?"
His heart-warming smile said it all.
As the two stared into each others eyes, they heard voices from outside.
"Margaret! Trapper!" The door burst open and Hawkeye peered into the room.
"Here!" Margaret called.
"Are you hurt?" Hawkeye asked.
"Not loads," Trapper said, trying not to wheeze.
"You'll be fine once we get out of here. Can you both walk?" On seeing them nod, Hawkeye said, "Good, I'm about to teach you how to run. Now go!"
The three of them scrambled out of shelter, but with the rib injuries, Trapper could not make it across the compound and collapsed in a crumpled heap, rasping for air.
Hawkeye looked back and saw his friend go down. "Trap," he muttered anxiously, going back for him. Margaret had already gone inside, ahead of him.
He crouched down on the ground next to him. "Always the big, silent, strong guy. You make a lousy patient," he muttered.
"And a frequent one," Trapper muttered. "I'm sorry all this stuff keeps… keeps happening to me, Hawk."
"You don't have to be sorry. But, don't worry, I think your reign of bad luck is over." Hawkeye unbuttoned Trapper's shirt to get a better look at the extent of the damage. "You see, bad luck comes in threes. You've had your three doses of it."
As Hawkeye talked, there was a look of excruciating pain on Trapper's face. Hawkeye saw it and became more concerned. "What? What is it?"
"Just painful."
"All right, I'll fix you up good as new. Don't go anywhere, okay?"
"Like where?"
"I don't know, the movies or something," Hawkeye joked.
"Hawk," Trapper began as he was loaded onto the stretcher.
"Yeah Trap? Anything?"
"Me and Margaret, in that room… tell her I love her."
"Consider it done," Hawkeye promised.
"He's going to be fine," Hawkeye assured Margaret for the third time. He was in the scrub room, talking to Margaret about Trapper's surgery. "The procedure was simple, and there were absolutely no problems."
"As long as you're sure," Margaret said, still not convinced.
Hawkeye rolled his eyes. "This is why I didn't let you into the OR." He softened. "I know how much you care about him."
"And you don't?" Margaret retorted.
"Sure I do, he's my best friend. I just don't care about him like you do. He left you a message, before he went in there."
"What? What did he say?"
"Not much, just that he loves you," Hawkeye teased.
Margaret, overcome by more emotion than she could account for, sat on the bench. Hawkeye sat beside her and embraced her.
"It's okay," he calmed her. "It's all right. Everything's gonna be all right."
Margaret and Hawkeye talked through the night about the situation, as Hawkeye tried to make sense of it.
"I can't love him, Hawk," she said. "He just lost his wife and kids. Could you imagine it if he found out? He'd never speak to me again."
"I don't think he'd be that extreme," Hawkeye mused.
"I just don't know what to do."
"How about if I broke it to him?" Hawkeye suggested.
"What? Tell him?"
"Or maybe just drop a big hint?"
It was eventually settled that Hawkeye would talk to Trapper, and then see where to go from there.
"I'm sorry for me putting you in this difficult position," Margaret apologised as Hawkeye got up to leave.
"Don't worry," Hawkeye replied. "You had to tell somebody."
Two days later, Hawkeye decided to hold the conversation. It was just the two of them in the Swamp, as BJ was in the OR.
Just as Hawkeye was going to start, Trapper blurted out, "Hawk, I need your help."
Déjà vu, Hawkeye thought to himself. "Sure, what's up?"
"You probably won't like it very much. I mean, you'll be telling me that its just a short-term thing, but…"
Hawkeye recognised this babbled talk from somewhere. "Okay, Trap, slow down and start from the beginning."
"All right. I'll tell it to you straight. I think I'm in love, with Margaret."
Hawkeye struggled to keep his eyes from jumping out of their sockets as Trapper continued. "I know, I know, it sounds stupid, and probably sounds like I'm using it as a way to get over my wife, but…"
"I really don't think it sounds stupid," Hawkeye interrupted, wondering when he had last seen a better combination of people. "I don't know why I didn't see it before."
"Well, at least you're okay with it, but what would Margaret think if she ever found out?"
Déjà vu again, Hawkeye thought to himself. "How about I talk to her?"
"Do you really think that's a good idea?"
"It's been known to work," Hawkeye assured him.
Just then, frantic Radar ran into the Swamp. "Sirs, we have just got word that an aid station got bombed. Wounded within half an hour."
"Terrific," Hawkeye muttered.
"There's worse news. Wait for it." A moment later, a shell exploded not too far away from them, closely followed by another.
"Double terrific," Trapper murmured, looking for his helmet. "Guess its show time."
"I guess so."
"I hate this war," BJ muttered.
"You holding up okay?" Henry asked.
"Better than this guy."
The staff had been in surgery for eight hours. No one had said anything about Trapper going in, even on a weak leg, and Trapper thought that he would make it through. Unfortunately, after the eight hours, his legs began to buckle beneath him, and he had to grab the table to stop him meeting with the ground.
"Kellye, get a chair," Hawkeye called, unable to do this himself.
"I'll be all right, I just need to walk around a bit."
"I'll take your patient," BJ volunteered. "I'm done here. New gown and gloves."
"It's convenient," Henry said, "because you can walk over to the Supply Room and get us some plasma. We're running low at this end."
"Henry, give him ten minutes to sit down first," Hawkeye objected.
"Okay, sure." As Trapper left, Henry called, "all right, this one's done, lets have the next one." Henry was presented with a patient that turned his face while.
"Henry, are you all right?" BJ asked.
All Henry could do was to turn and stumble out of the OR.
"Henry?" Trapper saw Henry stagger into the Scrub room. "What's up?"
Henry slumped onto the bench. "That woman," he whispered.
"What woman? A nurse? From our unit or the Aid Station?"
"Yeah, Aid Station. She is the exact double of my wife, Lorraine. I couldn't see any difference, except this lady was wounded."
"I bet that was scary," Trapper sympathized.
"I really thought it was her. I couldn't operate on her, each time I'd look at her I would think that I was operating on Lorraine."
"Okay Henry, think for a second, just for a second, that it was actually Lorraine, your wife, on that table."
"Are you nuts?!"
"Hear me out, Henry. If it was your wife, then would you trust anyone but yourself to be in complete control of that operation?"
Henry thought about this for a moment before standing up. "You're in the wrong specialty. You and Sidney ought to go into partnership."
"No chance, I'd go mad! You go and operate, and I'll go and get some plasma."
Back in the OR, Henry carried on, trying to pretend that nothing had happened. He made a special effort to save this particular patient.
Another shell landed with a devastating blast outside. "They're getting closer," Hawkeye said, finishing the patient. "Next!"
"No more patients," the core man called, taking away the patient Hawkeye had just finished.
"In that case, I'll tell Trapper not to worry about the plasma," Margaret volunteered, leaving the OR.
"I guess it wasn't as bad as we thought," Hawkeye said, referring to the surgery.
"Speak for yourself," BJ murmured as another shell hit made itself known.
"Need some help, Beej?" Hawkeye asked.
"I'm just finishing, thanks anyway," BJ replied.
"Sirs!" Radar skidded into the OR. "You gotta come quick. It's the Supply Room, it's been hit!"
A few moments earlier: "Trapper," Margaret called into the room. "We don't need the plasma anymore. There's no more wounded."
"All right, I'll just put this back," Trapper called. He walked between the shelves, and found the space where he had taken the goods. As he replaced the containers, there was a huge thud and an explosion above him. The ceiling rained in on him, and the shelves and objects showered on him.
"Trapper!" Margaret screamed. She moved the heavy boxes off of him, and tried to check if he was hurt.
"Can you hear me?" she yelled at him.
"Me, and the rest of Korea," Trapper joked, but with difficulty through the pain.
"You're hurt," Margaret stated with concern.
Trapper didn't know what came over him. A mix of pain, light-headedness and love, but the only thing he could do was to kiss Margaret.
As he kissed her, all Trapper could think about was all the times he had been close to Margaret. The time she was attacked by Stanley Robbins, the plastic surgeon, and he comforted her afterwards. There was the time that he kissed her over the desk after she and Frank provided her with the evidence to get the Army to admit it was wrong. How about the time he kissed her before getting on the bus to Rainbow Bridge. All the times they had worked together, particularly when he had a long, difficult surgery, including an open-heart massage. She had been there for him every step of the way.
The time he remembered most was when they were in the Supply Room, when the camp had been bombed a previous time. That thought stuck in him mind for a long time.
When their lips finally parted, their look in their eyes said that what had just happened was right.
"You okay?" Trapper asked cautiously, more about the kiss than being trapped in the room.
"Only if you're okay. Are you?"
His heart-warming smile said it all.
As the two stared into each others eyes, they heard voices from outside.
"Margaret! Trapper!" The door burst open and Hawkeye peered into the room.
"Here!" Margaret called.
"Are you hurt?" Hawkeye asked.
"Not loads," Trapper said, trying not to wheeze.
"You'll be fine once we get out of here. Can you both walk?" On seeing them nod, Hawkeye said, "Good, I'm about to teach you how to run. Now go!"
The three of them scrambled out of shelter, but with the rib injuries, Trapper could not make it across the compound and collapsed in a crumpled heap, rasping for air.
Hawkeye looked back and saw his friend go down. "Trap," he muttered anxiously, going back for him. Margaret had already gone inside, ahead of him.
He crouched down on the ground next to him. "Always the big, silent, strong guy. You make a lousy patient," he muttered.
"And a frequent one," Trapper muttered. "I'm sorry all this stuff keeps… keeps happening to me, Hawk."
"You don't have to be sorry. But, don't worry, I think your reign of bad luck is over." Hawkeye unbuttoned Trapper's shirt to get a better look at the extent of the damage. "You see, bad luck comes in threes. You've had your three doses of it."
As Hawkeye talked, there was a look of excruciating pain on Trapper's face. Hawkeye saw it and became more concerned. "What? What is it?"
"Just painful."
"All right, I'll fix you up good as new. Don't go anywhere, okay?"
"Like where?"
"I don't know, the movies or something," Hawkeye joked.
"Hawk," Trapper began as he was loaded onto the stretcher.
"Yeah Trap? Anything?"
"Me and Margaret, in that room… tell her I love her."
"Consider it done," Hawkeye promised.
"He's going to be fine," Hawkeye assured Margaret for the third time. He was in the scrub room, talking to Margaret about Trapper's surgery. "The procedure was simple, and there were absolutely no problems."
"As long as you're sure," Margaret said, still not convinced.
Hawkeye rolled his eyes. "This is why I didn't let you into the OR." He softened. "I know how much you care about him."
"And you don't?" Margaret retorted.
"Sure I do, he's my best friend. I just don't care about him like you do. He left you a message, before he went in there."
"What? What did he say?"
"Not much, just that he loves you," Hawkeye teased.
Margaret, overcome by more emotion than she could account for, sat on the bench. Hawkeye sat beside her and embraced her.
"It's okay," he calmed her. "It's all right. Everything's gonna be all right."