Chapter 5
Colonel Potter sat and talked to me for a while before I heard Hawkeye rush back in. The Colonel obviously saw the look on Hawkeye's face before he said anything.
"You look as happy as a stud just gone into the field," Potter remarked. "You got good news?"
"Radar here found that guy with the disease," Hawkeye explained brightly. "In one of the hospitals outside of Tokyo. They have a cure, and they're sending it to us."
I heard Potter whoop with joy, and several of the people in the hospital do the same. I heard Hawkeye retake his post beside me. "You hear that, Beej? In a week or so, you'll be back and seeing what a dump this place is."
I stuck my tongue to add to the sarcastic effect on my face, causing Hawkeye to laugh. That's another thing I missed over the last few days. Hawkeye hadn't laughed, and except for surgery and getting drunk, laughing was what Hawkeye did best.
"The medicine will take two days to get here, and another two weeks before you make a full recovery," Potter explained after receiving the details from Radar.
"Hey, what's all the hoo-ha in here?" I heard Frank say.
"We've found the cure for BJ's illness," Sherman explained.
Frank must have sniffed or pulled some kind of face or something, because even Major Houlihan gave him a piece of her mind.
"Major Burns, when one of our colleagues, one of our friends, is very ill, I'd have thought that a compassionate doctor such as yourself would show a little kindness." She may think she's as tough as old boots, but I think me getting ill really rattled some humanity out of her. She'd not said anything negative to Hawkeye since I got ill, for a start.
I searched for Hawkeye's hand, and wrote on it, "DOCTOR?" Hawkeye roared with laughter. It was a standing joke, of course, but after not joking for five days, it becomes fresh all over again.
Finally the medicine came, and I was started on it straight away. It brought the fever down, and with that went the delirium and some of the nausea. Also, my fits stopped.
Hawkeye helped me write a letter to Peg after he read out her latest one to me. It took a long, long time, because I had the write the general picture of it on Hawkeye's hand. It got a bit frustrating, but it finally turned out okay.
One day, I told Hawkeye that I wanted to go for a walk, because being bedridden for almost two weeks (barring my excursion to the Swamp) was getting to be tedious.
"Where do you want to walk to?" Hawkeye asked as I began to ease myself out of bed. I tried to stand up too fast and he had to grab me quickly to stop me falling over.
I found his hand and wrote "AROUND" on it. He understood that I just wanted to stretch my legs. With his help I moved out of the hospital and into the compound.
I could hear some kind of activity to my right. I guessed it was the nurses playing volleyball.
"There's a game of volleyball over there," Hawkeye informed me, seeing my head in what must have been that direction. "Man, I never realised how good Lieutenant Vickers looks in shorts, especially at dusk."
I smiled. Trust Hawkeye to paint a tempting picture.
The sound of the volleyball game was not the only thing I could hear. I just ignored it. It could have been anything.
"Wanna know what's on the bulletin board, except for the lingerie," Hawkeye added.
I nodded as he continued. "Well, for some reason, a meeting to discuss Klinger's sanity was held yesterday. What's to discuss? Next, someone's lined up a cockroach race next week. Bring two representatives per tent." I thought about the two hundred that could have entered from the Swamp, Frank included.
"Someone's written a dirty poem about Majors Burns and Houlihan and posted it here," Hawkeye read. "I won't read it, you're the only one in this camp with any innocence, except for Radar of course," Hawkeye chuckled.
I walked some more over the camp. Just being out of bed was a relief. Then, I remembered the noise I had heard earlier. I could still hear it, but it was much louder, and much closer. It was only when I heard it about ten metres away from me that I realised what it was. We were being shelled!
I tugged at Hawkeye's sleeve, but he already knew. I think he was working out what to do, whether it would be safe enough to take me back to Post-Op. That thought was blown apart when a shell landed behind us, under ten metres away.
Hawkeye literally pulled me somewhere. I heard a door open and shut, and the noise was less. Where were we?
"We're being shelled and we're in the Supply Tent for the moment," Hawkeye explained, almost reading my mind. The first part I had worked out for myself.
He led me over to a cot at the back of the tent and I sat on it. I don't know what he did, but I never thought anymore of it. My thoughts were broken when I heard a booming noise that could have been on top of me. Shards of something, wood probably, rained down on me and I put my arms over my head for protection.
When the shaking stopped, Hawkeye crunched his way through what was on the floor. "Are you okay?" he asked me.
I looked up and nodded. He crunched back and I heard some more banging, getting more and more furious by the second. Then mutterings, "Come on, come on," Hawkeye kept repeating.
My head went up to see what was going on, out of habit, and I almost fell back out of surprise. It was blurred like looking through an ice-cube, and a lot darker, but I could see! Sort of, anyway. At least there was a slight definition between light and dark that I could make out. I wanted to shout aloud and tell Hawkeye, until I remembered I had no voice.
Speaking of Hawkeye, he had his own difficulties at that moment. Breathing fast and heavily, he gasped. "The door's stuck," he groaned. "We're trapped, Beej, we're trapped!"
How was I meant to calm and reassure Hawkeye with no voice? I could hear him pacing around the place as the bombs kept going off outside. I tried to make my way to Hawkeye but it was difficult, and I kept walking into things. All the time he kept muttering.
I knew the symptoms; he didn't have to tell me he was claustrophobic. He did anyway, though. "Beej," he came up to me and grabbed me by my shirt. "Beej, you gotta help me, you gotta get me out of here!"
I shook my head and he roared and pushed my away. I stumbled back into one of the shelves and collapsed on the floor. I only had one moment to gasp before I heard crashing and the huge weight of the metal shelf and its goods crushed me beneath it.
Colonel Potter sat and talked to me for a while before I heard Hawkeye rush back in. The Colonel obviously saw the look on Hawkeye's face before he said anything.
"You look as happy as a stud just gone into the field," Potter remarked. "You got good news?"
"Radar here found that guy with the disease," Hawkeye explained brightly. "In one of the hospitals outside of Tokyo. They have a cure, and they're sending it to us."
I heard Potter whoop with joy, and several of the people in the hospital do the same. I heard Hawkeye retake his post beside me. "You hear that, Beej? In a week or so, you'll be back and seeing what a dump this place is."
I stuck my tongue to add to the sarcastic effect on my face, causing Hawkeye to laugh. That's another thing I missed over the last few days. Hawkeye hadn't laughed, and except for surgery and getting drunk, laughing was what Hawkeye did best.
"The medicine will take two days to get here, and another two weeks before you make a full recovery," Potter explained after receiving the details from Radar.
"Hey, what's all the hoo-ha in here?" I heard Frank say.
"We've found the cure for BJ's illness," Sherman explained.
Frank must have sniffed or pulled some kind of face or something, because even Major Houlihan gave him a piece of her mind.
"Major Burns, when one of our colleagues, one of our friends, is very ill, I'd have thought that a compassionate doctor such as yourself would show a little kindness." She may think she's as tough as old boots, but I think me getting ill really rattled some humanity out of her. She'd not said anything negative to Hawkeye since I got ill, for a start.
I searched for Hawkeye's hand, and wrote on it, "DOCTOR?" Hawkeye roared with laughter. It was a standing joke, of course, but after not joking for five days, it becomes fresh all over again.
Finally the medicine came, and I was started on it straight away. It brought the fever down, and with that went the delirium and some of the nausea. Also, my fits stopped.
Hawkeye helped me write a letter to Peg after he read out her latest one to me. It took a long, long time, because I had the write the general picture of it on Hawkeye's hand. It got a bit frustrating, but it finally turned out okay.
One day, I told Hawkeye that I wanted to go for a walk, because being bedridden for almost two weeks (barring my excursion to the Swamp) was getting to be tedious.
"Where do you want to walk to?" Hawkeye asked as I began to ease myself out of bed. I tried to stand up too fast and he had to grab me quickly to stop me falling over.
I found his hand and wrote "AROUND" on it. He understood that I just wanted to stretch my legs. With his help I moved out of the hospital and into the compound.
I could hear some kind of activity to my right. I guessed it was the nurses playing volleyball.
"There's a game of volleyball over there," Hawkeye informed me, seeing my head in what must have been that direction. "Man, I never realised how good Lieutenant Vickers looks in shorts, especially at dusk."
I smiled. Trust Hawkeye to paint a tempting picture.
The sound of the volleyball game was not the only thing I could hear. I just ignored it. It could have been anything.
"Wanna know what's on the bulletin board, except for the lingerie," Hawkeye added.
I nodded as he continued. "Well, for some reason, a meeting to discuss Klinger's sanity was held yesterday. What's to discuss? Next, someone's lined up a cockroach race next week. Bring two representatives per tent." I thought about the two hundred that could have entered from the Swamp, Frank included.
"Someone's written a dirty poem about Majors Burns and Houlihan and posted it here," Hawkeye read. "I won't read it, you're the only one in this camp with any innocence, except for Radar of course," Hawkeye chuckled.
I walked some more over the camp. Just being out of bed was a relief. Then, I remembered the noise I had heard earlier. I could still hear it, but it was much louder, and much closer. It was only when I heard it about ten metres away from me that I realised what it was. We were being shelled!
I tugged at Hawkeye's sleeve, but he already knew. I think he was working out what to do, whether it would be safe enough to take me back to Post-Op. That thought was blown apart when a shell landed behind us, under ten metres away.
Hawkeye literally pulled me somewhere. I heard a door open and shut, and the noise was less. Where were we?
"We're being shelled and we're in the Supply Tent for the moment," Hawkeye explained, almost reading my mind. The first part I had worked out for myself.
He led me over to a cot at the back of the tent and I sat on it. I don't know what he did, but I never thought anymore of it. My thoughts were broken when I heard a booming noise that could have been on top of me. Shards of something, wood probably, rained down on me and I put my arms over my head for protection.
When the shaking stopped, Hawkeye crunched his way through what was on the floor. "Are you okay?" he asked me.
I looked up and nodded. He crunched back and I heard some more banging, getting more and more furious by the second. Then mutterings, "Come on, come on," Hawkeye kept repeating.
My head went up to see what was going on, out of habit, and I almost fell back out of surprise. It was blurred like looking through an ice-cube, and a lot darker, but I could see! Sort of, anyway. At least there was a slight definition between light and dark that I could make out. I wanted to shout aloud and tell Hawkeye, until I remembered I had no voice.
Speaking of Hawkeye, he had his own difficulties at that moment. Breathing fast and heavily, he gasped. "The door's stuck," he groaned. "We're trapped, Beej, we're trapped!"
How was I meant to calm and reassure Hawkeye with no voice? I could hear him pacing around the place as the bombs kept going off outside. I tried to make my way to Hawkeye but it was difficult, and I kept walking into things. All the time he kept muttering.
I knew the symptoms; he didn't have to tell me he was claustrophobic. He did anyway, though. "Beej," he came up to me and grabbed me by my shirt. "Beej, you gotta help me, you gotta get me out of here!"
I shook my head and he roared and pushed my away. I stumbled back into one of the shelves and collapsed on the floor. I only had one moment to gasp before I heard crashing and the huge weight of the metal shelf and its goods crushed me beneath it.