Chapter 3
Radar did not know what to do with himself. Where could the bus be? He'd tried the radio, but got nothing, not even a crackle. He called the nearest places to the site of the crash, but apart from finding out they had left the site, he got nothing else.
"Sparky? Yeah, it's Radar again. Yeah, it's Radar again. Yeah, I know this is the hundredth time I called today, but just listen up. I need to check all the places along the road the bus took. Waddaya mean, what bus? The bus that should have been back three hours ago but isn't. Oh good, you remember the road. uhuh yeah. WHAT?! The road's been closed? Since when do they close roads in Korea? MPs, yeah, I know they block it with their jeeps, but why? Shelling? Oh boy. Thanks, Sparky. Yeah, yeah, you'll get your comic book back."
Radar helplessly dropped the receiver back into the box. That bus could be anywhere, on any road. And that's unless. no. Radar didn't dare think that there was a chance the bus was caught up in shelling. Was it possible?
"Radar," Henry called from his office as the clerk hurried into the room.
"You called, sir?"
"Where's the bus? Is it back yet?"
Radar sighed. "Still no sign on it yet, sir," he reported gravely.
"None?" Henry asked in disbelief.
"I've called everywhere, but their route's closed, due to heavy shelling. They could be anywhere. There's not a peep out of their radio," he added.
Henry sighed. "It's almost ten in the morning. They should be back by now!" Seeing Radar's exhausted demeanour, he asked, "didn't get much sleep last night?"
"Well, after they left in the evening, I wrote to my Ma, so I only got two hours sleep."
"Well, get some now, and that's an order," Henry commanded.
"Yes sir," Radar said.
Before Henry left for Post-Op duty, he decided that he had better update BJ on the situation, than suffer from the Captain's wrath of annoyance later.
He poked his head into the Swamp. "Are they back yet?" BJ, who had been laying down on his cot, sat up instantly the door opened. "What have you heard from them?"
"Nothing." It said it all.
"Nothing? No radio?"
"Radar is standing by. We'll let you know the minute we hear anything." Henry did not tell BJ that they had left the crash site hours before. BJ was new to the camp, and it was difficult for Henry to predict how the Captain would react. Judging from the character he had seen over the last few weeks, probably not well.
Hawkeye woke up in a daze. His head pounded terribly, and he was cold. He heard exploding noises, and turned around to see the bus was alight, flames licked away at the back part of the vehicle.
Ignoring the protests of his aching head, Hawkeye scrambled to his feet and ran to the bus. "What the hell are you doing?" Klinger called out, but to no avail.
Hawkeye did not know what he was doing, going onto a blazing bus. The head was so intense it ate at him. He crouched low, and saw Trapper one foot in front of him, lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. Not wasting a second searching for a pulse, Hawkeye took his friend from underneath the arms and dragged him off of and away from the bus.
Klinger and Ginger ran over to where Hawkeye was performing CPR. Ginger instantly joined him. Klinger sat, in shock. He couldn't get over what he had just seen. The bus. the bus he had just been on seconds before. Hawkeye went back on and got Trapper out. and then right before his eyes the bus exploded into a thousand pieces. Hawkeye and Ginger flinched, but Klinger couldn't move. He just sat still and cold as ice, not blinking, unable to take anything in.
"There," Hawkeye concluded after seeing a shuddering breath from Trapper. He glanced up at Klinger who was whiter than a sheet. "He's in shock." Ginger reacted quickly, and took off her jacket to wrap around the Corporal.
Ginger than began to fuss around Hawkeye. Wishing she had a first-aid bag, she ripped off the sleeve of her shirt and put it against Hawkeye's bleeding head. "Hold still," she said as he backed away.
"Is that clean?"
"Don't let the colour fool you," Ginger muttered, wondering how she was going to hold it there. She could only think of one way, and began to untie her bootlaces. She tied them around Hawkeye's head to hold the khaki bandage in place.
"Wow, bet I look great like this," Hawkeye said sarcastically.
"You wanna try and do better?" Ginger retorted.
Hawkeye regretted his words. "I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't be taking this out on anyone, least of all you."
"It's okay," she replied sincerely.
"Now that you've patched me up, let's see if you're okay," he began. He checked her over, and found little more than scratches that injured her.
Hawkeye hastily began to tend to Klinger whilst Ginger kept a close eye on Trapper's condition.
"I'm fine, sir," Klinger kept telling him. He was indeed feeling better, but Hawkeye's wasn't taking any chances.
"Rest," he persisted.
"But sir, it's broad daylight now, sir. We can't just stay here, but the side of the road. What are we going to do?"
Hawkeye realised that he would have to take charge. "Okay. Did anyone remember that little village we passed ten minutes before the shelling started? We'll head that way and see if there's anyone who knows the way to Ouijonbong."
"What about Cap'n McIntyre?" Klinger asked.
That posed a problem. "Tie two jackets together by the sleeves, put him on them and we'll carry him that way," Ginger suggested.
Hawkeye nodded, taking off his jacket. Klinger began to do the same, but he was stopped.
"We'll use mine," Ginger said, knowing that Klinger was still liable to show symptoms of shock.
Soon, they had a makeshift stretcher, as Hawkeye had found some branches to put through the arms of the jackets. "It's not strong, but it'll have to do," he said.
It was not easy to carry Trapper, but through taking turns they managed it. Five minutes away from the village, Trapper began to regain consciousness. Hawkeye and Klinger, who were carrying him at the time, set him on the ground.
"Trap?" Hawkeye began, crouching down beside him.
After a groan, Trapper asked, "Am I alive?"
"Yeah, you're okay," Hawkeye told him.
"How? How could I possibly be alive? Last thing I knew, a shell landed on the bus, I got up and it all went black. I thought, 'okay, this is it.' How the hell did I survive?"
"That dopey best friend of yours," Klinger said simply.
"You?" Trapper asked, looking at Hawkeye.
"It wasn't MacArthur," Hawkeye joked in a far from humorous atmosphere.
"You're mad," Trapper smiled. He began to get up, but protests forced him back down.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Getting up," Trapper replied, trying again. Then he stopped, as though he realised something. "What is that on your head?"
"Ginger's makeshift bandage. It's all the rage in Paris," Hawkeye explained, striking a pose. Meanwhile, Trapper had made it into a sitting position.
"Are you sure you're all right?" Klinger asked.
"Fine," Trapper replied. "In a minute, for an encore, you'll see me walk." He got unsteadily to his feet. After swaying for a moment, he took a few steps. "See, I can walk okay."
After retrieving their jackets from the stretcher, the four of them continued their journey to the village.
"Only another five minutes, I think," Hawkeye said, trying to give some encouragement to the group, himself included.
A few moments later, Ginger stopped dead. Her eyes were wide in disbelief.
"Ginger, what's up?"
Ginger could only point. The Korean village they had passed not even two hours ago was now nothing more than charred and battered pieces of remains.
All of them stared. Their last hope disappeared. They were stuck. No food, no shelter, and next to no hope.
"I hate war," Hawkeye murmured.
Radar did not know what to do with himself. Where could the bus be? He'd tried the radio, but got nothing, not even a crackle. He called the nearest places to the site of the crash, but apart from finding out they had left the site, he got nothing else.
"Sparky? Yeah, it's Radar again. Yeah, it's Radar again. Yeah, I know this is the hundredth time I called today, but just listen up. I need to check all the places along the road the bus took. Waddaya mean, what bus? The bus that should have been back three hours ago but isn't. Oh good, you remember the road. uhuh yeah. WHAT?! The road's been closed? Since when do they close roads in Korea? MPs, yeah, I know they block it with their jeeps, but why? Shelling? Oh boy. Thanks, Sparky. Yeah, yeah, you'll get your comic book back."
Radar helplessly dropped the receiver back into the box. That bus could be anywhere, on any road. And that's unless. no. Radar didn't dare think that there was a chance the bus was caught up in shelling. Was it possible?
"Radar," Henry called from his office as the clerk hurried into the room.
"You called, sir?"
"Where's the bus? Is it back yet?"
Radar sighed. "Still no sign on it yet, sir," he reported gravely.
"None?" Henry asked in disbelief.
"I've called everywhere, but their route's closed, due to heavy shelling. They could be anywhere. There's not a peep out of their radio," he added.
Henry sighed. "It's almost ten in the morning. They should be back by now!" Seeing Radar's exhausted demeanour, he asked, "didn't get much sleep last night?"
"Well, after they left in the evening, I wrote to my Ma, so I only got two hours sleep."
"Well, get some now, and that's an order," Henry commanded.
"Yes sir," Radar said.
Before Henry left for Post-Op duty, he decided that he had better update BJ on the situation, than suffer from the Captain's wrath of annoyance later.
He poked his head into the Swamp. "Are they back yet?" BJ, who had been laying down on his cot, sat up instantly the door opened. "What have you heard from them?"
"Nothing." It said it all.
"Nothing? No radio?"
"Radar is standing by. We'll let you know the minute we hear anything." Henry did not tell BJ that they had left the crash site hours before. BJ was new to the camp, and it was difficult for Henry to predict how the Captain would react. Judging from the character he had seen over the last few weeks, probably not well.
Hawkeye woke up in a daze. His head pounded terribly, and he was cold. He heard exploding noises, and turned around to see the bus was alight, flames licked away at the back part of the vehicle.
Ignoring the protests of his aching head, Hawkeye scrambled to his feet and ran to the bus. "What the hell are you doing?" Klinger called out, but to no avail.
Hawkeye did not know what he was doing, going onto a blazing bus. The head was so intense it ate at him. He crouched low, and saw Trapper one foot in front of him, lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. Not wasting a second searching for a pulse, Hawkeye took his friend from underneath the arms and dragged him off of and away from the bus.
Klinger and Ginger ran over to where Hawkeye was performing CPR. Ginger instantly joined him. Klinger sat, in shock. He couldn't get over what he had just seen. The bus. the bus he had just been on seconds before. Hawkeye went back on and got Trapper out. and then right before his eyes the bus exploded into a thousand pieces. Hawkeye and Ginger flinched, but Klinger couldn't move. He just sat still and cold as ice, not blinking, unable to take anything in.
"There," Hawkeye concluded after seeing a shuddering breath from Trapper. He glanced up at Klinger who was whiter than a sheet. "He's in shock." Ginger reacted quickly, and took off her jacket to wrap around the Corporal.
Ginger than began to fuss around Hawkeye. Wishing she had a first-aid bag, she ripped off the sleeve of her shirt and put it against Hawkeye's bleeding head. "Hold still," she said as he backed away.
"Is that clean?"
"Don't let the colour fool you," Ginger muttered, wondering how she was going to hold it there. She could only think of one way, and began to untie her bootlaces. She tied them around Hawkeye's head to hold the khaki bandage in place.
"Wow, bet I look great like this," Hawkeye said sarcastically.
"You wanna try and do better?" Ginger retorted.
Hawkeye regretted his words. "I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't be taking this out on anyone, least of all you."
"It's okay," she replied sincerely.
"Now that you've patched me up, let's see if you're okay," he began. He checked her over, and found little more than scratches that injured her.
Hawkeye hastily began to tend to Klinger whilst Ginger kept a close eye on Trapper's condition.
"I'm fine, sir," Klinger kept telling him. He was indeed feeling better, but Hawkeye's wasn't taking any chances.
"Rest," he persisted.
"But sir, it's broad daylight now, sir. We can't just stay here, but the side of the road. What are we going to do?"
Hawkeye realised that he would have to take charge. "Okay. Did anyone remember that little village we passed ten minutes before the shelling started? We'll head that way and see if there's anyone who knows the way to Ouijonbong."
"What about Cap'n McIntyre?" Klinger asked.
That posed a problem. "Tie two jackets together by the sleeves, put him on them and we'll carry him that way," Ginger suggested.
Hawkeye nodded, taking off his jacket. Klinger began to do the same, but he was stopped.
"We'll use mine," Ginger said, knowing that Klinger was still liable to show symptoms of shock.
Soon, they had a makeshift stretcher, as Hawkeye had found some branches to put through the arms of the jackets. "It's not strong, but it'll have to do," he said.
It was not easy to carry Trapper, but through taking turns they managed it. Five minutes away from the village, Trapper began to regain consciousness. Hawkeye and Klinger, who were carrying him at the time, set him on the ground.
"Trap?" Hawkeye began, crouching down beside him.
After a groan, Trapper asked, "Am I alive?"
"Yeah, you're okay," Hawkeye told him.
"How? How could I possibly be alive? Last thing I knew, a shell landed on the bus, I got up and it all went black. I thought, 'okay, this is it.' How the hell did I survive?"
"That dopey best friend of yours," Klinger said simply.
"You?" Trapper asked, looking at Hawkeye.
"It wasn't MacArthur," Hawkeye joked in a far from humorous atmosphere.
"You're mad," Trapper smiled. He began to get up, but protests forced him back down.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Getting up," Trapper replied, trying again. Then he stopped, as though he realised something. "What is that on your head?"
"Ginger's makeshift bandage. It's all the rage in Paris," Hawkeye explained, striking a pose. Meanwhile, Trapper had made it into a sitting position.
"Are you sure you're all right?" Klinger asked.
"Fine," Trapper replied. "In a minute, for an encore, you'll see me walk." He got unsteadily to his feet. After swaying for a moment, he took a few steps. "See, I can walk okay."
After retrieving their jackets from the stretcher, the four of them continued their journey to the village.
"Only another five minutes, I think," Hawkeye said, trying to give some encouragement to the group, himself included.
A few moments later, Ginger stopped dead. Her eyes were wide in disbelief.
"Ginger, what's up?"
Ginger could only point. The Korean village they had passed not even two hours ago was now nothing more than charred and battered pieces of remains.
All of them stared. Their last hope disappeared. They were stuck. No food, no shelter, and next to no hope.
"I hate war," Hawkeye murmured.