Part 6
There, Klinger thought to himself. Some closure. His dresses were safely stowed away. Now, in search of some more, possibly full closure, he made his way to Father Mulcahy's tent.
"Come in," the Father said on hearing the knock. He had expected a possible visitor due to recent events, and he was at hand to help. When he saw Klinger walk in, in uniform, he wondered whether he would be qualified enough to help.
"Hi, Father," Klinger greeted.
"Klinger, my son, have a seat," Mulcahy gestured.
"Thanks. I wondered if I could talk to you, if you're not busy."
"I'm never too busy to listen to anyone. What's on your mind?"
"Well, you see, Father, the last couple of days have been crazy, and really shook me up, but it got me thinking."
"Go on," Father Mulcahy encouraged.
"Well, I saw this war from a new angle. Close up. Too close, if you ask me, but boy did I see it. Made me see how lucky I am to be at this end of it, when I could be somewhere much worse. Basically, I'm going to put up with what I got, hang up my Section Eight dresses, and try and be a real soldier."
Father Mulcahy was stunned. I think he has finally gone mad, he thought to himself. "Klinger, I can see your ordeal has affected you, but for seemingly good reasons. May I make one suggestion, though?"
"Sure, what's that?"
"Don't hang up all your dresses. This war needs to have some character, and you provide some of it."
Klinger smiled. "Thanks for listening, Father."
"Anytime," he replied, as Klinger left with less of that weight that had been on his shoulders.
Ginger, meanwhile, was for some reason directed to the Swamp, via the voice of the PA announcer. When she got there, she found Henry, BJ, Hawkeye, Trapper, Radar, Margaret, Klinger, Father Mulcahy, and an assortment of nurses that were considered to be close friends.
She never had any time to ask any questions, as she was whisked into a chair and approached by Henry and Margaret.
Henry cleared his throat. "By the powers invested in my by the President of the United States of America, President Harry Truman, I award you, Lieutenant Ginger Bayliss, the Purple Heart, for being wounded in combat." Henry gave the medal to Margaret, who pinned it onto her shirt.
"A medal? For falling off a cart?" Ginger whispered in amazement.
"There's more," Hawkeye forewarned her.
"During the recent events, you have shown your efficiency, dedication, and most importantly, your bravery. You have exceptionally proven yourself, and through our recognition of this, we at the M*A*S*H 4077th have voted unanimously to promote you to Captain." Henry pinned the Captain's bars onto her uniform. "I now pronounce you Captain Ginger Bayliss."
"Watch out, Father, he's after your job," Hawkeye whispered.
"A toast!" Trapper called out, handing around drinks.
"To Captain Bayliss,"
"Without whom, me and two other Captains might now be here today," Klinger finished.
"Here, here!"
"Hey, Hunnicutt," Henry called over the room as he waded through the crowds of people.
BJ winced. He had a feeling that Henry was not going to be happy with him, based on his recent behaviour.
"Yes, sir?" BJ asked meekly.
Henry swallowed. "I want to apologise." He ignored BJ's gaping mouth as he continued. "You should not have done that surgery in that condition, and you knew that, but I handled it very badly. I couldn't comprehend what you were going through. Forgive me?"
"Only if you forgive me for yelling at you."
Henry nodded, smiling. The difference between being a good CO and a great CO was how well you interacted with the people in your unit. No matter what Frank and Margaret used to say, Henry was a great CO.
During this, Ginger walked up to Hawkeye. "Why do I think you had something to do with this?"
"What? You getting a medal and a promotion?"
"Yeah, that. You did, didn't you?"
"No. Not me at all. You earned them both. You proved to everyone that you don't need to be a guy with freckles to be brave."
"Thanks, Hawkeye." She gave him a hug. They had become equals and friends in one relatively short journey.
After the party, Trapper and Margaret headed back to her tent. It was their first chance to really talk since that journey. They sat on her bed and just took a moment to be in each other's company again.
"I never want you to go through that again," Margaret said finally.
Trapper squeezed her hand. "You're not the only one. I spent the nights dreaming about you. Those dreams weren't so great," he admitted. "I thought I'd never see you again."
Margaret leaned into him. "Don't worry, honey. You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you."
Trapper looked fondly at her. "When I was away, I thought about us a lot. I took you for granted. If I ever do that again, just remind me of the last few days, okay?"
Margaret looked faintly surprised. "You know, I thought the same thing. If I even lost you, God forbid, I wouldn't know what to do."
"I'll draw you a map," Trapper replied, and kissed the top of her head.
The End
There, Klinger thought to himself. Some closure. His dresses were safely stowed away. Now, in search of some more, possibly full closure, he made his way to Father Mulcahy's tent.
"Come in," the Father said on hearing the knock. He had expected a possible visitor due to recent events, and he was at hand to help. When he saw Klinger walk in, in uniform, he wondered whether he would be qualified enough to help.
"Hi, Father," Klinger greeted.
"Klinger, my son, have a seat," Mulcahy gestured.
"Thanks. I wondered if I could talk to you, if you're not busy."
"I'm never too busy to listen to anyone. What's on your mind?"
"Well, you see, Father, the last couple of days have been crazy, and really shook me up, but it got me thinking."
"Go on," Father Mulcahy encouraged.
"Well, I saw this war from a new angle. Close up. Too close, if you ask me, but boy did I see it. Made me see how lucky I am to be at this end of it, when I could be somewhere much worse. Basically, I'm going to put up with what I got, hang up my Section Eight dresses, and try and be a real soldier."
Father Mulcahy was stunned. I think he has finally gone mad, he thought to himself. "Klinger, I can see your ordeal has affected you, but for seemingly good reasons. May I make one suggestion, though?"
"Sure, what's that?"
"Don't hang up all your dresses. This war needs to have some character, and you provide some of it."
Klinger smiled. "Thanks for listening, Father."
"Anytime," he replied, as Klinger left with less of that weight that had been on his shoulders.
Ginger, meanwhile, was for some reason directed to the Swamp, via the voice of the PA announcer. When she got there, she found Henry, BJ, Hawkeye, Trapper, Radar, Margaret, Klinger, Father Mulcahy, and an assortment of nurses that were considered to be close friends.
She never had any time to ask any questions, as she was whisked into a chair and approached by Henry and Margaret.
Henry cleared his throat. "By the powers invested in my by the President of the United States of America, President Harry Truman, I award you, Lieutenant Ginger Bayliss, the Purple Heart, for being wounded in combat." Henry gave the medal to Margaret, who pinned it onto her shirt.
"A medal? For falling off a cart?" Ginger whispered in amazement.
"There's more," Hawkeye forewarned her.
"During the recent events, you have shown your efficiency, dedication, and most importantly, your bravery. You have exceptionally proven yourself, and through our recognition of this, we at the M*A*S*H 4077th have voted unanimously to promote you to Captain." Henry pinned the Captain's bars onto her uniform. "I now pronounce you Captain Ginger Bayliss."
"Watch out, Father, he's after your job," Hawkeye whispered.
"A toast!" Trapper called out, handing around drinks.
"To Captain Bayliss,"
"Without whom, me and two other Captains might now be here today," Klinger finished.
"Here, here!"
"Hey, Hunnicutt," Henry called over the room as he waded through the crowds of people.
BJ winced. He had a feeling that Henry was not going to be happy with him, based on his recent behaviour.
"Yes, sir?" BJ asked meekly.
Henry swallowed. "I want to apologise." He ignored BJ's gaping mouth as he continued. "You should not have done that surgery in that condition, and you knew that, but I handled it very badly. I couldn't comprehend what you were going through. Forgive me?"
"Only if you forgive me for yelling at you."
Henry nodded, smiling. The difference between being a good CO and a great CO was how well you interacted with the people in your unit. No matter what Frank and Margaret used to say, Henry was a great CO.
During this, Ginger walked up to Hawkeye. "Why do I think you had something to do with this?"
"What? You getting a medal and a promotion?"
"Yeah, that. You did, didn't you?"
"No. Not me at all. You earned them both. You proved to everyone that you don't need to be a guy with freckles to be brave."
"Thanks, Hawkeye." She gave him a hug. They had become equals and friends in one relatively short journey.
After the party, Trapper and Margaret headed back to her tent. It was their first chance to really talk since that journey. They sat on her bed and just took a moment to be in each other's company again.
"I never want you to go through that again," Margaret said finally.
Trapper squeezed her hand. "You're not the only one. I spent the nights dreaming about you. Those dreams weren't so great," he admitted. "I thought I'd never see you again."
Margaret leaned into him. "Don't worry, honey. You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you."
Trapper looked fondly at her. "When I was away, I thought about us a lot. I took you for granted. If I ever do that again, just remind me of the last few days, okay?"
Margaret looked faintly surprised. "You know, I thought the same thing. If I even lost you, God forbid, I wouldn't know what to do."
"I'll draw you a map," Trapper replied, and kissed the top of her head.
The End