A/N: Thank you to everyone who gave me feedback. It was appreciated beyond
belief!
Meanwhile, Frank stormed off in a blind rage. What those two degenerates were doing was beyond sick. He needed to vent, so he visited Margaret. He barged in, but Margaret, upon seeing his state, didn't bother to rebuke him. She put down the bleach she was using on her root and went into comfort mode. "What's the matter darling?"
Frank was to enraged to put together a proper sentence. "Those. . .degenerates."
"What've McIntyre and Pierce done now?"
"They are breaking regulations."
"How Frank?" Margaret was starting to get impatient.
"I found them sleeping together."
Margaret recoiled, "Surely your mistaken dearest?"
"No, they were in the same cot."
Margaret relaxed, "Frank, darling, that doesn't make them homosexuals."
This was all too much for Frank. He knew what he had seen, but nobody wanted to believe him. Those two were a disgrace t America and to the medical profession, and it was up to Frank to set things right. He couldn't face going back to the Swamp and seeing those animals. He opted to go and sleep in the vacant VIP tent. As he lay there in the dark, trying to sleep, his mind drifted.
He was back in his childhood room. There was a quiet knock on his door. Frank knew who it. He curled into the fetal position, praying they would go away. The door opened slowly and his father came in and sat on his bed. "Come here Franky," he cooed softly, his voice cold and filled with malice.
Frank cowered, after all this time, still terrified and confused. Why did his father do this to him? Why him?
The sound of choppers jolted Frank back to present. He got up, trembling, half expecting the spectre of his father in the tent with him. He tried to gather his wits and took off towards the chopper pads.
Hawkeye and Trapper met Frank at the chopper pads. They knew better than to mention the events of the previous day. Even they had their limits over how much torture they could dish out.
It was a reasonably small load of patients, only 14 hours of meat ball surgery. When it was finished though, they were beyond exhaustion. In the past 48 hours, they had done a 23 hour shift and this one. There had been a 3 hour break between the two, but for all the surgeons it had been a very busy three hours. Radar's voice came over the PA, "No more casualties expected for at least 48 hours. All surgical shifts, please stand down." Slowly but surely, everyone made his or her way to bed.
After 10 hours of being all but comatose, Hawkeye and Trapper woke up. "Good morning doctor," Hawkeye greeted Trapper chirpily.
"It's morning?" Trapper asked still adjusting to being awake.
"Yup, 9 am to be exact."
"What day?"
"That I'm not to sure about."
"Let's find out on the way to the Mess Tent. Even purple coffee and scrambled egg cartons sound good now."
"Bet you won't be saying that when you see the supposed food."
"You're probably right."
"Where's Frank?"
"Knock Before Entering?"
"Probably." Hawkeye went over and sat next to Trapper, who was putting his boots on. He gave him a light kiss on the cheek. Trapper looked up and gave him that heart-melting grin.
Trapper returned it with a light kiss on the lips. "Breakfast now, fun later."
Hawkeye looked a little disappointed then felt a sharp hunger pain. "Good plan, shall we?" he asked bowing.
"Thank you, kind sir, I think we shall."
"Then I think we should have a picnic lunch."
"Yes, in a nice quiet, secluded field."
"This day just gets better." They made their way over to the Mess Tent, and got some World War 2 surplus porridge and World War 3 bananas.
They sat with Henry, "Good morning o fearless leader. How are we this fine morning?"
"Yeah, and where is your 5 foot shadow?"
Henry just looked at them, "Fine, Radar's finishing up the tomorrows duty roster, he'll be here soon. How's Frank this morning?"
Trapper looked serious, "We don't know. He didn't come home last night.
Radar chose then to show up, "Good morning sirs."
Hawkeye looked up from his so-called food. "Radar, do you talk to your mother with that mouth."
Radar looked confused, "Yes sir. It's the only one I've got."
"How many times do I have to tell you, I am not a sir."
"Oh, sorry sir."
Hawkeye rolled his eyes and went back to his food.
After digesting as much of their meal as possible, Hawkeye and Trapper had to go on duty. A few miserable hours later they came off, feeling the pressure. "Methinks me needs a martini before our little outing," Hawkeye complained.
"Is Radar scrounging some food for us?"
"You wanted food?"
Trapper handed him a martini, "Do you have a better suggestion?"
Hawkeye grinned, "Maybe."
"I think I like your idea better, but just get a little food, so we don't starve."
"As you wish. I'll go ask Radar while prepare me the worlds driest martini."
"Deal."
Meanwhile, Frank stormed off in a blind rage. What those two degenerates were doing was beyond sick. He needed to vent, so he visited Margaret. He barged in, but Margaret, upon seeing his state, didn't bother to rebuke him. She put down the bleach she was using on her root and went into comfort mode. "What's the matter darling?"
Frank was to enraged to put together a proper sentence. "Those. . .degenerates."
"What've McIntyre and Pierce done now?"
"They are breaking regulations."
"How Frank?" Margaret was starting to get impatient.
"I found them sleeping together."
Margaret recoiled, "Surely your mistaken dearest?"
"No, they were in the same cot."
Margaret relaxed, "Frank, darling, that doesn't make them homosexuals."
This was all too much for Frank. He knew what he had seen, but nobody wanted to believe him. Those two were a disgrace t America and to the medical profession, and it was up to Frank to set things right. He couldn't face going back to the Swamp and seeing those animals. He opted to go and sleep in the vacant VIP tent. As he lay there in the dark, trying to sleep, his mind drifted.
He was back in his childhood room. There was a quiet knock on his door. Frank knew who it. He curled into the fetal position, praying they would go away. The door opened slowly and his father came in and sat on his bed. "Come here Franky," he cooed softly, his voice cold and filled with malice.
Frank cowered, after all this time, still terrified and confused. Why did his father do this to him? Why him?
The sound of choppers jolted Frank back to present. He got up, trembling, half expecting the spectre of his father in the tent with him. He tried to gather his wits and took off towards the chopper pads.
Hawkeye and Trapper met Frank at the chopper pads. They knew better than to mention the events of the previous day. Even they had their limits over how much torture they could dish out.
It was a reasonably small load of patients, only 14 hours of meat ball surgery. When it was finished though, they were beyond exhaustion. In the past 48 hours, they had done a 23 hour shift and this one. There had been a 3 hour break between the two, but for all the surgeons it had been a very busy three hours. Radar's voice came over the PA, "No more casualties expected for at least 48 hours. All surgical shifts, please stand down." Slowly but surely, everyone made his or her way to bed.
After 10 hours of being all but comatose, Hawkeye and Trapper woke up. "Good morning doctor," Hawkeye greeted Trapper chirpily.
"It's morning?" Trapper asked still adjusting to being awake.
"Yup, 9 am to be exact."
"What day?"
"That I'm not to sure about."
"Let's find out on the way to the Mess Tent. Even purple coffee and scrambled egg cartons sound good now."
"Bet you won't be saying that when you see the supposed food."
"You're probably right."
"Where's Frank?"
"Knock Before Entering?"
"Probably." Hawkeye went over and sat next to Trapper, who was putting his boots on. He gave him a light kiss on the cheek. Trapper looked up and gave him that heart-melting grin.
Trapper returned it with a light kiss on the lips. "Breakfast now, fun later."
Hawkeye looked a little disappointed then felt a sharp hunger pain. "Good plan, shall we?" he asked bowing.
"Thank you, kind sir, I think we shall."
"Then I think we should have a picnic lunch."
"Yes, in a nice quiet, secluded field."
"This day just gets better." They made their way over to the Mess Tent, and got some World War 2 surplus porridge and World War 3 bananas.
They sat with Henry, "Good morning o fearless leader. How are we this fine morning?"
"Yeah, and where is your 5 foot shadow?"
Henry just looked at them, "Fine, Radar's finishing up the tomorrows duty roster, he'll be here soon. How's Frank this morning?"
Trapper looked serious, "We don't know. He didn't come home last night.
Radar chose then to show up, "Good morning sirs."
Hawkeye looked up from his so-called food. "Radar, do you talk to your mother with that mouth."
Radar looked confused, "Yes sir. It's the only one I've got."
"How many times do I have to tell you, I am not a sir."
"Oh, sorry sir."
Hawkeye rolled his eyes and went back to his food.
After digesting as much of their meal as possible, Hawkeye and Trapper had to go on duty. A few miserable hours later they came off, feeling the pressure. "Methinks me needs a martini before our little outing," Hawkeye complained.
"Is Radar scrounging some food for us?"
"You wanted food?"
Trapper handed him a martini, "Do you have a better suggestion?"
Hawkeye grinned, "Maybe."
"I think I like your idea better, but just get a little food, so we don't starve."
"As you wish. I'll go ask Radar while prepare me the worlds driest martini."
"Deal."