"Oh . . . oh, Hawkeye, you're a terrific kisser."
"Am I better than your husband?"
"Hell, yeah. . ."
Hawkeye and a certain nurse were sitting on Hawk's cot in the Swamp. Actually, sitting isn't quite the right word . . . Hawkeye lying on top of her is more like it.
Radar saw them through the mesh. He hesitated, and then knocked on the Swamp door. "Uh, sir?"
The nurse gasped and quickly shoved Hawkeye onto the floor. "Supply tent, tomorrow night?" Hawkeye asked hopefully. She nodded and left, holding the door open for Radar.
"What I can do ya for, squirt?"
Radar glared at Hawk, and then cleared his throat. "Well, I kinda need your help, sir." "Can't reach the nurse to kiss her? This is the VERY last time I'm lifting you up." Radar glared again. "Actually, it's Colonel Herring. Y'see, I want to go to Seoul to see Colonel Blake. The problem is, I really don't like to talk to Colonel Herring. So. . ."
". . . You want me to ask him, that about right?" Hawkeye asked, getting up off the floor. Radar nodded. "All right, c'mon."
The two crossed the dark compound and entered the CO's office, where Herring was reading a book. It was All Quiet on the Western Front. Figured.
Hawk cleared his throat, and Herring looked up irritably. "What the hell do you want, Captain?" "Actually, it's more like: what the hell does Radar want?" "Don't get cute with me!"
Hawkeye rolled his eyes, both shut of course so Herring didn't see. "Radar wants to go to Seoul to visit Henry."
No response from Herring.
Hawk massaged his left temple. "Okay, I'll put it into terms you might understand. Corporal O'Reilly wishes to go to Seoul as Lieutenant Colonel Blake is in a hospital there, and the corporal would like to visit him." He mentally shuddered at how . . . military that sounded.
Colonel Herring looked thoughtful, and for a minute Radar hoped he would step out of character and let him go.
"Request denied."
Hawkeye and Radar both did a double-take. "What do you mean, request denied?" asked Radar, with more than a hint of anger in his voice. Hawk was a little surprised at Radar. He was beginning to step out of character himself. Herring's eyes shot daggers at the young man.
"Don't talk back to a superior officer! How many times must I tell you, Corporal?"
Radar glared daggers right back.
"I'm not talking back to a superior officer! I'm talking back to YOU!"
Hawkeye covered his mouth with a hand to hide a grin. "Way to go, Radar," he whispered.
"Another thing!" Radar shouted, on a roll now. "I hate how you're always, ALWAYS, yelling at me and hitting me! Who do you think you ARE?"
Herring answered by picking up his book, which was quite heavy by the way, walking over to Radar, and hitting him in the face with it. This time, it was Hawkeye who responded angrily.
"DON'T YOU DARE HIT RADAR, COLONEL HITLER!"
Herring, startled, took a step backwards from Hawk.
"What the hell did you just call me?"
He had a dangerous look in his eyes, but Hawkeye and Radar didn't care. "He called you Colonel Hitler, which fits you just fine. All I want is to go see Colonel Blake!" Radar said, quieter now.
"You're both dismissed! I'll just pretend this never happened."
"Don't worry," Hawkeye said to Radar as they left, "I think it's high time Herring had a prank played on him."
"What are you gonna do, sir?"
"Two things, okay? Number one, don't call me sir. Number two, you'll find out in the morning. Just get me a piece of wood and some white paint."
Later, Herring sleepily made his way back to the VIP tent. He was so tired, he didn't notice anything different.
Around four the next morning, Herring awoke to somebody giggling. He peered through the mesh of his tent and saw several people standing outside, snickering at something. His curiosity piqued, Herring got up and went outside. "What are you staring at?" Klinger was among the group, and he pointed to the sign above the door. Herring turned and read the sign.
"All right, everyone. Haul everybody's asses outta bed and get into formation, pronto!"
A few minutes later. . .
Herring paced back and forth in front of the sloppy formation, with an agitated look on his face. Behind his back was a piece of wood. He finally stopped pacing and faced everyone. "Now, I would like to know who pulled a prank on me last night. Who the hell did this piece of work?" He brought the wood out front. It was the sign from the VIP tent. Only now, it read RIP. The camp burst into unrestrained laughter.
"Everybody shut up!" The camp could practically see the vein popping out of Herring's head, and wisely shut up. Herring began to pace again, stopping in front of Radar. He pointed at him menacingly. "You. It was you, wasn't it, O'Reilly? Getting back at me for last night!" Radar, not at all like he had been the night before, stuttered and tried to say, "No, it wasn't me."
"You are in BIG trouble, Corporal! You're on guard duty for the rest of the month, regardless of what Colonel Blake has to say." Herring said "Colonel Blake" with sarcasm. "Everyone else, dismissed! O'Reilly, come with me."
As Hawkeye and Trapper went back to the Swamp, Hawk glanced behind him at Radar. Radar caught his eyes and glared.
"I feel awful, Trap." "Nothin' a martini can't fix," Trapper replied, "Care for a gargle?" Hawkeye sat down on his cot and gratefully took the glass. "Why do you feel awful?" Hawk sighed. "That prank . . . I'm the one who did it, not Radar." Trapper sat down on his own cot. "Well, why didn't you say something? Now, Herring's gonna do God knows what to Radar."
In the CO's office, Radar stood at a nervous attention. The glare from Herring was enough to turn Radar into a puddle. The colonel got up from his chair, stood in front of Radar, and swiftly punched him in the eye, shattering his glasses. "Ow . . ."
"Think that's bad? Well, let me tell you something, O'Reilly," Herring said furiously, "That punch was a friendly cuff compared to what I'm really capable of!" Radar couldn't agree more. "Yes, sir."
Herring sat down again. "Now, you are on guard duty for a month. Understand that?" Radar nodded nervously. "You better just watch your back, because if you screw up even a little bit, look out for my fist."
Radar's hand shook as he saluted the colonel, and he left.
The next day, July 29th, Radar went over to check on his animals. He needed some comfort right now. Only, he couldn't get it.
His wooden kennel was gone.
Radar's chocolate brown eyes filled with tears. Where the kennel had stood was a note. He picked it up.
"Corporal O'Reilly,
I have disposed of your kennel and have had your animals killed.
Colonel Herring"
That was all the note said.
Radar clenched his hands, so hard the knuckles turned white. The anger, mingled with sadness over his animals, welled up in his chest and exploded. "THAT BASTARD! I'M GONNA KILL HIM!"
**************************
Henry waited until Lieutenant Reynolds had gone, and then reached under his mattress and pulled out the canteen filled with rum that General Hammond had sneaked in the day before. He drank from it deeply, feeling the long- awaited liquid slide down his throat. Pure bliss.
A few moments later, the canteen slipped out of his hand as the worst pain Henry had ever experienced shot through his entire body. His heart was pounding madly, and he involuntarily grabbed at his left arm. "AAAAHHHHH!"
Lieutenant Reynolds was just coming back when she heard Henry's cry of pain. She ran in the room, and saw Henry go completely limp, now unconscious. Reynolds turned on her heel and ran down the hallway, yelling for Captain Douglas. She caught him rounding the corner.
"Jud . . . Judy, what is it? What's the matter?"
Reynolds fought for breath. "It's Colonel Blake. I think . . . I think he's having a heart attack!"
"Am I better than your husband?"
"Hell, yeah. . ."
Hawkeye and a certain nurse were sitting on Hawk's cot in the Swamp. Actually, sitting isn't quite the right word . . . Hawkeye lying on top of her is more like it.
Radar saw them through the mesh. He hesitated, and then knocked on the Swamp door. "Uh, sir?"
The nurse gasped and quickly shoved Hawkeye onto the floor. "Supply tent, tomorrow night?" Hawkeye asked hopefully. She nodded and left, holding the door open for Radar.
"What I can do ya for, squirt?"
Radar glared at Hawk, and then cleared his throat. "Well, I kinda need your help, sir." "Can't reach the nurse to kiss her? This is the VERY last time I'm lifting you up." Radar glared again. "Actually, it's Colonel Herring. Y'see, I want to go to Seoul to see Colonel Blake. The problem is, I really don't like to talk to Colonel Herring. So. . ."
". . . You want me to ask him, that about right?" Hawkeye asked, getting up off the floor. Radar nodded. "All right, c'mon."
The two crossed the dark compound and entered the CO's office, where Herring was reading a book. It was All Quiet on the Western Front. Figured.
Hawk cleared his throat, and Herring looked up irritably. "What the hell do you want, Captain?" "Actually, it's more like: what the hell does Radar want?" "Don't get cute with me!"
Hawkeye rolled his eyes, both shut of course so Herring didn't see. "Radar wants to go to Seoul to visit Henry."
No response from Herring.
Hawk massaged his left temple. "Okay, I'll put it into terms you might understand. Corporal O'Reilly wishes to go to Seoul as Lieutenant Colonel Blake is in a hospital there, and the corporal would like to visit him." He mentally shuddered at how . . . military that sounded.
Colonel Herring looked thoughtful, and for a minute Radar hoped he would step out of character and let him go.
"Request denied."
Hawkeye and Radar both did a double-take. "What do you mean, request denied?" asked Radar, with more than a hint of anger in his voice. Hawk was a little surprised at Radar. He was beginning to step out of character himself. Herring's eyes shot daggers at the young man.
"Don't talk back to a superior officer! How many times must I tell you, Corporal?"
Radar glared daggers right back.
"I'm not talking back to a superior officer! I'm talking back to YOU!"
Hawkeye covered his mouth with a hand to hide a grin. "Way to go, Radar," he whispered.
"Another thing!" Radar shouted, on a roll now. "I hate how you're always, ALWAYS, yelling at me and hitting me! Who do you think you ARE?"
Herring answered by picking up his book, which was quite heavy by the way, walking over to Radar, and hitting him in the face with it. This time, it was Hawkeye who responded angrily.
"DON'T YOU DARE HIT RADAR, COLONEL HITLER!"
Herring, startled, took a step backwards from Hawk.
"What the hell did you just call me?"
He had a dangerous look in his eyes, but Hawkeye and Radar didn't care. "He called you Colonel Hitler, which fits you just fine. All I want is to go see Colonel Blake!" Radar said, quieter now.
"You're both dismissed! I'll just pretend this never happened."
"Don't worry," Hawkeye said to Radar as they left, "I think it's high time Herring had a prank played on him."
"What are you gonna do, sir?"
"Two things, okay? Number one, don't call me sir. Number two, you'll find out in the morning. Just get me a piece of wood and some white paint."
Later, Herring sleepily made his way back to the VIP tent. He was so tired, he didn't notice anything different.
Around four the next morning, Herring awoke to somebody giggling. He peered through the mesh of his tent and saw several people standing outside, snickering at something. His curiosity piqued, Herring got up and went outside. "What are you staring at?" Klinger was among the group, and he pointed to the sign above the door. Herring turned and read the sign.
"All right, everyone. Haul everybody's asses outta bed and get into formation, pronto!"
A few minutes later. . .
Herring paced back and forth in front of the sloppy formation, with an agitated look on his face. Behind his back was a piece of wood. He finally stopped pacing and faced everyone. "Now, I would like to know who pulled a prank on me last night. Who the hell did this piece of work?" He brought the wood out front. It was the sign from the VIP tent. Only now, it read RIP. The camp burst into unrestrained laughter.
"Everybody shut up!" The camp could practically see the vein popping out of Herring's head, and wisely shut up. Herring began to pace again, stopping in front of Radar. He pointed at him menacingly. "You. It was you, wasn't it, O'Reilly? Getting back at me for last night!" Radar, not at all like he had been the night before, stuttered and tried to say, "No, it wasn't me."
"You are in BIG trouble, Corporal! You're on guard duty for the rest of the month, regardless of what Colonel Blake has to say." Herring said "Colonel Blake" with sarcasm. "Everyone else, dismissed! O'Reilly, come with me."
As Hawkeye and Trapper went back to the Swamp, Hawk glanced behind him at Radar. Radar caught his eyes and glared.
"I feel awful, Trap." "Nothin' a martini can't fix," Trapper replied, "Care for a gargle?" Hawkeye sat down on his cot and gratefully took the glass. "Why do you feel awful?" Hawk sighed. "That prank . . . I'm the one who did it, not Radar." Trapper sat down on his own cot. "Well, why didn't you say something? Now, Herring's gonna do God knows what to Radar."
In the CO's office, Radar stood at a nervous attention. The glare from Herring was enough to turn Radar into a puddle. The colonel got up from his chair, stood in front of Radar, and swiftly punched him in the eye, shattering his glasses. "Ow . . ."
"Think that's bad? Well, let me tell you something, O'Reilly," Herring said furiously, "That punch was a friendly cuff compared to what I'm really capable of!" Radar couldn't agree more. "Yes, sir."
Herring sat down again. "Now, you are on guard duty for a month. Understand that?" Radar nodded nervously. "You better just watch your back, because if you screw up even a little bit, look out for my fist."
Radar's hand shook as he saluted the colonel, and he left.
The next day, July 29th, Radar went over to check on his animals. He needed some comfort right now. Only, he couldn't get it.
His wooden kennel was gone.
Radar's chocolate brown eyes filled with tears. Where the kennel had stood was a note. He picked it up.
"Corporal O'Reilly,
I have disposed of your kennel and have had your animals killed.
Colonel Herring"
That was all the note said.
Radar clenched his hands, so hard the knuckles turned white. The anger, mingled with sadness over his animals, welled up in his chest and exploded. "THAT BASTARD! I'M GONNA KILL HIM!"
**************************
Henry waited until Lieutenant Reynolds had gone, and then reached under his mattress and pulled out the canteen filled with rum that General Hammond had sneaked in the day before. He drank from it deeply, feeling the long- awaited liquid slide down his throat. Pure bliss.
A few moments later, the canteen slipped out of his hand as the worst pain Henry had ever experienced shot through his entire body. His heart was pounding madly, and he involuntarily grabbed at his left arm. "AAAAHHHHH!"
Lieutenant Reynolds was just coming back when she heard Henry's cry of pain. She ran in the room, and saw Henry go completely limp, now unconscious. Reynolds turned on her heel and ran down the hallway, yelling for Captain Douglas. She caught him rounding the corner.
"Jud . . . Judy, what is it? What's the matter?"
Reynolds fought for breath. "It's Colonel Blake. I think . . . I think he's having a heart attack!"