Chapter Eight: Breakfast
"Good morning, Igor," Colonel Potter said brightly, glad to see the Private back at work behind the pots of food. It was Igor's first morning back in his normal job, and though his hands still had one layer of bandaging on them, he was doing well thus far, and had not complained of the slight scarring or the pain that he had been in. He was just thankful that he had lived, and that everything was more or less intact.
"Good morning, sir," Igor replied just as cheerily. "For today's breakfast, we are serving powdered eggs that have apparently been scrambled, some toast, and the special is pancakes."
"Let's have a forkful of those manhole covers, they look edible," Colonel Potter said, pointing to the almost appetising pancakes. He took a slice of toast in case when he got to the table and found that looks were deceiving, and poured himself a cup of coffee before making his way to a table that already had Margaret, Father Mulcahy and Klinger seated at it.
"Morning, crew," Colonel Potter greeted, setting himself and his tray at the table and taking a slurp of coffee to prepare himself for his breakfast. "How goes it?"
"Well, thank you, Colonel," Father Mulcahy said, rarely having a bad word to be said about anything. "Food is becoming more tempting, now."
"Good to know," Colonel Potter said, glad to see that the good Father was recovering well from his bout of food poisoning. "Life seems to be returning to normal, what with both you and Igor out of Post-Op, and Klinger being discharged today. It was quite unnerving, to see three of my staff in the beds when I walked past," he chuckling, making light of the situation, but thinking to himself that three was more than enough.
Few people knew what had happened in the Post-Op ward that previous evening, and contrary to the usual rumours that were spread around the 4077th quicker than a lit rope doused in petrol, those few that knew, including Klinger and Margaret, knew better than to gossip about something like that.
"Well, if you'll excuse me, I have Sunday's sermon to prepare," Father Mulcahy said, standing up with his tray and leaving the Mess Tent. With only two days until Sunday, and with no fewer than two Christians in the Post-Op ward asking about Sunday services, he had incentive to write a worthy address for that particular Sunday.
"Listen, folks, word from the big guys say that we could be expecting wounded this evening, so we need all the patients that can to be shipped out today to be shipped out today, and I need you, Margaret, to check that we have enough supplies, because apparently this shift's gonna be a long one, maybe twenty hours."
"I'll have it done after breakfast," Margaret promised him, in any case already ready should there be a surprise batch of wounded rolling into the M*A*S*H unit. "I'll also start rounding up some blood donors, in case we run into short supply."
"Good girl," Colonel Potter commended her, before he looked up to see Hawkeye heading towards the table. "Morning, Pierce, sleep well?"
"Fine, eventually," Hawkeye said, settling in his seat before stabbing a pancake with his fork and inspecting it and placing it cautiously in his mouth. "Needs syrup," he said with his mouth full, reaching for the jug of syrup.
"Did you find him last night?" Margaret asked, having not been informed of anything since Hawkeye had set off to search for BJ.
"Yeah," Hawkeye said seriously, before taking another bite of the pancakes.
It hadn't taken long for Hawkeye to find BJ when he set out, it was a case of watching the shadowy figure hurrying into the night, the only moving thing in the compound. Hawkeye had followed him, but he had kept back some distance, allowing BJ some space. BJ had stopped at the outskirts of camp, leaning back against a corrugated iron wall of a building to catch his breath.
Hawkeye had picked this moment to go up to BJ and to talk to him. He walked over to his friend, and stood for a moment, both of them staring into the distance, before he said, "He didn't mean it, he just had one too many bounces on the saddle today."
"He's right, though."
That statement had been like a sharp kick for Hawkeye, to hear BJ so distant, so uncaring, so willing to give in like that. He knew that BJ wasn't a fighter by any means, and didn't tend to be stirred up without cause, but he also knew that he didn't usually give in like that without giving his side of the story, by just holding up the white flag and surrendering like that.
"It's not your fault, alcohol does that to you," Hawkeye had said, trying to reason with BJ, but he was beyond it.
"It is my fault, though. I took the alcohol when I was sober, I knew what it would do to me, no one's to blame but me," BJ said in a cold, lifeless voice.
Eventually, Hawkeye had managed to escort BJ back to the Swamp, but during the conversation beforehand, he had not managed to find out what had been bothering BJ. He knew for sure that something was, but his friend simply would not open up to him and tell him what, leaving Hawkeye feeling totally and utterly helpless.
"Where is BJ this morning?" Margaret asked, breaking Hawkeye's thoughts. Up until recently, the pair had done almost everything together, and that included at mealtimes, but lately BJ had distanced himself from everybody.
"Probably in Post-Op," Hawkeye said, thinking to himself that this was where BJ spent most of his mornings lately. In fact, he hadn't eaten breakfast with him in a long time.
"Not today, I sent Winchester on duty this morning," Colonel Potter said, taking a slurp of coffee and continuing, "After last night, I thought that Hunnicutt could use some sleep."
"Some sleep? So why wasn't he in his bunk when I woke up this morning?" Hawkeye demanded to know, before abandoning his tray to find out where exactly BJ was.
"HOLD IT," Colonel Potter said in a voice that could not be ignored by even the most determined friend. Hawkeye turned around, impatiently waiting for what Colonel Potter had to say before he went to look for BJ. Colonel Potter, in a calmer voice, continued, "I want a meeting with you three surgeons in my office in two minutes, and so I will make an announcement to the camp, which will hopefully stir Captain Hunnicutt, and he will make his way to my office like the rest of us."
Hawkeye knew that Colonel Potter made sense, so he nodded and sat down again. "What's the meeting about, Colonel?"
"You'll find out soon enough," he said, tapping his nose.
~~~~
"Good morning, Igor," Colonel Potter said brightly, glad to see the Private back at work behind the pots of food. It was Igor's first morning back in his normal job, and though his hands still had one layer of bandaging on them, he was doing well thus far, and had not complained of the slight scarring or the pain that he had been in. He was just thankful that he had lived, and that everything was more or less intact.
"Good morning, sir," Igor replied just as cheerily. "For today's breakfast, we are serving powdered eggs that have apparently been scrambled, some toast, and the special is pancakes."
"Let's have a forkful of those manhole covers, they look edible," Colonel Potter said, pointing to the almost appetising pancakes. He took a slice of toast in case when he got to the table and found that looks were deceiving, and poured himself a cup of coffee before making his way to a table that already had Margaret, Father Mulcahy and Klinger seated at it.
"Morning, crew," Colonel Potter greeted, setting himself and his tray at the table and taking a slurp of coffee to prepare himself for his breakfast. "How goes it?"
"Well, thank you, Colonel," Father Mulcahy said, rarely having a bad word to be said about anything. "Food is becoming more tempting, now."
"Good to know," Colonel Potter said, glad to see that the good Father was recovering well from his bout of food poisoning. "Life seems to be returning to normal, what with both you and Igor out of Post-Op, and Klinger being discharged today. It was quite unnerving, to see three of my staff in the beds when I walked past," he chuckling, making light of the situation, but thinking to himself that three was more than enough.
Few people knew what had happened in the Post-Op ward that previous evening, and contrary to the usual rumours that were spread around the 4077th quicker than a lit rope doused in petrol, those few that knew, including Klinger and Margaret, knew better than to gossip about something like that.
"Well, if you'll excuse me, I have Sunday's sermon to prepare," Father Mulcahy said, standing up with his tray and leaving the Mess Tent. With only two days until Sunday, and with no fewer than two Christians in the Post-Op ward asking about Sunday services, he had incentive to write a worthy address for that particular Sunday.
"Listen, folks, word from the big guys say that we could be expecting wounded this evening, so we need all the patients that can to be shipped out today to be shipped out today, and I need you, Margaret, to check that we have enough supplies, because apparently this shift's gonna be a long one, maybe twenty hours."
"I'll have it done after breakfast," Margaret promised him, in any case already ready should there be a surprise batch of wounded rolling into the M*A*S*H unit. "I'll also start rounding up some blood donors, in case we run into short supply."
"Good girl," Colonel Potter commended her, before he looked up to see Hawkeye heading towards the table. "Morning, Pierce, sleep well?"
"Fine, eventually," Hawkeye said, settling in his seat before stabbing a pancake with his fork and inspecting it and placing it cautiously in his mouth. "Needs syrup," he said with his mouth full, reaching for the jug of syrup.
"Did you find him last night?" Margaret asked, having not been informed of anything since Hawkeye had set off to search for BJ.
"Yeah," Hawkeye said seriously, before taking another bite of the pancakes.
It hadn't taken long for Hawkeye to find BJ when he set out, it was a case of watching the shadowy figure hurrying into the night, the only moving thing in the compound. Hawkeye had followed him, but he had kept back some distance, allowing BJ some space. BJ had stopped at the outskirts of camp, leaning back against a corrugated iron wall of a building to catch his breath.
Hawkeye had picked this moment to go up to BJ and to talk to him. He walked over to his friend, and stood for a moment, both of them staring into the distance, before he said, "He didn't mean it, he just had one too many bounces on the saddle today."
"He's right, though."
That statement had been like a sharp kick for Hawkeye, to hear BJ so distant, so uncaring, so willing to give in like that. He knew that BJ wasn't a fighter by any means, and didn't tend to be stirred up without cause, but he also knew that he didn't usually give in like that without giving his side of the story, by just holding up the white flag and surrendering like that.
"It's not your fault, alcohol does that to you," Hawkeye had said, trying to reason with BJ, but he was beyond it.
"It is my fault, though. I took the alcohol when I was sober, I knew what it would do to me, no one's to blame but me," BJ said in a cold, lifeless voice.
Eventually, Hawkeye had managed to escort BJ back to the Swamp, but during the conversation beforehand, he had not managed to find out what had been bothering BJ. He knew for sure that something was, but his friend simply would not open up to him and tell him what, leaving Hawkeye feeling totally and utterly helpless.
"Where is BJ this morning?" Margaret asked, breaking Hawkeye's thoughts. Up until recently, the pair had done almost everything together, and that included at mealtimes, but lately BJ had distanced himself from everybody.
"Probably in Post-Op," Hawkeye said, thinking to himself that this was where BJ spent most of his mornings lately. In fact, he hadn't eaten breakfast with him in a long time.
"Not today, I sent Winchester on duty this morning," Colonel Potter said, taking a slurp of coffee and continuing, "After last night, I thought that Hunnicutt could use some sleep."
"Some sleep? So why wasn't he in his bunk when I woke up this morning?" Hawkeye demanded to know, before abandoning his tray to find out where exactly BJ was.
"HOLD IT," Colonel Potter said in a voice that could not be ignored by even the most determined friend. Hawkeye turned around, impatiently waiting for what Colonel Potter had to say before he went to look for BJ. Colonel Potter, in a calmer voice, continued, "I want a meeting with you three surgeons in my office in two minutes, and so I will make an announcement to the camp, which will hopefully stir Captain Hunnicutt, and he will make his way to my office like the rest of us."
Hawkeye knew that Colonel Potter made sense, so he nodded and sat down again. "What's the meeting about, Colonel?"
"You'll find out soon enough," he said, tapping his nose.
~~~~