Dear Victoria,
I am back now, and I have three days worth of letters from you to catch up on. I have been in Tokyo on three days R & R. It wasn't as horrible as I thought it would be. You must be wondering why I thought a vacation from this war would be horrible. The truth is, I have been wondering myself. Most everyone here would give anything for a break from the war, from the fighting, the death - even from each other. It is a small place, and everyone here seems to know each other's most intimate secrets. Sometimes it can be enough to drive you crazy. And I think some of them think that's what has happened to me.
They arranged a visit with Doctor Freedman for me while I was in Tokyo. Dr. Freedman is an army psychiatrist. He says that I am not crazy. According to Dr. Freedman, we all find ways to deal with the stress of being so close to the front.
Please don't tell anyone that I saw a psychiatrist. Mother would worry, Daddy would be embarrassed, and Carol Ann would probably think I was being dramatic or something.
************************************************************************
Jo paused in her writing, realizing she hadn't touched the food on the tray in front of her. She closed her book and set it down on the table. Giving her spoonful a careful sniff, Jo cautiously put it in her mouth. Her taste buds could still remember the real food of Tokyo and were sorely disappointed by the surplus army rations. She grimaced and swallowed the grey mass that was supposed to be some sort of stew.
Before she knew what was happening, she was sandwiched between two bodies.
"These seats taken?" a familiar voice asked.
"Hawkeye!" Jo said, smiling. "It's good to see you again. Both of you," she added quickly, looking over at BJ on her other side and blushing.
"So, how was it?" Hawkeye asked eagerly.
"It was alright," replied Jo.
"Just alright?" Hawkeye asked.
Jo shrugged and nodded.
"Come on," he urged.
"We're your friends," BJ added.
"And as such, we have the right to live vicariously through you." Hawkeye declared.
Stuck between them, Jo felt a bit like a spectator at a tennis match, as the two surgeons batted jokes back and forth.
"Right," agreed BJ, "we've been stuck here while you've been travelling the world. At least tell us a story or two."
"Really, it was alright," Jo snapped, irritated. "There isn't much else to tell." If the entire company really did think she had gone crazy, it would only fuel rumours for her to be openly talking about how she spent her entire R & R, save for a few precious hours, locked in her hotel room. Her answer seemed satisfactory, or at least cross enough that the two men knew not to ask further.
"So, what did you bring me?" BJ asked, grinning.
Jo felt embarrassed, she hadn't even thought of bringing back gifts for any of her friends here. "I - I didn't really leave the room," she said sheepishly.
"Oh, so it was that kind of rest and relaxation."
The comment hung in the air a moment before Jo realized what she had said and how it must have sounded. Jo burned with humiliation.
"Aren't you going to ask how things were here?" BJ asked, shifting the subject.
"I - I'm sorry." Jo said, swallowing hard and fighting tears of embarrassment. With a forced smile, she asked, "How were things here?"
"Same as always. You did miss a great show..." BJ was cut short by the crackling PA system.
There were a few short raps on the PA microphone before the voice came booming over the compound.
"Sorry to interrupt dinner folks, but we've got incoming wounded."
One by one the tables in the mess tent were emptied of people. Trays left, half-finished, on the tables, as if their owners expected to be able to return to finish them. Of course, no one really believed they would have the opportunity to come back to their dinner, and most were grateful for the fact.
"You ready for this?" Hawkeye asked Jo as she helped him with his gown and gloves. His eyes, the only part of his face visible between the surgical mask and hat, were filled with concern.
"Do I really have a choice?" Jo asked in response. Then looking carefully at Hawkeye, she added, "Don't worry. I'm the one who didn't want to leave in the first place."
"Table ready over here," Hawkeye called. "Is there a party of one waiting to be served?"
Hawkeye stared down at the patient lying on the table for a long moment.
"My God," he whispered as he finally let out his breath.
The child lying on the table squirmed and whimpered as the anaesthetist held the mask over his face. The little boy relaxed as he drifted into unconsciousness, and the whimpers stopped.
"He's under Doctor," Jo said, preparing to pass along surgical instruments quickly so as not to waste valuable time. When there was no response, she looked up. Hawkeye seemed frozen, still staring at the child. "Hawkeye!" Jo called, snapping him out of his trance.
"Scalpel," he requested, as though nothing had happened. Jo handed it to him without missing a beat. "Does anyone know what the hell happened out there?"
Jo quietly made the rounds in post op. It had been a relatively short session in the OR, but the whole camp seemed subdued by what they had just seen.
A raggedy group of children had been brought in in various states of injury. They had been travelling together, walking further south to escape the worst of the fighting. As far as anyone could tell, they were orphans, and everyone assumed that they had created their own makeshift family. Unfortunately this family of children had wandered straight into a minefield.
"Hawkeye," a nurse called across the room. "His temperature has gone up again."
Hawkeye checked the thermometer. Jo could see him leaning over the little boy. She could recognize the child form the OR, although by now his face had been cleaned of all the dirt and soot that had been covering it.
"It's been going up ever since he got into post-op," the nurse continued to explain.
"Damn it," Hawkeye cursed quietly. "He must have an infection."
"Could you have missed something in the OR?" the nurse asked gently.
Hawkeye was quiet for a moment and Jo couldn't tell if he was upset at the suggestion, or just thinking. "It's possible," he finally said. "He was in pretty bad shape."
"We've got to get his temperature down."
"He's not stable enough for another round of surgery," Hawkeye decided, examining the boy closer. "Give him some penicillin to fight the infection, and we'll see if we can open him up again in the morning."
Hawkeye straightened up. "I'm supposed to be off," he stated, looking at the clock. His eyes had dark circles underneath and Jo could tell he was exhausted.
"Captain Hunnicut should be here any minute," the other nurse said. "Things are quiet enough. Why don't you go get some rest? We can hold down the fort," she added, glancing over at Jo, who nodded in agreement.
"Thanks," Hawkeye mumbled, and left the room.
Jo sat down next to a young girl whose arm was in a cast. Her eyes flicked back and forth, taking everything in.
"Hey," Jo murmured. "It's okay, you're going to be just fine."
Gently she brushed the girl's hair out of her face. The child's eyes stopped and locked on Jo. She seemed to relax a bit. Jo patted her uninjured hand and stood up. She was about to move on to the next cot when the nurse across the room called out to her.
"There's something wrong!"
The young boy Hawkeye had been examining just moments before was making strange noises. His breath was coming in choppy gasps.
"His blood pressure is dropping," Jo told the other nurse. "I don't think he's getting enough air."
"Go," the other nurse ordered. "Get a doctor, quickly!"
Jo rushed from the post-op ward. She looked frantically around the compound but there was no one in sight. She made a dash to the Swamp. "Hawkeye," she yelled, opening the door without knocking.
Hawkeye was lying in his cot, his blanket half covering him, one foot, still in its boot, sticking out from underneath. He sat up.
"You've got to come quickly," Jo told him. "It's the boy we treated. He can't breathe," Jo, breathless herself, gasped.
Hawkeye followed her quickly back to post-op. When they got there, BJ was working on the boy.
"Doctor," the nurse said. "He doesn't have a pulse."
BJ stood up, head hanging. "That's it?" Hawkeye asked him. "You're just going to give up?!"
"Hawk," BJ started, but didn't finish what he was going to say.
Hawkeye leaned over the boy, examining the emergency tracheotomy. Frantically he began chest compressions. One of the other children, awakened by the commotion, began to scream.
"Hawk, he's gone," BJ said.
"No, damn it!" Hawkeye continued his frenzied attempted to revive the boy, now lying limp in the cot.
"Hawkeye, it's time to stop," BJ told him, but Hawkeye didn't listen. More children began screaming, and some cowered behind their blankets.
"Hawkeye!" Jo grabbed Hawkeye by the shoulders. "You're scaring them! He's gone. There isn't anything else you can do."
Hawkeye shook her hands off his shoulders and Jo stumbled backwards, falling into an empty cot. Jo sat there, stunned, for a few moments, watching Hawkeye storm out of the tent.
"Are you alright?" BJ asked her.
"Yes," Jo said. "I'm fine. It's Hawkeye we should be worried about."
"I'll go find him," BJ said.
"No, you stay here. Calm down the children. I'll find Hawkeye," Jo told him.
Jo found Hawkeye where she suspected he would be. Alone in the darkness of the Swamp, Hawkeye was tossing back drink after drink. She could see him through the screen sitting on his cot.
She knocked quietly on the door, opening it without waiting for him to answer.
"Hawkeye, it's Jo."
He looked at her and blinked. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," she said. "Are you alright?"
"I - I didn't mean to push you," Hawkeye told her.
"I know." Jo sat down next to Hawkeye and took the glass out of his hand, setting it down. "There was nothing you could do."
"I never should have left before BJ got there."
"No one could have known that would happen." Jo thought she heard Hawkeye let out a choked sob. "It's not your fault."
Hawkeye began to cry in earnest. Jo's own eyes began to tear up, remembering the young boy they had worked so hard to save in the OR lying, limp and lifeless in post-op. Carefully she wrapped her arms around him. "It's not your fault," she repeated, over and over into his hair.
Hawkeye lifted his head up and looked at her for a moment. Then, slowly, he moved closer and kissed her. Jo held onto him tighter.
"Is this alright?" Hawkeye asked her.
"Yes."
I am back now, and I have three days worth of letters from you to catch up on. I have been in Tokyo on three days R & R. It wasn't as horrible as I thought it would be. You must be wondering why I thought a vacation from this war would be horrible. The truth is, I have been wondering myself. Most everyone here would give anything for a break from the war, from the fighting, the death - even from each other. It is a small place, and everyone here seems to know each other's most intimate secrets. Sometimes it can be enough to drive you crazy. And I think some of them think that's what has happened to me.
They arranged a visit with Doctor Freedman for me while I was in Tokyo. Dr. Freedman is an army psychiatrist. He says that I am not crazy. According to Dr. Freedman, we all find ways to deal with the stress of being so close to the front.
Please don't tell anyone that I saw a psychiatrist. Mother would worry, Daddy would be embarrassed, and Carol Ann would probably think I was being dramatic or something.
************************************************************************
Jo paused in her writing, realizing she hadn't touched the food on the tray in front of her. She closed her book and set it down on the table. Giving her spoonful a careful sniff, Jo cautiously put it in her mouth. Her taste buds could still remember the real food of Tokyo and were sorely disappointed by the surplus army rations. She grimaced and swallowed the grey mass that was supposed to be some sort of stew.
Before she knew what was happening, she was sandwiched between two bodies.
"These seats taken?" a familiar voice asked.
"Hawkeye!" Jo said, smiling. "It's good to see you again. Both of you," she added quickly, looking over at BJ on her other side and blushing.
"So, how was it?" Hawkeye asked eagerly.
"It was alright," replied Jo.
"Just alright?" Hawkeye asked.
Jo shrugged and nodded.
"Come on," he urged.
"We're your friends," BJ added.
"And as such, we have the right to live vicariously through you." Hawkeye declared.
Stuck between them, Jo felt a bit like a spectator at a tennis match, as the two surgeons batted jokes back and forth.
"Right," agreed BJ, "we've been stuck here while you've been travelling the world. At least tell us a story or two."
"Really, it was alright," Jo snapped, irritated. "There isn't much else to tell." If the entire company really did think she had gone crazy, it would only fuel rumours for her to be openly talking about how she spent her entire R & R, save for a few precious hours, locked in her hotel room. Her answer seemed satisfactory, or at least cross enough that the two men knew not to ask further.
"So, what did you bring me?" BJ asked, grinning.
Jo felt embarrassed, she hadn't even thought of bringing back gifts for any of her friends here. "I - I didn't really leave the room," she said sheepishly.
"Oh, so it was that kind of rest and relaxation."
The comment hung in the air a moment before Jo realized what she had said and how it must have sounded. Jo burned with humiliation.
"Aren't you going to ask how things were here?" BJ asked, shifting the subject.
"I - I'm sorry." Jo said, swallowing hard and fighting tears of embarrassment. With a forced smile, she asked, "How were things here?"
"Same as always. You did miss a great show..." BJ was cut short by the crackling PA system.
There were a few short raps on the PA microphone before the voice came booming over the compound.
"Sorry to interrupt dinner folks, but we've got incoming wounded."
One by one the tables in the mess tent were emptied of people. Trays left, half-finished, on the tables, as if their owners expected to be able to return to finish them. Of course, no one really believed they would have the opportunity to come back to their dinner, and most were grateful for the fact.
"You ready for this?" Hawkeye asked Jo as she helped him with his gown and gloves. His eyes, the only part of his face visible between the surgical mask and hat, were filled with concern.
"Do I really have a choice?" Jo asked in response. Then looking carefully at Hawkeye, she added, "Don't worry. I'm the one who didn't want to leave in the first place."
"Table ready over here," Hawkeye called. "Is there a party of one waiting to be served?"
Hawkeye stared down at the patient lying on the table for a long moment.
"My God," he whispered as he finally let out his breath.
The child lying on the table squirmed and whimpered as the anaesthetist held the mask over his face. The little boy relaxed as he drifted into unconsciousness, and the whimpers stopped.
"He's under Doctor," Jo said, preparing to pass along surgical instruments quickly so as not to waste valuable time. When there was no response, she looked up. Hawkeye seemed frozen, still staring at the child. "Hawkeye!" Jo called, snapping him out of his trance.
"Scalpel," he requested, as though nothing had happened. Jo handed it to him without missing a beat. "Does anyone know what the hell happened out there?"
Jo quietly made the rounds in post op. It had been a relatively short session in the OR, but the whole camp seemed subdued by what they had just seen.
A raggedy group of children had been brought in in various states of injury. They had been travelling together, walking further south to escape the worst of the fighting. As far as anyone could tell, they were orphans, and everyone assumed that they had created their own makeshift family. Unfortunately this family of children had wandered straight into a minefield.
"Hawkeye," a nurse called across the room. "His temperature has gone up again."
Hawkeye checked the thermometer. Jo could see him leaning over the little boy. She could recognize the child form the OR, although by now his face had been cleaned of all the dirt and soot that had been covering it.
"It's been going up ever since he got into post-op," the nurse continued to explain.
"Damn it," Hawkeye cursed quietly. "He must have an infection."
"Could you have missed something in the OR?" the nurse asked gently.
Hawkeye was quiet for a moment and Jo couldn't tell if he was upset at the suggestion, or just thinking. "It's possible," he finally said. "He was in pretty bad shape."
"We've got to get his temperature down."
"He's not stable enough for another round of surgery," Hawkeye decided, examining the boy closer. "Give him some penicillin to fight the infection, and we'll see if we can open him up again in the morning."
Hawkeye straightened up. "I'm supposed to be off," he stated, looking at the clock. His eyes had dark circles underneath and Jo could tell he was exhausted.
"Captain Hunnicut should be here any minute," the other nurse said. "Things are quiet enough. Why don't you go get some rest? We can hold down the fort," she added, glancing over at Jo, who nodded in agreement.
"Thanks," Hawkeye mumbled, and left the room.
Jo sat down next to a young girl whose arm was in a cast. Her eyes flicked back and forth, taking everything in.
"Hey," Jo murmured. "It's okay, you're going to be just fine."
Gently she brushed the girl's hair out of her face. The child's eyes stopped and locked on Jo. She seemed to relax a bit. Jo patted her uninjured hand and stood up. She was about to move on to the next cot when the nurse across the room called out to her.
"There's something wrong!"
The young boy Hawkeye had been examining just moments before was making strange noises. His breath was coming in choppy gasps.
"His blood pressure is dropping," Jo told the other nurse. "I don't think he's getting enough air."
"Go," the other nurse ordered. "Get a doctor, quickly!"
Jo rushed from the post-op ward. She looked frantically around the compound but there was no one in sight. She made a dash to the Swamp. "Hawkeye," she yelled, opening the door without knocking.
Hawkeye was lying in his cot, his blanket half covering him, one foot, still in its boot, sticking out from underneath. He sat up.
"You've got to come quickly," Jo told him. "It's the boy we treated. He can't breathe," Jo, breathless herself, gasped.
Hawkeye followed her quickly back to post-op. When they got there, BJ was working on the boy.
"Doctor," the nurse said. "He doesn't have a pulse."
BJ stood up, head hanging. "That's it?" Hawkeye asked him. "You're just going to give up?!"
"Hawk," BJ started, but didn't finish what he was going to say.
Hawkeye leaned over the boy, examining the emergency tracheotomy. Frantically he began chest compressions. One of the other children, awakened by the commotion, began to scream.
"Hawk, he's gone," BJ said.
"No, damn it!" Hawkeye continued his frenzied attempted to revive the boy, now lying limp in the cot.
"Hawkeye, it's time to stop," BJ told him, but Hawkeye didn't listen. More children began screaming, and some cowered behind their blankets.
"Hawkeye!" Jo grabbed Hawkeye by the shoulders. "You're scaring them! He's gone. There isn't anything else you can do."
Hawkeye shook her hands off his shoulders and Jo stumbled backwards, falling into an empty cot. Jo sat there, stunned, for a few moments, watching Hawkeye storm out of the tent.
"Are you alright?" BJ asked her.
"Yes," Jo said. "I'm fine. It's Hawkeye we should be worried about."
"I'll go find him," BJ said.
"No, you stay here. Calm down the children. I'll find Hawkeye," Jo told him.
Jo found Hawkeye where she suspected he would be. Alone in the darkness of the Swamp, Hawkeye was tossing back drink after drink. She could see him through the screen sitting on his cot.
She knocked quietly on the door, opening it without waiting for him to answer.
"Hawkeye, it's Jo."
He looked at her and blinked. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," she said. "Are you alright?"
"I - I didn't mean to push you," Hawkeye told her.
"I know." Jo sat down next to Hawkeye and took the glass out of his hand, setting it down. "There was nothing you could do."
"I never should have left before BJ got there."
"No one could have known that would happen." Jo thought she heard Hawkeye let out a choked sob. "It's not your fault."
Hawkeye began to cry in earnest. Jo's own eyes began to tear up, remembering the young boy they had worked so hard to save in the OR lying, limp and lifeless in post-op. Carefully she wrapped her arms around him. "It's not your fault," she repeated, over and over into his hair.
Hawkeye lifted his head up and looked at her for a moment. Then, slowly, he moved closer and kissed her. Jo held onto him tighter.
"Is this alright?" Hawkeye asked her.
"Yes."
