As my one and only wonderful reviewer (shout out to the wonderful Addezia, may your camel grow a second hump) pointed out there is no assurity that any woman had anything to do with any thing in Korea, besides nursing. I have no idea if they did. It would be interesting to discover, however. I'm taking myself out on a limb here knowing only what I know about what I know and nothing more, unfortunately. Anyone out there know about women in Korea? That would be an interesting topic to learn about, being a woman myself I find the topic rather titillating.
But seriously folks, here comes a little more. A chapter summary you say? Why I don't mind if I do…
Bernie's finally on camp. She's getting stronger and slowly encouraging herself to recover from her mysterious past trauma, but Captain Pierce seems to have it out for her. Oh whatever shall she do?
"I'm going to die, aren't I?" She had been there for almost two thirds of an hour, talking to these boys and making sure they didn't drift off to a place she couldn't bring them back from. She knew enough about serious injuries to know that while what they had sustained wasn't the worst they could have gotten, it was best to keep them awake, motionless, and bleeding as little as possible.
"I don't figure on letting you." She smiled, curled up at their heads with her knees on her chin. She was the picture of calm, but anxiety was threatening to creep out of her every pore. Her eyes shot to the road for the tenth time that minute. "You both feeling comfortable? Anything I can get you?"
"Water?" The younger one of the two asked shyly. Neither of them were much on complaining, but she could tell, they were hurting.
"Sure thing. How do you like that, straight up or with a twist?" She twirled the cap to her canteen and raised it to the young boys lips.
"Thanks." He grinned meekly at her when he had finished. "You're sure you're not a nurse?"
"No, but I once met someone who was related to Florence Nightingale, so I figure I'm just as good as qualified." She took a swig of water for herself and them offered it to the other wounded man who shook his head. Her voice was stronger now, it shook less with every word like it had with the nurses in the jeep. These boys needed her to be strong, and she'd pull it off as best as she could.
"Really?" the younger one of the two perked up, he passed the fag they had lit to her and she took a deep pull. "Is that when you were volunteering in the free hospital down south?" Bernie blushed.
"Actually," Her eyes darted to the side, evading his with a little embarrassment. "Bartending in the east, but I think you two know too much about me as it is."
When the nurses and herself, found the bodies laying with shrapnel imbedded in them, screaming and moaning next to two smoldering jeeps her adrenaline had kicked in. All anxiousness she felt immediately fled her mind and she had raced around talking a mile a minute and throwing in a hand to dress a wound whenever she could. She couldn't say why now, but she'd instinctively known to stay behind with these wounded boys on the side of the road when the jeep was loaded.
No amount of persuading had changed her mind. It had been a nervous reaction at the time, letting them leave her like this. No hint of heroism to it. They had waved her off with a medicine bag and a false grin pasted on her face. Now that the buzz in her head was finally clearing she wasn't quite as comfortable with the situation as she'd thought she would be. In a knee jerk reaction she'd hid her fear with incessant talk about herself, and a few things that, in normal circumstances, she never would've dreamed of mentioning to polite company. It was time for a subject change.
"How about you two? Got a sweetheart pining back home for either of you?" She turned to the older boy, who looked like he was doing the worst of the two, and handed him the dying butt of the cigarette. "I bet you've got to just beat them away when you're in the states."
"Yes Ma'am." He grinned, winking at her, and taking the last draw of smoke. But then he groaned rolling his eyes back into his head.
"Aw, shit." She muttered, leaning over him, hesitating for a moment, and then pushing down on his shoulders to immobilize him as best she could. "Hang in there!"
What a stupid phrase, Bernie thought to herself. Hang in there.
"The names Marcus." He moaned, but the pain seemed to be subsiding. "Please, call me Mark. I must have forgotten my manners. Pretty faces seem to do that to me."
"Bleeding through my stomach would do that to me," she muttered, something about war always brought out the wolf in a man. She used the excuse to check his bandages to cover the way her hands had begun to shake. Bernie turned to the other boy. "How about you. It's Adam, right?"
"Yes Ma'am," he stared off into the distance, and she followed his eyes up into space when a heavenly sound came to her ears.
"A jeep!" She checked the two of them quickly and then ran to the side of the road, waving her hands and yelling. A rush of relief washed over her when she saw the white circle and red cross of a medic. These boys had a good chance of making it through this. So did she.
The Jeep slowed to a stop and she hardly had time to acknowledge the man who unfolded himself from the passenger seat before she took off running and waving for him to follow.
"Over here! They're over here!" They weren't far from the road, but she was panting when she fell to her knees by they're sides. "Mark, Adam, I brought a friend."
"You two are lucky I don't charge extra for house calls." The medic said with a grin as he stepped beside them, quickly assessing the situation and kneeling to check their wounds. "Who bound them?" He was asking her, but she was too busy fretting over the two wounded to look at him.
"I did." She paused, guiltily. "Well, the nurses had but they soaked through, I re-wrapped them with what I had. I didn't let anything dirty touch them, I swear!"
"No, you did good." He went to work on Marcus first, quickly removing the bandages. "Where do you hurt kid? Anything I can't see?"
"No, just what I've got right here I think." He grabbed for Bernie's hand when a fresh wave of pain hit him. The touch came as a shock to her and she jumped with a small yelp. The Medic looked up at her with a strange knot over his eyes and turned to yell at the private who was still in the Jeep.
"Get those stretchers over here, now!" Hesitantly, the kid obeyed, but obviously not happy to be stepping on pre-bombed soil. "We're going to have to get this one in as soon as possible." He muttered to himself, and then looked up at Bernie.
For the first time she met the man's eyes, and she felt wash of calm like strong breese. They were a light shade of blue that were sharp and seemed to miss nothing. All she could do was nod. He quickly turned his attention to the other boy, Adam. "Well, you're lucky kid. Looks like you've got some scratches and a few broken bones, but you're a lot better off than the other guys I just saw." Bernie sighed more audibly than she meant to. The kid was young, and it was tough to see him beat up like he was, but it was good to hear there was nothing serious.
She aided in getting the two patients onto the stretchers and in ten minutes they were in camp with the two boys being raced off to the OR. The medic stayed.
"Sorry I didn't introduce myself." He took of his ridiculous looking helmet and reached out a long wiry hand. "Captain Benjamin Pierce, surgeon in this little cesspool we call home. Consider me the welcoming committee of MASH 4077." So, she had arrived at last. A whole day early too!
She took his hand and tried not to flinch at his touch. It wasn't him that made her flinch. She just possessed her own reasons. He didn't seem to notice if she had.
"Bernadette Owens. Sergeant. I would've brought gifts for the welcoming committee but all I could find were a couple of wounded soldiers," she shrugged, she wasn't in a joking mood, but they always seemed to come out anyway, "and I hear they just don't go with anything." Her face was sober, and keeping the conversation brief, she panned the khaki horizon for a second and located her gear. "Thanks for coming to get me out there." She muttered and started to walk to her bag. Pierce followed, matching her casual gait.
"I haven't seen you around here before. Just passing through?" Something in the casual way he talked made the conversation seem more prodding than Bernie felt was necessary.
"No, I'm staying." She hitched her bag onto her shoulder and unconsciously pulled on her hat that was already low on her eyes. She had to get to work, once she was working, everything would be alright.
"Really?" The captain seemed surprised.
"Yes sir." She turned her head away a little in a way she hoped would end the conversation, walking into the door she guessed would lead to the CO's office. A small man who pulled a white surgical cap off of his head, the last remnants of a recent surgery, came through another set of swinging doors just as she did. Pierce wasn't far behind her.
"Well, looked what the cat dragged in!" The marking on his clothing clearly identified him as a colonel, and she assumed, the CO.
"Sir," she said as respectfully as she could, with a small salute that was just as slightly returned. "Sergeant Bernadette Owens reporting, Sir."
"We picked her up with the two wounded that just came in, Colonel. She made the nurses she was coming in with leave her behind." Pierce stepped around Bernie and fell in a chair next to the desk in front of her. "I was told she was practically dragged to the Jeep and she still wouldn't go." The Colonel raised a brow and turned to her.
"I'm sorry sir, they loaded the worst cases first and I felt that it would be better if they went with the ones they left, since the nurses could do more good than I could. The boys I stayed with weren't that bad off, and they did almost drag me to the Jeep, but that's not worth the story, Sir." She was startled as the door behind her swung open and a slight figure came bustling in.
"Colonel Potter, Sir. I think the new mess sergeant is going to be here soon, sir." She looked at the man who had just come in curiously. He was terribly young, but his face was sincere, and calm.
"Horse feathers! Radar she's right…" The colonel looked a little ticked to be interrupted, but he didn't raise his voice. Hawkeye jumped in before he could finish the sentence.
"We'll know when she comes Radar." He patted the corporal, "she'll be the picture of all things plump and delicious, a veritable vision of delectable delights." Captain pierce leaned back in his chair, smacking his lips together and rubbing his hands.
Radar suddenly looked up at Bernie, and she caught his knowing glance. She nodded slightly at his questioning gaze. Somehow the kid knew who she was. Bernie should have been creeped-out, but she was too busy being nervous.
"Pierce, I repeat," the Colonel pulled his hands behind his back and grinned widely at the Captain. "It's not even certain that she's going to show up at all. Disappearing like that is bad news. She may be dead for all we know." He looked to Sergeant Owens and asked, "How 'bout it Sergeant, are you dead?"
"Oh, I'm not dead, Sir," Bernie chimed in stupidly. She regretted it instantly. The look Captain Pierce gave her was impossible to read, thought she knew it wasn't a good look, but Radar just smiled and the Colonel looked very pleased with himself. He'd been expecting her, he'd known who she was the moment she said her name.
"Well, that's good to hear. Radar, show Sergeant Owens here to her tent and then walk her around the Mess." He turned to Bernie and pointed to the his clerk. "Everything you need you can get from him, including acquisition forms that have to go through me. Clear?"
"As a bell sir." She stiffened slightly as she felt her new job come into immediate action. Radar walked up to her and around to push open the door.
"If you'll just come this way Ma'am." She hitched up her bag and tugged on her hat's brim.
"Call me Bernie, please, Corporal." She was working on building up her voice from its low unassuming tone, but she didn't succeed. "It was nice meeting you Captain."
Hawkeye watched the door close and stopped to let a few things sink in.
"That was no vision. That was a Hurricane." His heart fell into his stomach, which was currently kicking up a mutiny. All hopes for a decent meal were now squashed. Sergeant Bernie was a short woman who wore a baggy, dusty jacket, worn shoes and pants so wrinkled and faded she looked as if she had slept in them for the good part of a year. She had some shade of brown hair that he saw peaking out from up her cap where it was tucked firmly away, but he also had yet to see her eyes, which were shaded so deeply by her hat that there was nothing above the tip of her nose except shadow. The worst thing was how she reacted to the situation she was in. Except for the occasional humorous but stagnant joke that came out of her, he'd seen post traumatic stress victims who looked less edgy than her.
Betty Crocker she wasn't.
"She's a cook," Potter patted a clearly deflated Hawkeye on the shoulder. "That's all we ordered, Son, and that's what we got." Hawk got out of the chair, defeated.
"Send a case of Spam to my tent, something tells me I'm going to be begging for it after a little while." He pushed out the door tiredly, and headed to his tent, just in time to see a green flash of the Sergeant as she headed into the kitchen. His moral dropped below measurable levels.
"Hey, out scouting the new nurses?" BJ was already in the tent when he got back, lying in his bed, reading.
"Naw," He shuffled over to his bed. "I went out to get the other two wounded boys and wound up with a cook."
"Sounds like a fair trade." His friend was interested, setting down the book and sitting up. "This wouldn't happen to be the cook we've been waiting all week for?"
"The one and only." Hawk muttered as he fell into bed. It wasn't that he was as exhausted as it seemed, but utter deflation took a lot out of a guy. BJ seemed to pick up on his mood and was puzzled.
"Well that's great!"
"Not unless you saw her." Hawk interjected. "The woman is a walking disaster area! Talking to her includes convincing yourself that she's actually there."
"Shy, huh?"
"She's so quite I had to cover my ears to deafen the silence. Personally, she's little impersonal. I got jumpy just being next to her." BJ waved an arm at his hyperbole.
"Who cares as long as she can cook!"
"You don't know that she can." Hawk snapped. His poor mood had made Hawkeye particularly sarcastic.
"You don't know that she can't!" BJ countered, and fell back into bed, closing his eyes and actively waiting for dinner.
"Trust me Beej," Hawk mumbled into his pillow, and sliced his hand through the air, as if cutting off the conversation. "If you'd seen this girl you'd know. She can't." And with that he drifted off, away from the hell that had just found a few more degrees of heat.
"So that's the door to the kitchen, and right there's the Mess Tent." Radar lead her around with small, quick steps. "And this is your tent!" He pushed open the door to a ragged looking canvas sack that may have passed for a tent.
"Home sweet home," She said with the smallest of smiles to Radar as she walked through the door, and flipped on the lights.
"It's not much really, but we do what we can." The floor was dirt, and one smartly made cot, one short three-legged table and a set of drawers stood at a rundown attention.
"It's perfect." She grinned more widely than she had in days and threw her bag down on the floor, sitting on her bed, bouncing slightly to test how well the cot bounced back. There was some slight give. "It isn't the four seasons, but I like it." The corporal smiled at her a little and she took it as a good sign. "Anything else?"
"I should be asking you that, Ma'am." He looked down at his notes quickly, and she took the moment to take off her hat and finally let her hair down from its place, tucked up in her hat, where she kept it when she was traveling. "Do you uh…" Radar had looked up from his clipboard just in time to see her shake out her hair. The look in his eyes told her just how ridiculous she must have looked. Like a regular shampoo commercial.
"Yes, corporal?" She was back to low muttering, suddenly feeling exposed.
"Well, Ma'am, I was just going to let you know we normally have dinner in about three hours, but the kitchens in a real state."
"It's a mess of a mess is it?" She rolled her eyes and stood. The corporal was small and helpless looking enough, but she didn't like the idea of him being in the tent alone with her. The corporal laughed a little at her attempt at a joke and followed her out the door.
"I'm sorry Ma'am."
"Call me Bernie," She made her way quickly across the compound and to the Kitchen door. "It's what everyone calls me. Now, lets take a look at this disaster areahh…" her voice faded out as she opened the door and caught her first glimpse of the inside. Empty C-ration cans, empty Spam cans and other unidentifiables filled the floor. Every cabinet was open and objects very caught in one level of cascade or another, from the counter to the floor. Large smatterings of white were evidence that someone had tried to do something with the flour. She had no idea what. "I guess nightmares really can come true." She grinned at her herself and reveled in the mess at her feet.
Radar was about to apologize again; a nice girl like her didn't deserve all this, when Bernie did something entirely unexpected. She tipped her head back and let a peal of laughter fly.
This was exactly as she'd expected it to be. Everything was too perfect. The thoughts of the emotional terror she had survived through the past months could easily be ignored with some good heavy work like what waited for her right in this Kitchen. Her bunk was hers, and only hers, no one to invade on the privacy she cherished. To top it off, Radar had informed her that she would be alone, the only mess officer, until they could find some people to work under her. She promptly told him not to worry, and take his time. She could handle this job. He looked at her like she was crazy. Maybe she was.
She didn't care.
"Radar, who do I need to tell when food's ready?" Without bothering to look at the corporal she stepped into the mess and located a trash can as she talked.
"Uh, me ma'am. I make an announcement over the PA." He watched her clean for a moment and then quickly remembered to offer his help. Before she could refuse, the sound of choppers came whining over the horizon.
She surveyed the cleaned floor happily, and then the large sets of metal platters piled high with freshly made foodstuffs. Every muscle in her body ached with the delicious pain of hard work and the sweat that ran down her body was hardly noticed until she reached for her hat in her back pocket and felt the wetness of her own forehead as she tucked her hair into her hat and pulled the brim down. Standing unsteadily, with her muscles screaming, she hefted one platter at a time to where it would be served. She'd washed all the trays she could find, and wiped down the benches. Silverware was out, coffee was made, and everything had seemed to be finally coming to order.
She caught the attention of an enlisted man walking around and asked him to tell Corporal Radar that dinner was served in twenty minutes.
"Time for a quick shower," Bernie had a habit of talking to herself when she was alone. She walked into the kitchen and picked up her jacket that had long since been discarded in the heat of the kitchen and started to untie her apron. Her thick white tank top was still stained with food and long yellow marks under her armpits. It was a good feeling though; the hard work and grime made her feel sort of glowing. She grinned at her silly feelings and looked up at the sound of the mess tent door opening. Two men still in surgeon's scrubs walked in, and she suddenly felt venerable in nothing but her long baggy pants, tank and apron. She pulled on the brim of her hat nervously.
"I don't know Hawk, it smells fine." The one on the left said. She immediately recognized the next voice.
"Oh sure, it's like carbon monoxide gas, you don't smell a thing and then WHAM…oh." He caught the sight of a familiar hat brim and quickly silenced himself.
"I…I told Radar it would be twenty minutes." She didn't know why her voice barely came out in a whisper, but she knew they'd been talking about her cooking. Normally she would have come back at the critical surgeon with something just as sharp, but they'd caught her off guard, and she hadn't been much with her quick wit lately. "I didn't even hear the announcement."
"News travels fast." Hawkeye offered and grabbed a tray.
It looked like they were expecting to be served, and she wouldn't be getting her shower. More men poured in after them, and the stream was pretty constant.
"It's not bad Hawk," BJ looked at it curiously and then popped a bite in his mouth. "You haven't touched a bit."
"Do you think I want to?" He poked at the meat wrapped in thick dough. "Did you see her? It was disgusting!"
"She's been in front of a hot stove, hot oven and not to mention we're not exactly experiencing Siberian temperatures. " BJ turned to look at the girl who was serving up the men, grinning with each one. He could barely see her face under the bill of her hat, but a smile was clearly growing. "It looks like she's trying real hard."
"A shower BJ! She could have…"
"You gonna eat that?" BJ interrupted, in half of an attempt to get Pierce to shut up, and pointed at Hawks plate. Hawk's jaw dropped.
"What?"
"It really is good," he shrugged. "And if you're not going to eat it, I will."
"No kidding?" Hawk looked down at his tray as if it were about to eat him instead of the other way around. He stabbed a bit and sniffed. Tentatively, he put the bit into his mouth and winced expectantly. In a moment his face softened into a wide-eyed expression. "Hey. This isn't half bad…" He took another forkful.
"It's amazing," BJ quipped, "I've never seen a grow man eat his own words so quickly."
Between bites Hawkeye managed a sarcastic grimace and chewed dramatically.
Clean up wasn't as bad as she'd been expecting. At the general's she, or someone on her team, would have laid out a plate of deserts right about now, but there was no way of coming up with anything half decent in the amount of time she'd had, so she'd have to wait until tomorrow to start that tradition here. She made a fresh batch of coffee and left out the clean mugs. That would have to do.
A quick mental inventory told her she had everything she needed for the breakfast she had planned tomorrow and she set out to fall into bed. The moment she was out the door her breath caught her.
It was already dark out.
For some reason she hadn't realized this simple fact, and she was terrified. Out on the road she felt safe since she'd made camp and was fast asleep well before the sun went down. But this camp was strange, and yet all too familiar when she couldn't see a thing.
It had always started like this; in the dark. She was paralyzed as she heard the sound of someone coming around the corner and a dark figure loomed in her sight. She to be as still as possible, but a rock suddenly settled with a faint crunching noise under her foot.
"Halt! Who goes there!" A male voice belted, and she cried out. "Who ho ho there Miss, settle down!" A large hand grabbed her arm and she tore away.
She wanted to scream, to tell him to leave her alone, to not touch her. But once she pushed his hand away once, he didn't touch her again.
Corporal Klinger watched the woman cower in front of him. He was about to ask her what she thought she was doing outside the kitchen when it hit him.
"Hey, you're the new Mess Sergeant aren't you? It's me, the guy in the dress." The woman seemed to settle down after hearing him talk.
"Corporal?" She stood up and strained to see him in the dark. Sure enough there was the tall hairy man, one of the many she had served that day, but his blue chiffon made him a little more memorable than the others. "God, you scared me!" She could finally breath again, and took several deep breaths.
"So I can see. Are you alright? I'm sorry if I snuck up on you there." His voice sounded genuine and she tugged on her hat, feeling his worried gaze on her.
"No, not at all, I guess I've just got a little thing about staying out in the dark in war time." She smiled at him as widely as she could and then a thought hit her. "Corporal. I seem to have forgotten where to find my tent, and could use an escort."
"Ready and willing, Ma'am, just follow me." He saluted her with zeal and she laughed lightly. He offered her his arm and she took it. Somehow this man in a dress didn't threaten her at all. She broke her limited physical contact rule for the first time in a long time.
