The usual, I don't own MASH (although I'd like too) and the character aren't mine, but the story is.
This one picks up where G, F & A leaves off, R/R please, good, bad or not to benhoffmanihug.co.nz, email checked lots each day so response will come moocho pronto.
Said President Bush "[I'd] like to see Hawkeye and HotLips get together:" and not being one to argue with an idiot (as Frank Burns said) – I'll do as he would like.
MASH 4077, UNITED NATIONS FORCES ABROAD (KOREA): JULY 29, 1953.
"So where to Cap?" asked the pilot as the chopper lifted off from the pad
"Uh, Kimpo" said Hawkeye, "…home"
He noticed the message BJ had spelled out in rocks for him
"Goodbye Beej" he whispered, Hawkeye stopped thinking for a second as the chopper banked to his right, and it made his stomach jump.
Hawkeye stared down at the jeep carrying Margaret to the 8063rd and BJ on his bike….why? he wondered….why was it so hard for him to tell her how he felt?
Sure, she probably felt the same way, but he had so much time to let her know. They worked together, drank and shot the breeze at the officers club most nights and saw each other for nearly three years.
After whiny Frank Burns was sent stateside it should have been easy to let Margaret – who had softened and matured so much – know about his feelings.
Once she divorced Donald; it should have been a walk in the park; for something existed there. They both knew it but why they didn't say something to each other was anyone's guess.
Hawkeye watched at the hills went rolling by, he resigned himself to the fact that it was too late, he'd let the one person he truly loved get away.
Hopefully not for ever, he thought
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MILL VALLEY GENERAL HOSPITAL, MILL VALLEY, CALIF: AUGUST 2, 1953.
An elated Dr B. J. Hunnicutt sat at his desk in the surgical ward. The former army surgeon had been appointed as chief surgeon of the day shift at Mill Valley General Hospital.
His experience in Korea made him the perfect candidate. It was great to be home he told himself. After nearly a year away from home, being home was the best feeling in the world.
Although he'd missed his daughter's birthday and things had changed since he was drafted, the basic concept of American life was the same. Just like he remembered it.
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THE O'REILLY FARM, OTTUMWA, IOWA: AUGUST 5, 1953.
Radar stood on the porch, the fresh smell of hay and grass filled his nose. The grass was still fresh with dew from the night's rain. The farm seemed to stretch for miles around him, the rolling green pastures continued as far as the eye could see.
He thought about the war, the gang from the 4077th and how good it was to be home, even though he'd left before the war ended.
The animals stood in the fields, just waiting for him to make his move. He saw his Uncle Ed's Studebaker in the driveway, he missed his Uncle Ed.
Radar wondered about Patti, that nice Lt. Nurse he'd met at Kimpo, where was she, what was she doing.
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BOSTON MERCY HOSPITAL, BOSTON, MASS: AUGUST 7, 1953.
Charles sat at his desk, sunlight poring in from the large window behind him. It warmed his bald head. He chuckled as he signed surgical reports, he'd finally made it.
He glanced over to the desk sign that proudly stated in big letters "Dr. CHARLES EMMERSON WINCHESTER, III, M.D. – CHIEF OF THORACIC SURGERY"
Score! He thought to himself as he leaned back in the big soft chair the came with the job. Just as he began to be truly happy, the intercom buzzed "Dr. Winchester, you have a call on line 2"
"Damn!" he spat, probably some poor sloppy intern down in the emergency ward wanting his brilliant expertise on a surgical consult.
Figures he thought, the lower to the ground you get in the hospital, the more degenerative the people on that floor became. Emergency was on the ground floor, figured Charles mussed as he picked up the phone.
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RESIDENCE OF DR. SHERMAN T. POTTER, HANNIBAL, MISSOURI: AUGUST 8, 1953.
Sherman rubbed his eyes and hung up his stethoscope. He grabbed his weathered old fishing hat and tackle box, Mildred gave him a plastic bag with his lunch in it.
Potter kissed her and grabbed his fishing rod, 'Doc Potter' had ceased for day, and, as Sherm saw it, unless something urgent came up, he would spend the next few hours down at the ol' fishin hole with his lunch and his daily allowance of Kentucky Sippin' Whiskey.
He thought of the night when Radar told him he decided to leave (again), "I told you to sip it, 'oh I did sir' "he muttered and smiled.
It was good to be home.
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FORT RUCKER, ALABAMA, BASEHOSPITAL: AUGUST 9, 1953.
A jittery newly-promoted Captain of the Nursing Corps headed down the white hallway, the smell of disinfectant and industrial strength cleaners swilled round her head.
She was looking for the office of her new CO, a Col. M. Houlihan, to whom she knew nothing about, except that she served in Korea with a "MASH" unit, what's one of them?
Down the hall, Margaret sat at her desk, she was checking patient reports. In front of her were three photos: one of her parents, Capt. Jean and Col. Alvin Houlihan, a photo of her OCS class and the last one, well….that one was special.
There was a knock at the door, she looked up to see a Captain standing there, looking as white as a ghost. "Can I help you?" she asked.
"I'm Capt. Jane Phillip, I was told to report to you when I got here" the Captain said, waiting for an invitation to enter.
"Well?" snapped Margaret "don't just stand there, get in here!" she watched as Captain Phillip came in and sat down, a real nervous nelly.
"Sorry, I was told to always wait for an invitation to enter when in the presence of a superior officer" she said.
"Good, that's very military" Margaret said, "don't look so scared, I was just expecting someone else that's all"
She looked back at her special photo for a sec …. It was of the 4077th staff outside the swamp, her hand resting on Hawkeye's shoulder.
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THE OFFICE OF DR. B. F. PIERCE, CRABAPPLE COVE, MAINE: AUGUST 9, 1953.
"See you next week" said the tall, thin Hawkeye as he handed a patients chart to the Nurse, he signed something waved under his nose and looked beyond, into the waiting room
There were only a few patients, mostly seniors and grandmothers "good, I still have my touch" he chuckled to himself, examining the patient board outside his office.
"Mrs. Morgan" said the nurse at the front desk "the doctor will see you now" the kindly old woman with soft grey hair stirred from doze as another nurse handed him the patient chart.
Hawkeye escorted her into his office, where she took the seat opposite him. Pierce sat down and gazed past her to the photo of the 4077th staff on the wall behind her.
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BOSTON GENERAL HOSPITAL, BOSTON, MASS: AUGUST 9, 1953.
"THAT'S ALL!" bellowed an enraged Trapper John McIntyre "You expect me, the Chief of General Surgery to run a department on that kind of money?"
He listened for a second and then retorted "Listen pal? I don't care, I've seen kids getting a 'My First Doctor' set with that kind of money, but not here, not a REAL hospital…..you've lost the plot, good day to you sir!"
He slammed down the phone and pressed the intercom "Sharon! Boil some coffee, we're not finished yet!" Trapper spat out and leaned back in his chair, it was good to have such power and prestige that this job came with, but, what an admin nightmare.
Trap missed the simple life, like the one middle sized town doctor Hawkeye had. He picked up his phone and began flicking thorough his rolodex.
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OFFICE OF DR B. F. PIERCE, CRABAPPLE COVE, MAINE: AUGUST 9, 1953.
"Hawkeye?" asked Mrs. Morgan, in a tone of a concerned friend "what's wrong?"
Hawk jumped back into life with a start, "oh, nothing" he said, "I was just thinking about someone"
A nurse stuck her in the door, "I'm sorry to disturb you Dr. Pierce, but there's someone on the phone from Boston General" and with that, she vanished.
'Boston General?' thought Hawkeye, who could that be? He picked up the phone.
"Hawkeye here , can I help you?" he asked, a very familiar voice returned the greeting. "Trapper! How are you? … uh huh, say, can I call you back? I've still got people waiting to have their pockets emptied, ok? .... thanks Trap"
Pierce put the phone down and turned back to his patient, still sitting quietly.
"Sorry, anyway, back to you" Hawk said in a friendly tone.
"No," insisted Mrs. Morgan in a firm tone "Hawkeye, who is she?" she asked in a soft voice.
Hawk was taken aback, "what makes you think it's a woman I'm thinking about?" he asked, inquisitive
Mrs. Morgan leaned forward "when I saw that photo you were staring at" she said, beckoning to the picture behind here "I also that beautiful young blonde with her hand on your shoulder".
He sat upright, she was good, very good.
"Now sonny, you gon' tell me, because when you've been round as long as I have, you get smart see?" Mrs. Morgan said
Sighing, Hawkeye looked at the photo, then Mrs. Morgan, then the ground and back at Mrs. Morgan "she's someone I met in Korea….someone very special"
His patient smiled and looked him right in the eye, "well then Doctor Hawk, I'd say I can come back tomorrow, you on the otha' hand are gon' close up for the day and go find the young blonde before it's too late"
Hawkeye sighed, for an old woman that hadn't left town in thirty odd years, she was good, and boy, did she have it right this time.
So, taking the old woman's advice, he quickly pawned off his three remaining cases to his dad and set about finding Margaret Houlihan, but where on earth could she be?