Authors note: Okay, I shall do my best not to ruin MASH for people forever. I will try not to scar anyone for life. I just want to put this girl in here; she's been in my imagination for years.

I'm just being creative with the way I start this off. I hope I don't get confusing, because I might, you know, stop making sense after a while.

Disclaimer: It might not be obvious to some people, but I actually don't own any of the characters I'm writing about, except those unrecognisable.

Dear Mom,

Here I am, mom. You're little girl is an army nurse – a Captain, can you believe it? I took care of Brett and Chris until we parted. Don't worry about them, if anything happens, I'll be here to nurse them back to help. Your kids are going to be fine.

I'm not entirely sure what their plans for me are, as yet. I have absolutely no idea where I'm going, and I don't think anyone else does, either. They're probably flipping through my files and trying to put me in the safest place possible, because I'm Beverly Jackson-Henderson's daughter.

You've been the biggest influence in my life, you and dad. I want you to know that. That doesn't mean I'm expecting anything to happen. It just means that I'm homesick and I want to be back with you.

When the three of us get back, can we have those chocolate chip muffins, please? I'm absolutely dying for them right now.

I'm not entirely sure that you want me to pour my heart out to you right now, and I don't know if I can. So I'll describe this place to you. It's actually pretty ugly, you know. Most of it is brown and grey and this sort of off-white that tells me it defiantly was white at one point, before it became dejected.

This isn't our war, you know. Someone's got to realise that at some point. I think someone will realise that pretty soon. We'll come back to you soon, mom. I love you.

Okay, so I'm not so good at withholding my feelings when I'm this far away from you. It's funny how I can tell a piece of paper all this stuff, when I just imagine the faces of my parents reading a letter home.

This kind of reminds me of those books I used to read about the women at home, reading letters from their men. That gives me a warm feeling. I doubt that any sort of warm feeling is going to stay with me for long, if that one was any example. It came and left within a few seconds.

I want to keep thinking of your faces, but I know if I do that, I'll get scared and upset and I'll cry. I have to concentrate on something now. I have to concentrate on the injured. I have to help them get better so they can get back out there and get hurt again. Actually, I don't like thinking of it that way. Even if it is true, I'd rather think of it as saving lives. Yeah, I think I'll do that.

Its going to be fine, mom. I'll write as often as humanly possible – or until my wrist breaks, whichever comes first.

I'm not even sure where I'm going to be able to post this. I'll find a place. You probably won't get it for ages, but this is just me saying a little hello from Korea. Can you believe I'm on the other side of the Pacific? Take care of yourself. I love you both.

Kate