This is fun for me to write. I liked adding in Jimmy and seeing what happened. BJ is starting to sound like Hawkeye though. I need to fix that.
Disclaimer: Only Jimmy is mine. The rest aren't. But I made Jimmy cool so go me!
"If this bullet had gone any deeper into this boy, it would have come out of the other side of him," Colonel Potter declared as he prepared to operate on a young private.
"Maybe it would be better to go in through his back?" I suggested, elbows deep in a lieutenant.
"Nah," the colonel said as he inspected the wound. "I don't want to mess around with his spinal cord."
"Colonel?" Radar said as he peeked his head through the door, haphazardly covering his face with a mask.
"Yes, Radar?"
"Captain Frishman just arrived. Should I show him to the Swamp?"
"No, Radar. No time for that. Have him..."
"I'll tell him to get all sterile." Radar quickly hurried off.
Frank cringed.
"Something wrong, Major?" the colonel asked, looking up momentarily.
"Don't you find it annoying when he... does that? I mean thoughts are to be private. It's like he's invading your privacy."
"Really Frank, I wish you'd just shut up," I sighed as a new patient appeared in front of me and I slipped on a new pair of gloves.
"Colonel!" Frank whined.
"Play nice, boys. Let's not show Captain Frishman all of the immaturity this unit has in the first five minutes of his stay."
Just as the name was mentioned, Captain Frishman opened the door, stepping into the operating theater unsurely. "Captain James Frishman... where do you want me?"
"Over there," Colonel Potter said, pointing a bloody gloved finger towards the empty operating table.
"Nurse Quinn, assist Doctor Frishman," Margaret directed to a young red-haired nurse. The head nurse walked across the OR, her eyes still on Frishman. "Welcome to the 4077th, Doctor."
"Thank you," he muttered, putting on his gloves.
About three hours later I hobbled out of the OR, shedding my scrubs as I went. I instinctively collapsed on the bench, leaning against the wall. I watched as Captain Frishman did the same.
He let out a long sigh. "Is it always like that?"
"No," I chuckled tiredly. "It's normally worse. Those were light casualties."
"Oh boy," he said sarcastically. "James Frishman." He reached out his hand.
"BJ Hunnicutt." I shook his hand weakly. "You did pretty good in there, James. Better than my first time at least."
"How long have you been here, BJ?"
"Probably about four months now. I think I lost count after the first week. This schedule really screws up the internal clock."
"I bet." James gently brushed his blonde hair out of his face as he watched other personnel come in from the OR. Margaret made eye contact with me and then headed towards us.
"You did great in there, Doctor Frishman." She smiled.
"Major Houlihan, right?" Margaret nodded. "Thanks, Major. Oh, by the way, you can call me Jimmy."
Margaret smiled sweetly and walked away, looking back once to see the young man smiling at her.
I poked James' arm. "So she can call you Jimmy but I can't?"
Jimmy shook his head and smiled. "You can call me Jimmy if you want to. It's what my family calls me, and my girl too."
"Ah," I said. "You've got a girlfriend back home?"
Jimmy nodded with a huge smile. "I'll show you a picture sometime. I have her packed away right now. I think that corporal took my bags... O'Reilly or something?"
"Radar," I stated.
"Yeah, him. He said he was taking them to the Swamp. Mind explaining that to me, BJ?"
"The Swamp is the tent where I live along with Major Burns." I hesitated. I wanted to say Hawkeye too, but my mind knew that it wasn't true any more. "And you now."
"Oh. Major Burns. Was he the one on the far left?"
"Yeah, that's him."
"Seems like an ass."
I smiled. "Your first impression was almost correct, Jimmy. Frank Burns would tell you himself that he's a major..."
"That makes him a major ass. I get it," Jimmy chuckled.
"C'mon Jim," I said, getting up. "Let's head towards the tent and get you unpacked."
"'Kay," Jimmy responded, slowly standing.
He walked along side of me in the darkness of the late hour as we neared the Swamp. We briefly discussed our families on the way. As soon as we were in the tent, Jimmy searched through his bags and found the picture of his girlfriend, Emma.
"She looks nice." I stared at the small photo of a slender young woman.
"She is," he said.
"I can tell by that smile of yours. It looks like your lips have gone MIA. Want a drink?"
I poured my new tent mate a glass from the still. I finally realized that it was almost empty. No wonder I hadn't felt much for the last few days. I had been drunk most of the time and I didn't even know it.
I watched as Jimmy Frishman took a sip of the martini, making the same face that I had when Hawkeye had given me my first one over four months before.