"Scalpel"

Ginger slapped the instrument firmly into Henry Blake's outstretched hand.

"Man, this kid looks like he swallowed a bucket of shells for dinner." he muttered bitterly.

"And had a side order or infection to follow," Trapper said, "We'd better get him closed soon Henry, Clamp."

"Clamp."

"How's Sara, Pierce?"

Hawkeye, who was wrist deep in someone else's organs, accepted the lap sponge handed to him, "She's getting the flu bug I think... I'm sure she'll be fine if she gets a little rest, suction... Damn I can't see a thing in here, this guy's insides looks like the latrines after Sunday dinner."

"Can we have some quiet in here?" Frank Burns snapped from the far end of the operating room, "It's like trying to operate in an active mine field."

"That's a good thought Frank," Hawkeye said, "Henry, permission to put Frank out in the mine field."

"Fine with me..." Henry muttered.

"Colonel!"

"Ah relax Burns," Henry said in annoyance, "You know they're just joking around."

"Well this is an operating room!" Frank snapped.

"Could have fooled me," Hawkeye said, "When did this become an operating room? Why am I holding this scalpel? Where's my watch?"

"Oh, very mature." Frank said, rolling his eyes slightly.

"Retractor," Hawkeye said with a small smile, "Alright, let's close this one up Kellye, Radar, how many more do we have out there?"

"At least five more, HQ Seoul says we should be expecting more allied casualties in the next 72 hours." Radar replied with his clipboard in hand as he stood behind a white curtain.

"Major Houlihan," one of the nurses approached Margaret who was assisting Henry and Trapper, "We're running low on whole blood and 4-0 silk."

"Honestly," Hot Lips scoffed, "Who was in charge of ordering supplies last?"

Hawkeye rolled his eyes as the next bloodied body was rolled in on a Gurney, the man before him was no older than eighteen, a child really.

"God, this kid should be back home trying to get rid of his acne, not fighting a war..." He muttered sadly, "When are they going to learn?"

"When they watch one of their childhood friends die before them," Henry replied sadly from behind his patient, "The young ones always think they're invincible, nothing can harm them as long as they have their rifle."

"I'd hate to see what would happen to them without their rifles then," Trapper said, "Clamp this Ginger, looks like we've just about gotten all the fragments out of him."

"Looks like I'm going to be at this a while," Hawkeye muttered, "Hey Henry, might need your magic fingers when you're done over there."

"As long as I get them back eventually," Henry said in reply, "Can you finish up McIntyre?"

"Sure Henry! You know I can, I just wish I knew where my wedding ring had gotten to..."

The commander and chief rolled his eyes and quickly exchanged his rubber gloves as he moved over to Hawkeye's Gurney where he was beginning to open up the young man. The hours swiftly passed by the young surgeons, Hawkeye and Henry continued to struggle keeping the young man alive, eventually the pre-op cleared out and Radar announced that no more casualties were coming and they could probably take a break.

"Hey Trap,"

"Yeah yeah."

"Go back to the Swamp and see if Sara's okay," Hawkeye said, "She looked fairly sick, knowing her she probably hasn't don't a thing to take care of herself."

"Feed her a martini?"

"If she can take one, if not get her to lay down, check her temp, things like that." Hawkeye said as he pulled another shard of metal out of the young man.

"Sure thing Hawk, you do of course realize this mean I own your soul," Trapper said with an evil grin.

"Better than my body," Hawkeye retorted, "I don't trust you."

Trapper chuckled and walked out of the OR, he pulled his green army jacket closer around his shoulders. A bitter wind showed it's self in the camp as the night sky above became clouded over with silver grey wisps of haze. He quickly side stepped a mud puddle as he walked towards The Swamp. Inside the tent he could see the single lamp swing to and fro aimlessly, There was no sign of Frank, he had disappeared from the OR just over an hour ago and was no doubt practising mouth to mouth resuscitation with Hot Lips.

Trapper pushed the door to The Swamp and raced over to Sara's cot on the other side of the tent. She lay motionless on her small bed, her face was pale, her chest moved up and down quickly with an irregular heart beat and right away Trapper knew she had more than the flu.

"Sara?" He whispered, "Come on kiddo, snap out of it."

A slight moan escaped her lips, her eyes fluttered open, "Hey Trapper," she said with a weak grin.

"You okay?" He asked as her helped her sit up slightly.

"I.. I think so...just a bit tired."

"If you were just tired then Frank Burn's keeps dirty magazines under his cot," Trapper scoffed, "You look sick kiddo..."

"It's just the flu, I'm sure," She said quickly in her defence, "A few of the nurses were getting sick too and..."

"Well then we had better get you to the post op ward where the rest of the sickies are heading," He said with a fond smile, "Don't want you fainting on us again."

"Oh I didn't faint!" Sara snapped angrily as she sat up, there was a brief pause before she put her head down, "Urgh, let's go then..."

Trapper smiled fondly at her, "Put on your jacket, it's cold out there." But inside something troubled him as he watched his best friends daughter grapple the darkness for her khaki green coat, she look worse for wear, and if any of the generals found out then she would be sent back to the US and out of Hawkeye's protection.

'I can't worry either of them,' Trapper thought as he let the young girl lean on him, 'not until I'm certain...'