Dear Hawkeye,
Sounds like you're having some moral dilemmas, at least that's what I gathered from your last letter. Be careful what you decide to do, if you make a choice and change you're mind later on Sara might not be willing to forgive you. Don't let your ruffled emotions get in the way of what you have to do, remember, you made the right choice before by adopting her.
I suppose the weather has been sort of rainy now that October is upon you, good luck with flu season, I imagine you'll nee it if it's even half as bad over there as it is here. Enclosed you'll find a few random objects I thought might be liked around the 4077th and something of your mothers that I thought maybe Sara would like to have. Give my best to Trapper John, Radar, Henry Blake, Klinger (Is he still wearing dresses? Has he tried a mink stole yet) And yes, even Frank and Hot Lips. I look forward to your next letter.
-Dad
xXx
She was completely numb, it had taken Trapper a good fifteen minutes to sew up the jugular and get the bleeding under control. She had her finger jammed in that mans neck for fifteen minutes, it was a different experience... Not the same as simply getting your hands bloody from simply operating, no this was different, she could feel the cells roll past her gloved hand and down into his body, desperately trying to continue their circulation and not let the heart of the man fail. But man wasn't the right name for him, he was more of a boy, Corporal Christopher Everett, and he looked no older than eighteen. Somewhere in the back of her mind a voice said that he was younger than that and had undoubtedly used some sort of fake identity to get into the army.
'Why would people want to volunteer to kill others?' She wondered thoughtfully as she watched the Corporal, 'I understand the need to defend ones country... but isn't that what the other side is doing? So why are they the enemy and we're the good guys.'
"How you doing kid?" Trapper asked as he continued the slow process of stitching up the wound.
"Fine," She replied weakly, "Better than him at least... what do you think happened?"
"I'm guessing a shell went off near his neck." Trapper replied, "That would explain the burnt skin around the wound, Ah.. Done." He knotted the silk and cut it off, clearly please with his work. "Alright Ginger, bed for one open here! How you doing Hawk?"
"Pretty good, my fingers feel like their swimming in a pool of metal though." Hawkeye called from his table, "I've got it under control though," He said, anticipating Trapper's next question. "Just keep the line going, Forceps."
The cormen brought another man to the table where Corporal Christopher had been laying only moments earlier, from that moment on everyone in the room worked like robots, many of the nurses were able to anticipate the doctors needs and hand them the instruments they needed before they even asked. That made the lines move faster but as Radar had said, more casualties did arrive and once more th OR was packed full and supplies were running low.
Time passed by slowly, Sara was relieved that she did not have to stick her finger into another man's neck, her hands felt weary after that, as if they were slowly melting away from her bones... This of course was all in her mind and she knew she had to refocus on the situation at hand, a man with lacerations to his liver and one bullet imbedded in the left ventricle, another with a leg half blown off from a close encounter with a shell, another and another and so the killing and death continued and so they worked like robots. They had no purpose except to fix those that were broken and send them out into the field once more.
She wasn't like Trapper or Hawkeye, or Henry or Frank. They couldn't lose it, they couldn't snap. They had to continue to work without thought or emotion to what they were doing, but she, she could leave. She could snap under the pressure, nurses did everyday, but she wouldn't be like the rest. The 4077th had given her a new chance and she wasn't going to throw that away, whether she found it disturbing or not, Sara would continue to work beside the surgeons and continue the never ending circle of war.
Those select few seconds they had to save a mans life turned to minutes and the minutes swiftly turned to hours and the hours rolled on and on and on...
"Sara?"
She was standing in front of an empty table, there was no more wounded, the scent of blood still hung in the air, death, that vial scent she could not escape even if she wanted to. Hawkeye was behind her.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, Im fine," She muttered, "Is that all of them then?"
Hawkeye smiled sadly at his daughter, "Yeah, it is... You did good today kid."
"Thanks." She grinned, or tried to but failed, "How long were we at it?"
"Seventeen hours," he replied, "thought we were gonna lose you a couple times, you looked like you were going crazy."
Sara laughed as Hawkeye led her away from the table, "Not yet," She threw her bloody gloves into a bucket by the door and began washing her hands, the right still tingling from the odd experience of being literally inside a human body. "You look worse for wear," Sara noted as Hawkeye waited patiently for her to finished washing her hands.
It was true, he looked exhausted, dark circles had formed under his eyes and he seemed to drag himself across the floor.
"Im just tired," Hawkeye explained as they shed their scrubs and pulled on the army issue jackets which hung on pegs by the door, "Didn't get much sleep last night,"
"Well you can zonk out back at the Swamp," Sara said with a grim smile as they opened the door leading out into the compound, "That is... if we can actually get back to the Swamp... alive."
"Once more into the breeches dear friends," Hawkeye muttered, "Remember, if you fall down and get stuck just lay on your back so you can get air."
"That's helpful." Sara muttered, "I think I'll just scream a lot instead."
"That works too."
The wind was against them, both their faces were severely numb by the time they reached the Swamp, the breeze had spun icy cool droplets of water into their body, soaking both from head to toe. Mud was cacked over their pant legs, if their jackets were pulled any closer they would disappear altogether.
"Geez, you guys look like you had a run in with a heard of buffalo." Trapper observed as he looked up from the magazine he had been reading.
"Close, Just a bit of South Korea," Hawkeye replied, "Want some?"
"My doctor said The war was dangerous, I didn't realize he meant war weather." Trapper chuckled as he leaned over and poured Hawkeye a glass of turpentine from the still, "The kid doesn't get any though, it's dangerous."
"I resent that." Sara said as she stuck out her tongue at him and sat down on her cot.
"I was talking about Frank, here's your glass."
"Oh, you guys!" Frank was sitting on his cot reading the bible, clearly annoyed by Trapper's comment.
"Please Frank, not around the lady." Hawkeye said, "Or Sara even."
"Now I resent that." Trapper said as he adjusted the bucket on his cot where rain continued to stream down from.
"Maybe we can ask Radar to put a requisition in for a new tent," Hawkeye said thoughtfully as he watched Trapper arrange himself so he sat around the bucket.
"Better yet, ask him to fill out the forms for a new war," Sara replied, "One with less blood or mud."
"You're a poet and you didn't even know it!" Trapper chuckled as he sipped his martini look-alike.
"That's not funny." Hawkeye muttered
"I wasn't trying to be."
"Stop it!" Sara laughed, "What time is it anyways?"
"Just about quarter past six," Trapper replied as he looked at his watch, "Do we want to risk our lives in the weather and go over to the mess tent?"
"We're risking our lives in the mess tent even without the weather." Hawkeye retorted, "I hear they're serving some old part of a chicken that has no specific use."
"How lovely." Sara muttered, "I don't know about you but I've just lost my appetite for the whole war."
"Come on," Hawkeye said as he stood up and placed his Martini glass down on a shelf, "Need to keep up your strength, the walk will do you good..."
"But the food won't help at all." Trapper finished.
They weren't wrong about that, the food was quite disgusting, after waiting in line patiently they took their trays and filled up on World War two surplus mashed potatoes, mysterious chicken parts, something that resembled creamed spinach and something that looked half burnt.
"I think my burned block of wood just moved," Trapper sad as he sat down in between Margaret and Radar at one of the Tables and poked the burnt food-like item with his knife.
"We're very fortunate to have this much food," Margaret said sternly, "You should be grateful for what you have."
"Grateful?" Hawkeye asked, "I can use these mashed potatoes as plaster for casts! This burnt thing which looks suspiciously like a charcoal briquette could be used to feed the fire back at the swamp!"
"Many people aren't eating as well as this," Frank said smugly.
"Well would they like my dinner?" Trapper asked, "Because I'm not hungry..."
"That's enough Peirce, McIntyre," Henry said with a tired voice from across the table, "Settle down."
"Henry, with that sort of command, how can we disobey you?" Hawkeye asked as he made a mocking salute.
"Colonel, They're mocking your position of authority!" Margaret snapped.
"As long as they put it back when they're finished." Henry replied, half asleep with his head in his hands.
Sara grinned and poked her dinner thoughtfully, Hawk and Trapper were certainly right, the food was quite questionable. Margaret and Frank were also right... They were lucky to be eating so well and so, with a willing heart but unwilling stomach she began eating, very, very slowly.
"We'll you're braver than me." Hawkeye replied, "Here Radar, this might help you grow." He leaned over and dumped the contents of her tray onto the Corporal's who was hoovering down his food faster than imaginable.
"That's not very nice." He managed through a mouthful.
"It never is." Hawkeye replied with a grin.
xXx
Several Days later
Trapper was on the night shift, His internal clock woke him up right on time, the sky was darkened, the raining seemed to have stopped, only a select few droplets fell through the open area over his cot, just slightly irritating. He yawned and looked over, Hawkeye was sleeping soundly, he needed it, he had been going on too many long shifts. Trapper turned to look at Sara who was sitting on her cot and reading quietly.
"Hey Kiddo," he whispered, "What are you doing up?"
"Can't sleep." She replied, "You going on duty?"
Trapper nodded.
"Can I come with you? It'll give me something to do."
"Sure thing," Trapper smiled slightly, "Better grab your jacket, it's probably freezing out."
She grinned and grabbed her jacket, after quickly stuffy her feet in her boots she followed the curly haired doctor out into the peaceful night. Not a soul moved in the darkness of the compound, it was quite possibly the most enjoyable time Sara had ever encountered while being in Korea.
There were two nurses in the post-op ward, One The young girl recognized, the other Trapper had pointed out as the newest victim of the 4077th, Emma Korton, the one Hawkeye had been pining for so much. Trapper moved right over to bed three where Corporal Christopher Everett lay, now awake but still clearly weak.
"Hey buddy, you're awake." Trapper grinned as he picked up the clipboard hanging on the bed frame, "You had us worried for a while there on the table, you're lucky we had someone with small fingers."
Sara rolled her eyes and shivered slightly from the rather sickening memory.
"What do you mean?" The corporal asked in slight bewilderment.
"Sara, stop hiding behind me," Trapper said, the girl gave an unwilling sigh and stepped closer to the young man, "We would have lost you if she wasn't there."
"Do I... want to know why?" He asked timidly.
"Not if you want to keep your supper down." Sara replied with a wary smile, "How are you feeling?"
"Better," he replied slightly. He had deep brown eyes that bore down into Sara's soul, she felt her heart leap in her chest as he looked her over. "You're awfully young to be so close to the front.. Or even in Korea for that matter."
"You're stats are fine, I'll leave you two to talk." Trapper said, winking at Sara who simply glared at him. She waited till he was far enough away before replying to the Corporals comment.
"I could say the same thing about you," She replied swiftly, "How old are you, sixteen? Seventeen at the most?"
"Eighteen!" He snapped, a long pause followed as Sara stared at him with her icy blue eyes, he wasn't the only one with shocking features and the ability to read another's soul. At last he sighed, "I'm turning seventeen in just under a week." He replied glumly, "But don't tell anyone, I don't want to get sent home."
"Why not?" Sara demanded, "You're risking so much being out here!"
"I know that," He replied smugly, "But both my brothers signed up, I was going to be sent to a foster home so we forged a birth certificate and got me in to the force under the same command as them."
Sara smiled to herself, His story reminded the young girl of her own, The prospect of going to a foster home or orphanage had been the main cause of her determination to stay at the 4077th.
"Well what about you?" He asked suddenly, "You didn't tell me what you're doing here, I know you're too young to be signed up."
"It's a long complicated story," Sara replied with a sigh, "Let's just say it involves an abusive family and an orphanage. I managed to convince General Hammond to let me stay here... Shortly after I got adopted."
"Wow," The corporal muttered, "Some story..."
"Yeah..." Sara murmured with slight amusement.
"Aw, geez. I haven't even introduced myself. Im Chris Everett." He said with a angelic grin.
"Sara Howard, or Pierce depending on who's asking." She replied as she shook his out stretched hand, "Welcome to the 4077th."
"Thanks," He replied, "So is that..." he motioned at Trapper who was a few beds over checking another patients condition.
"No, that's not my dad, good enough though. That's Trapper, he's one of the best surgeons we have here."
"Neato..."
"I have to go," Sara said suddenly, looking over at Trapper who was motioning for her, "I'll come visit you later... And don't worry, I won't say anything."
"Thanks." Chris said with a weak grin.