Believe
The sun rose on yet another day in South Korea, but instead of coming from my tent, I walked from the OR.
This was my life, as it had been every day for over a year now. I could barely remember what my life before had been. It was a dream; only a few parts remained clear in my mind.
"Good morning, BJ sir," called Radar.
If only he knew. If only anyone knew. But they would never understand.
No morning could be good, not really. Sure, I'd put on a cheery face and act like I was alright (for being in Korea, that is), but each morning my longing for my wife and daughter burned with more intensity than the day before.
But thank God for the letters.
Almost every day, Peg would write me, and I her. Those precious letters were little pieces of home. They gave me hope. They kept me going.
I would go home someday. I would see Peg and little Erin again. I had to believe I would.
Until then, I would do my job as well as I could. I would patch up kids too young to be soldiers so they could go back to the front and be injured again. I would smile and laugh and take part in Hawkeye's crazy schemes.
But I would never, ever pretend this was home. I would never stop thinking of my beautiful wife. And I would always believe in the promise of tomorrow.