Chapter Eight
Korea, 1952
The next morning at seven o'clock sharp five truckloads and three helicopters worth of wounded came into the compound. Hawkeye, BJ and Charles were woken up by a voice shouting: "Wounded in the compound! Run, don't walk, to get your very own soldier! Some assembly required!" It was the PA system. Hawkeye yawned, groaned and held his stomach as he sat up in bed. BJ could hardly lift his head. And Charles wished that the ringing in his ears would stop so that he could go back to sleep. Just then, the door banged open and Potter ran in.
"Good mornin' my fine feathered fiends! How'd ya sleep?" Potter asked.
"Like a baby." Hawkeye replied. "I'm surprised I didn't wake up in my own drool."
"That's good to hear! Now get out of bed on the double!"
BJ stood up, his head pounding. "Doubling sir!" He slid into a pair of pants. "Hell, maybe even tripling."
"Did someone say 'tripping'?" Charles asked, just now daring to open his eyes. He blinked a few times. He had never realized how bright the sun could be at seven in the morning.
"You too, Chuckles." Potter ordered. "Get up and get out. We got more wounded then you can shake a stick at."
"If that's your idea of a good time." Hawkeye said, drowsily.
Within the next few minutes the four of them had left the sleeping Jack and the Swamp and found themselves walking into another swamp, a swamp of bodies. They knew it was going to be a long morning.
******************************
Sydney walked to breakfast that morning alone. The doctors and nurses were busy in the OR and Jack, as she found out when she got to the mess tent, had woken up before her. He was already sitting at a table in the front of the tent drinking coffee. She got her breakfast and sat down across from him.
"Dad?" She asked in disbelief when she'd gotten a good look at him. "You look like you were hit by a truck."
It was true. Jack was wearing his white shirt un-tucked with no tie and the first few buttons were unbuttoned. His hair was a mess and he had dark circles under his eyes. When he spoke his voice was hoarse and he grabbed his head tighter and tighter with every word he spoke.
"Last night…in the Swamp…got drunk…so drunk…" He drifted off and gave Sydney a look that said "Please, put me out of my misery."
"I've never seen you hung-over before." Sydney marveled.
"Beautiful, isn't it? I wonder how the other three managed. They left early this morning. Some wounded came in or something. I don't know how long they've been gone, but if they feel half as sick as I do, I'd hate to be their patients."
From outside they could hear people talking. It was Hawkeye, Margaret, and BJ and they were headed towards the tent.
"I can't believe the two of you got drunk!" Margaret was saying. "I mean, I won't say it's not like you, because it is, but I didn't think you'd drag that poor man into your personal Mardi Gras."
They had entered the tent and were standing in line for their breakfast. Sydney strained to hear what they were saying.
"Poor man? Who, Jack? He practically invited himself." Hawkeye explained. He looked at his tray then at Igor and frowned. "Is there some sort of army regulation that says that all food must be tortured and killed before you feed it to us? These eggs look like they used to be road kill!" He moved on. "Besides, Margaret, what does Jack have to do with us anyway? We weren't even talking about him."
BJ smiled devilishly. "I think Margaret's got a crush."
They were approaching the table and Sydney stopped straining to hear. Jack, who was listening as well, blushed ever so slightly. Sydney started to think that there was a lot about her father that she still needed to learn.
"Hush up, Hunnicut." Margaret ordered. And then, a little lower, but still loud enough for Sydney to hear, "And I do not have a crush."
"Fine. Sure. We believe you." Hawkeye said, standing over Sydney's shoulder. "May I sit here?"
Sydney turned and smiled. "Sure."
As Hawk sat next to her, BJ went over next to Jack and Margaret took a seat at the head of the table.
"Margaret," BJ teased, "you sure you want to sit there? I'm willing to switch seats if you'd like." Margaret kicked him under the table. "Oooo, Hawk, I think we got a feisty one here."
"Mornin' troops." Potter said standing behind Margaret. Nobody had noticed he'd come in.
"Now you have to move." BJ told Margaret.
"No, no, she's fine where she is." Potter said.
Margaret gave BJ an "I-told-you-so" look.
"Actually," Potter told them, "it's Miss Bristow I need to see."
Sydney looked up from her eggs. "Me?"
"Yeah. Our very own Coco Chanel has graciously agreed to open his closet to you." He looked at Sydney. "That is, if you don't mind wearing dresses that a man has already worn."
She looked at her father then at Margaret and lastly at Potter. "Uh, yeah, I guess. It's better then wearing the same thing everyday, right?"
"Great. Follow me then."
The two of them left the mess hall and headed for Klinger's tent. When they got there, he had about twenty dresses already flung around the room and was digging around for more.
"Ahem." Potter cleared his throat in order to get Klinger's attention.
"Colonel Potter, sir." Klinger got off of his knees and stood at attention.
"At ease Corporal." Potter ordered. He picked up a blue dress off of Klinger's bed. "This little lady here has decided to take you up on your offer. I take it you've already begun to clean house, so to speak."
"Yes sir." Klinger walked over to the two of them, stepping over dresses as he went. "Miss Bristow, mi footlocker es su footlocker."
"Gracias." Sydney replied.
"You can pick out any of these dresses, but leave the ones you don't want. I need to wear something too."
Sydney spent about five minutes picking out dresses for that week. She figured that she'd only be there for a few more days, God willing. If it was longer, she could always come back for a few more. She thanked Klinger, went to her tent and changed into a black sparkling evening gown. It wasn't as nice as some of the ones she'd worn on missions but she would manage. The only problem was that it was a little big on her. She put her shoes back on and walked back to the mess tent.
The moment she walked in the door the tent got quiet. Everyone was staring at her, most predominantly of all, Hawkeye. She walked over to the table a little embarrassed. When she sat down, they all started talking again.
"Wow," Hawkeye said with admiration. "You sure look better in that dress than Klinger does."
Sydney laughed. "Thank you." For some reason, she couldn't explain it, she felt a little giddy, like she was at the prom or something.
Her food was cold but it was still, for the most part, edible. Margaret told Sydney and Jack the news on Vaughn. He was still unconscious. There was a slight possibility that he was in a coma.
"I know that that puts a damper in your plans, but there's no way of knowing whether or not he can survive the trip back. Or would it be forward? Anyway, I don't want to risk it." Margaret said.
"That's all right. We aren't exactly sure if we can go back the same way we came in the first place. I'm willing to make a bet that we can but I wouldn't stake Sydney's or Michael's lives on a it." Jack replied.
Sydney set down her fork. "Where's the clock now."
"It's still in Potter's office I think." Hawkeye said. "I don't know why he would move it elsewhere. Although, it could also be in his room. Klinger wanted him to put it in his footlocker for safekeeping."
Jack nodded. "At least we know where it is." He took one last swig of his coffee. "I think I'll go take a walk down there. Do want to come with me, Syd?"
"No, I'm gonna sit here for a while." She held up her coffee mug. "I haven't quite finished my tar yet."
BJ clapped. "You're fitting in already, Miss Bristow. Soon we'll have you drinking martinis and running Charles' underwear up the flagpole."
Jack walked out of the tent.
"I don't think so. After the way my father looked this morning, I think I'll pass on the martinis." She smiled, but after taking a sip from her coffee, the smile soon vanished. "How do you people drink this stuff?"
"Very easily," Hawkeye told her. "The day we were assigned here Uncle Sam ordered that our taste buds be burned off."
"Besides, we just choke this stuff down for meals. Then we high-tail it over to the Officer's Club for real drinks." BJ explained.
"Officer's Club?" Sydney asked, setting her mug down again.
"Yeah. It comes fully equipped with a bartender." Hawkeye pointed to the man dishing out slop across from them. "Igor. Personally, I think the only reason he hasn't been stoned to death with his own biscuits is that they're all afraid that there isn't another guy here good enough to fill his shot glasses."
"Ah." Sydney nodded. "Maybe I'll check it out while I'm here."
"Hawk'll be there." BJ told her. "He'll be the one swimming in his drink."
"Ha ha Beej. Very funny." Hawkeye looked at Sydney. "Hey. How about later on tonight I buy you a drink?"
Sydney stared at him for a moment before answering him. "I'm sorry Hawkeye, I can't." Then she stood up and was gone.
"Smooth Hawkeye, real smooth." BJ came over to sit by him and patted him on the back. "Maybe next time you want to hit on 'Future Girl' you could do it a little more subtly."
*******************************
Jack and Potter were looking over the clock in his office when Radar came in with two messages for the Colonel. The first was that Miss Bristow wanted to talk to her father and the second one was that Colonel Riley of the 4075th had finally called him back. Potter excused himself and he and Sydney crossed each other as he was leaving his office.
"My word! Klinger certainly got you all gussied up, didn't he? You look beautiful Sydney." Potter gushed.
"Thank you, sir." She replied. Radar had thought so too. The moment she had walked into the office he'd dropped the phone and stared at her for what seemed like forever. It was rather flattering but the man on the other end of the line didn't seem to think so and he kept yelling, "Radar! Pick up the phone! Hello?"
After Potter was gone Jack called Syd over to him. "Look at this." He pointed at the clock. It no longer said 10:19 as before. It now said 12:00.
"Did you change the time on this one?" She asked him.
"No. And neither did Potter. It must reset itself after it's been used."
"That would mean that the one we used…"
"Reads twelve as well." Jack finished for her. "Meaning that we can't get back until someone else sets that clock and we set to the exact time they do."
"Oh God." She moaned. "Then we're stuck here?"
"Unless someone goes into that warehouse and turns it out of curiosity."
"But no one uses it anymore. All that's in there now is old junk that was left there years ago."
"Then, yes, we are stuck here."
*************************
Nurse Kellye checked on Vaughn that night. He still hadn't moved and she was starting to wonder if maybe they should send him to Tokyo General instead. She suggested this to Margaret who turned the idea down. They couldn't risk sending someone who technically hadn't been born yet to a major hospital. She said to keep him on fluids and to check on him as often as she could. Kellye nodded and went to the next patient. Margaret sat with Vaughn for a little while hoping, for Sydney and Jack's sake, that he wasn't comatose and that he would wake as soon as possible so that they could back to their own time. That night she even said a prayer for him, hoping that God, if he existed in a place as horrible as this, would hear her and help them.
Korea, 1952
The next morning at seven o'clock sharp five truckloads and three helicopters worth of wounded came into the compound. Hawkeye, BJ and Charles were woken up by a voice shouting: "Wounded in the compound! Run, don't walk, to get your very own soldier! Some assembly required!" It was the PA system. Hawkeye yawned, groaned and held his stomach as he sat up in bed. BJ could hardly lift his head. And Charles wished that the ringing in his ears would stop so that he could go back to sleep. Just then, the door banged open and Potter ran in.
"Good mornin' my fine feathered fiends! How'd ya sleep?" Potter asked.
"Like a baby." Hawkeye replied. "I'm surprised I didn't wake up in my own drool."
"That's good to hear! Now get out of bed on the double!"
BJ stood up, his head pounding. "Doubling sir!" He slid into a pair of pants. "Hell, maybe even tripling."
"Did someone say 'tripping'?" Charles asked, just now daring to open his eyes. He blinked a few times. He had never realized how bright the sun could be at seven in the morning.
"You too, Chuckles." Potter ordered. "Get up and get out. We got more wounded then you can shake a stick at."
"If that's your idea of a good time." Hawkeye said, drowsily.
Within the next few minutes the four of them had left the sleeping Jack and the Swamp and found themselves walking into another swamp, a swamp of bodies. They knew it was going to be a long morning.
******************************
Sydney walked to breakfast that morning alone. The doctors and nurses were busy in the OR and Jack, as she found out when she got to the mess tent, had woken up before her. He was already sitting at a table in the front of the tent drinking coffee. She got her breakfast and sat down across from him.
"Dad?" She asked in disbelief when she'd gotten a good look at him. "You look like you were hit by a truck."
It was true. Jack was wearing his white shirt un-tucked with no tie and the first few buttons were unbuttoned. His hair was a mess and he had dark circles under his eyes. When he spoke his voice was hoarse and he grabbed his head tighter and tighter with every word he spoke.
"Last night…in the Swamp…got drunk…so drunk…" He drifted off and gave Sydney a look that said "Please, put me out of my misery."
"I've never seen you hung-over before." Sydney marveled.
"Beautiful, isn't it? I wonder how the other three managed. They left early this morning. Some wounded came in or something. I don't know how long they've been gone, but if they feel half as sick as I do, I'd hate to be their patients."
From outside they could hear people talking. It was Hawkeye, Margaret, and BJ and they were headed towards the tent.
"I can't believe the two of you got drunk!" Margaret was saying. "I mean, I won't say it's not like you, because it is, but I didn't think you'd drag that poor man into your personal Mardi Gras."
They had entered the tent and were standing in line for their breakfast. Sydney strained to hear what they were saying.
"Poor man? Who, Jack? He practically invited himself." Hawkeye explained. He looked at his tray then at Igor and frowned. "Is there some sort of army regulation that says that all food must be tortured and killed before you feed it to us? These eggs look like they used to be road kill!" He moved on. "Besides, Margaret, what does Jack have to do with us anyway? We weren't even talking about him."
BJ smiled devilishly. "I think Margaret's got a crush."
They were approaching the table and Sydney stopped straining to hear. Jack, who was listening as well, blushed ever so slightly. Sydney started to think that there was a lot about her father that she still needed to learn.
"Hush up, Hunnicut." Margaret ordered. And then, a little lower, but still loud enough for Sydney to hear, "And I do not have a crush."
"Fine. Sure. We believe you." Hawkeye said, standing over Sydney's shoulder. "May I sit here?"
Sydney turned and smiled. "Sure."
As Hawk sat next to her, BJ went over next to Jack and Margaret took a seat at the head of the table.
"Margaret," BJ teased, "you sure you want to sit there? I'm willing to switch seats if you'd like." Margaret kicked him under the table. "Oooo, Hawk, I think we got a feisty one here."
"Mornin' troops." Potter said standing behind Margaret. Nobody had noticed he'd come in.
"Now you have to move." BJ told Margaret.
"No, no, she's fine where she is." Potter said.
Margaret gave BJ an "I-told-you-so" look.
"Actually," Potter told them, "it's Miss Bristow I need to see."
Sydney looked up from her eggs. "Me?"
"Yeah. Our very own Coco Chanel has graciously agreed to open his closet to you." He looked at Sydney. "That is, if you don't mind wearing dresses that a man has already worn."
She looked at her father then at Margaret and lastly at Potter. "Uh, yeah, I guess. It's better then wearing the same thing everyday, right?"
"Great. Follow me then."
The two of them left the mess hall and headed for Klinger's tent. When they got there, he had about twenty dresses already flung around the room and was digging around for more.
"Ahem." Potter cleared his throat in order to get Klinger's attention.
"Colonel Potter, sir." Klinger got off of his knees and stood at attention.
"At ease Corporal." Potter ordered. He picked up a blue dress off of Klinger's bed. "This little lady here has decided to take you up on your offer. I take it you've already begun to clean house, so to speak."
"Yes sir." Klinger walked over to the two of them, stepping over dresses as he went. "Miss Bristow, mi footlocker es su footlocker."
"Gracias." Sydney replied.
"You can pick out any of these dresses, but leave the ones you don't want. I need to wear something too."
Sydney spent about five minutes picking out dresses for that week. She figured that she'd only be there for a few more days, God willing. If it was longer, she could always come back for a few more. She thanked Klinger, went to her tent and changed into a black sparkling evening gown. It wasn't as nice as some of the ones she'd worn on missions but she would manage. The only problem was that it was a little big on her. She put her shoes back on and walked back to the mess tent.
The moment she walked in the door the tent got quiet. Everyone was staring at her, most predominantly of all, Hawkeye. She walked over to the table a little embarrassed. When she sat down, they all started talking again.
"Wow," Hawkeye said with admiration. "You sure look better in that dress than Klinger does."
Sydney laughed. "Thank you." For some reason, she couldn't explain it, she felt a little giddy, like she was at the prom or something.
Her food was cold but it was still, for the most part, edible. Margaret told Sydney and Jack the news on Vaughn. He was still unconscious. There was a slight possibility that he was in a coma.
"I know that that puts a damper in your plans, but there's no way of knowing whether or not he can survive the trip back. Or would it be forward? Anyway, I don't want to risk it." Margaret said.
"That's all right. We aren't exactly sure if we can go back the same way we came in the first place. I'm willing to make a bet that we can but I wouldn't stake Sydney's or Michael's lives on a it." Jack replied.
Sydney set down her fork. "Where's the clock now."
"It's still in Potter's office I think." Hawkeye said. "I don't know why he would move it elsewhere. Although, it could also be in his room. Klinger wanted him to put it in his footlocker for safekeeping."
Jack nodded. "At least we know where it is." He took one last swig of his coffee. "I think I'll go take a walk down there. Do want to come with me, Syd?"
"No, I'm gonna sit here for a while." She held up her coffee mug. "I haven't quite finished my tar yet."
BJ clapped. "You're fitting in already, Miss Bristow. Soon we'll have you drinking martinis and running Charles' underwear up the flagpole."
Jack walked out of the tent.
"I don't think so. After the way my father looked this morning, I think I'll pass on the martinis." She smiled, but after taking a sip from her coffee, the smile soon vanished. "How do you people drink this stuff?"
"Very easily," Hawkeye told her. "The day we were assigned here Uncle Sam ordered that our taste buds be burned off."
"Besides, we just choke this stuff down for meals. Then we high-tail it over to the Officer's Club for real drinks." BJ explained.
"Officer's Club?" Sydney asked, setting her mug down again.
"Yeah. It comes fully equipped with a bartender." Hawkeye pointed to the man dishing out slop across from them. "Igor. Personally, I think the only reason he hasn't been stoned to death with his own biscuits is that they're all afraid that there isn't another guy here good enough to fill his shot glasses."
"Ah." Sydney nodded. "Maybe I'll check it out while I'm here."
"Hawk'll be there." BJ told her. "He'll be the one swimming in his drink."
"Ha ha Beej. Very funny." Hawkeye looked at Sydney. "Hey. How about later on tonight I buy you a drink?"
Sydney stared at him for a moment before answering him. "I'm sorry Hawkeye, I can't." Then she stood up and was gone.
"Smooth Hawkeye, real smooth." BJ came over to sit by him and patted him on the back. "Maybe next time you want to hit on 'Future Girl' you could do it a little more subtly."
*******************************
Jack and Potter were looking over the clock in his office when Radar came in with two messages for the Colonel. The first was that Miss Bristow wanted to talk to her father and the second one was that Colonel Riley of the 4075th had finally called him back. Potter excused himself and he and Sydney crossed each other as he was leaving his office.
"My word! Klinger certainly got you all gussied up, didn't he? You look beautiful Sydney." Potter gushed.
"Thank you, sir." She replied. Radar had thought so too. The moment she had walked into the office he'd dropped the phone and stared at her for what seemed like forever. It was rather flattering but the man on the other end of the line didn't seem to think so and he kept yelling, "Radar! Pick up the phone! Hello?"
After Potter was gone Jack called Syd over to him. "Look at this." He pointed at the clock. It no longer said 10:19 as before. It now said 12:00.
"Did you change the time on this one?" She asked him.
"No. And neither did Potter. It must reset itself after it's been used."
"That would mean that the one we used…"
"Reads twelve as well." Jack finished for her. "Meaning that we can't get back until someone else sets that clock and we set to the exact time they do."
"Oh God." She moaned. "Then we're stuck here?"
"Unless someone goes into that warehouse and turns it out of curiosity."
"But no one uses it anymore. All that's in there now is old junk that was left there years ago."
"Then, yes, we are stuck here."
*************************
Nurse Kellye checked on Vaughn that night. He still hadn't moved and she was starting to wonder if maybe they should send him to Tokyo General instead. She suggested this to Margaret who turned the idea down. They couldn't risk sending someone who technically hadn't been born yet to a major hospital. She said to keep him on fluids and to check on him as often as she could. Kellye nodded and went to the next patient. Margaret sat with Vaughn for a little while hoping, for Sydney and Jack's sake, that he wasn't comatose and that he would wake as soon as possible so that they could back to their own time. That night she even said a prayer for him, hoping that God, if he existed in a place as horrible as this, would hear her and help them.