Dear Dad…about this war…
Chapter 2- we want food!
"Well, Dad, there isn't much more I can say but good bye and I love you. I'll wait a bit to send this just in case something exciting happens today." With that, Hawkeye folded the letter and stuck it in his pocket. He looked at his watch and sighed. Reaching out, he poked BJ. "Hey, Beej." The man in questioned looked up and squinted at Hawkeye. "What do you want, Hawk?" Hawkeye grimaced. "Its time for lunch." The mound on the cot groaned. "You woke me up to tell me that its suicide time?" With another groan, the younger doctor pulled himself out of bed and pulled his boots on.
It was a peaceful day in the mess tent. Well, almost peaceful anyway. Igor was serving up lunch for the unit, and as usual, the comments about the quality of the food sounded through the line. "Igor, what is this?" Hawkeye asked, pointing his fork at the unidentifiable lump Igor had served him. "Its dinner roast, Captain. Would you like some vegetables?" The cook pointed at the lumpy green mass with the serving spoon. "No thanks, Igor. I'm not in the mood to commit suicide." A disgusted Hawkeye commented. BJ gave a wiry grin and agreed. "Thanks for trying, Igor." The pair of doctors sat down with their trays.
"Here's an idea, Beej. We crate up our food, and send it to the North Koreans. They'll be so sick, that they'll just give up and tell us that we can all go home." Hawkeye was poking at a lump on his tray cautiously. BJ scowled at his tray. "I think my dinner roast just moved. Yup, there it goes again." He shoved the tray to the middle of the table. Potter shook his head. "No, Pierce. If we send it to the North Koreans, they'll just use it for a counterattack." Hawkeye was about to respond when Frank butted in. "You ninny's! And colonel. If we send our food to the Commies, then what will we have to eat? Why would you send food to the Red's, you communist sympathizer!"
Hawkeye just looked at Frank. "Gee, I don't know, Frank. Maybe we'll eat real food if we send ours to the North Koreans. As for sending food to the 'Red's', they need to eat just as we do. We'll just give them our trash." Frank snorted. Hawkeye continued. "And as for me being a communist sympathizer, just because I care about human life, doesn't make me a communist." Frank just scoffed. "They can starve for all I care! They're commies, and I'll prove that you are one too!" Hawkeye glared at the major. "Why don't you go and polish your bible, Frank. Before I decide to glue it." Frank stormed out of the mess hall, yelling over his shoulder. "I'll get you, Pierce! Just you wait." The major pushed pass the people walking in and stomped his way to the latrine.
Margaret was walking in and just rolled her eyes. "What did you way to him, Pierce?" Hawkeye just shook his head. He took out his pen and began to write. "Guess what, dad? Something exciting did happen! Frank is trying, once again, to prove that I am a communist sympathizer, if not a communist. Another topic dad, the food here. Is there any way that you can send some food that is NOT surplus? We have food that was rejected in World War I." BJ interrupted the letter. "Why not have your dad send us some food so we can have a party? You know, cake mix, corn on the cob, steak, that sort of stuff. The 4th of July is in a couple of months. Maybe if he sends it now, it'll get here by then."
Hawkeye grinned. "Hey! Good idea! Whaddya say, Colonel?" The colonel pondered the thought for a moment, then smiled. "Why not, Pierce. Go ahead and have your father send over some food. Oh, and make sure he sends party favors!" Hawkeye grinned and bent over the paper again. "You know that the 4th of July is coming up in a couple of months, Dad. Maybe you could send us…" With a smile, Hawkeye finished the letter. The doctor gleefully laughed. "We're gonna have a party, Beej!"