ELEVEN
On the day of the company dance, almost everyone was involved in the boisterous preparations. Even though the temperatures were low, several days of sunshine had lifted every one's spirits.
After breakfast for all camp personnel had been served, several of the nurses commandeered the kitchen to make sandwiches and bake sweets for the party. Others were helping Father Mulcahy prepare tickets and make decorations. Corporal Klinger was busy arranging temporary quarters for the people from the others MASH units who were coming. The enlisted men were setting up benches and moving tables to accommodate the expected crowd.
In the Swamp, Doctors Pierce and Hunnicutt were sorting through the records they had borrowed from the jukebox in the Officer's Club and the ones that had been requisitioned from the PX in Kimpo. Even Major Winchester had donated the use of some of his personal records for the festivities.
"…And I plan on dancing with every nurse in the camp—especially all the blonde, slinky ones," Hawkeye Pierce announced as he removed another album from its packing crate. "This is going to be so much fun!"
"But you still haven't completely explained what this charity is for, Hawkeye." B J Hunnicutt commented.
"I've told you, already. It provides an opportunity for deserving children to spend some time with their parents," Pierce replied. "Now, what about this one?" He held up a vinyl disk. "The title is: 'The Evergreen Tree.' Ever heard of it?"
"But how are the children selected?" Hunnicutt persisted.
"Look, Beej. Mulcahy has all the details. And he approved of the charity. Why don't you ask him?" the man responded, almost desperately. He was running out of evasive answers.
Smirking at the other man's discomfort, Major Winchester stood and reached for his cane. "Gentlemen, this is an enlightening conversation. However, it is time for my physical therapy. Hunnicutt, do carry on," he directed as he left the tent.
The doctor from California grinned. He was enjoying Hawkeye's faltering replies. However, having enough fun for the moment, he ignored Winchester's directive and took the record from Hawkeye's hand. "I've never heard of this song or this artist. Let's listen to it on Charles's record player---while he's gone."
Initially, Major Winchester had refused to perform the walking therapy that had been prescribed; arguing that, as a physician, he knew what was best for his own treatment. He had been harangued by Hunnicutt, Margaret and Sarabeth, all of whom who had insisted that he needed the exercise to strengthen his leg. Pierce has also argued against him; using his position as Chief Surgeon to issue his medical orders. Colonel Potter had topped them all, making it a military order. So, reluctantly, he had been following instructions.
As least the rain had finally stopped and the mud puddles were drying. Now, he could walk outside, rather than pacing endlessly up and down the wooden planks in the hospital ward.
A week after his injury and his knee was still bothering him. He had planned to participate in the party. He wasn't certain he would be able to manage any dance steps, however.
"Good morning, Major," Lieutenant Parnelli called to him as he passed by her tent. She hurried to catch up with him.
"Good morning, Lieutenant," the man from Boston replied courteously. Inwardly, he sighed in annoyance.
"Are you going to the dance this afternoon?" the nurse asked as she walked with him.
"If I am able; yes," he answered and increased his stride, slightly. He preferred to walk alone, so no one would witness any of his stumbles.
Lieutenant Parnelli increased her pace, as well. Obviously, she intended to accompany him. "Are you going to save one dance for me?" she asked. She looked at up him expectantly.
"If I am able, Lieutenant, I shall certainly save a dance for you." Winchester replied. Thinking to add to his tent mate's torment, he added, "Although, I overheard Captain Pierce say he was hoping to spend most of his time with you."
"Really?"
Seeing her hopeful expression, the major regretted his words. "He mentioned that dancing with you was definitely on his agenda," he clarified.
"Well, maybe I'll dance with him and maybe I won't," the woman declared. "There's going to be a lot of new people here, today. I heard that some of the 121st Evac. Hospital doctors were coming. And, that Colonel Hodges is coming, too. But, I bet he stays with Major Houlihan the whole time." Even though the man was not responding, she persisted in her conversation, "Maybe he'll bring Captain Williams with him. I wouldn't mind spending more time with him. Do you think Mitch Cochlan will be here?" she asked.
"I have no idea," he replied in exasperation. "I suppose it would depend on field conditions and his commanding officer."
"I hope he doesn't come. It would serve her right," Parnelli spoke resentfully. "After the way they were behaving the other day! It was disgusting."
Stopping suddenly, Major Winchester turned to woman in surprise, "What do you mean?"
"You didn't see them? The way they were standing here, right in the middle of the compound, slobbering on and pawing at each other before he left?" Seeing his confusion, she continued, "That's right. You were still flat on your back in the hospital bed. You're lucky, Major. You missed a revolting sight!"
"Excuse me, Lieutenant," the officer responded in a stiff but polite manner. "I'm tired. I believe I shall return to my quarters."
Closing the door hard, Major Winchester sat down on his cot and roughly set his cane to one side. When it fell, he reached for it angrily and shoved it under his bed.
"Is something wrong, Charles?" B J asked in concern.
Pierce added, "Or is this your usual temper tantrum?"
Ignoring the inquiries, Winchester stated, "Gentlemen, I am fatigued. I intend to rest. Do take your idiotic and inconsiderate ramblings elsewhere. Like, to the minefields."
Looking at each other, the two men shrugged, not understanding his animosity.
"I was going to see if I could help myself to a cookie or a piece of cake, anyway," Hawkeye announced. He placed his Stetson on his head and fastened his jacket. "Coming, B J? It'll be warmer outside than staying in here with all this cold shoulder."
"I think I'll try to call Peg, instead. Just to see how they're doing," Hunnicutt followed the other man out of the tent.
"Cretins," Winchester muttered as the door closed behind them.
"B J keeps asking me things I can't answer. Like who sponsors the charity and how the children are selected. I'm running out of things to tell him," Captain Pierce was explaining to the red haired woman who was arranging cookies on a serving tray.
"You could try telling him the truth," Sarabeth offered.
"No. It has to be a surprise for him. That's the main idea," Pierce was adamant.
"Well, Hawkeye, if you aren't willing to tell B J what you've got planned, then, I reckon you're going to have to keep ducking the issue." She added, with a grin, "And try not to quack up in the mean time."
"Lieutenant MacAllister!" Corporal Goldman ran into the kitchen. "Some farmer just brought Sophie in. And she's hurt. Colonel Potter would like for you to help him treat her."
"Tell the colonel I'll pick up a surgical pack and I'll be right there," the nurse directed. She removed her apron and reached for her jacket. Seeing that she was occupied, the dark haired man with the Stetson, reached for one of the cookies she had placed on the table. "Stop that!" MacAllister lightly swatted his hand and moved the platter away. "These are for the dance," she informed him. "Kellye, Linda, watch him," she spoke to the two women nearby. "And don't let him sweet talk you into stealing any sweets."
When Colonel Crockett MacAllister arrived at to the 4077th camp, he was greeted with smiling faces. Their excitement was obvious. Looking around at the countryside, he hoped nothing would spoil their plans. The extra men he had deployed to patrol the perimeter should help prevent any unwanted surprises.
Corporal Klinger, coming out of the mess tent, juggled a box in his arms and saluted the officer, "Good morning, sir."
His salute was returned. "Howdy, Corporal," the Texan drawled. "It looks someone kicked the anthill."
Klinger nodded in agreement. "With the dance starting soon, everyone's busy trying to get ready for it." He lifted the officer's bag from the back seat of the vehicle. "Sir, Colonel Potter asked if you wouldn't mind staying in the surgeon's tent. We have some senior nursing officers scheduled for the VIP tent."
"That will be fine. Hang up my Class A's, will you?"
"Would you like to have your uniform pressed, Colonel? There's a Korean family who's taking care of that. It seems like there's a lot of business for pressed suits today."
"Fancy that." Crockett MacAllister grinned. "How about Sarabeth's uniform? Has it been taken care of?"
The company clerk assured him, "The very first one.
"Then add mine to the list." The colonel took out his wallet and handed a few dollars in military script to the corporal. "That should take care of Sarabeth's too. Where's Colonel Potter?"
"He's out in the corral with Sophie. So is the Lieutenant."
"Thanks, Corporal. After I talk to him, I need to place a call to Mrs. Granbury, in Tokyo," MacAllister said. "She left a message for me yesterday and I haven't had a chance to return her call."
"Isn't she the general's wife who is going to baby-sit for Captain Hunnicutt?" Klinger asked. "I hope she hasn't changed her mind."
"Me, too," the red haired soldier confessed with a grin. "Otherwise, I may find myself taking care of little Erin."
"Why, hello, Colonel," Nurse Monica Parnelli greeted the officer. She had come from around the corner of a tent beside the men. "I didn't know you were coming, today."
"Yes, ma'am," the Texan greeted her with a smile. "Wild horses couldn't keep me away."
"Then, would you save one dance for me?" she asked.
"I would be honored to dance with you," he replied courteously.
"Good. How about you, Corporal?" Parnelli turned to the other man, "Would you save a dance for me?"
Klinger gulped, "Sure, Lieutenant. But, I have to warn you, I'm not a very good dancer."
"That's all right. I just want to make sure my dance card is filled. See you there."
After the woman left, the two men glanced at each other. MacAllister simply shrugged and stated, "I'll be at the corral." He headed towards the outskirts of the camp.
"That's a good sized gash, Colonel. But I reckon we can suture it without too many problems," Lieutenant MacAllister commented. "If Sophie will cooperate," she added as the horse lunged against her rope.
"She's always been a mite skittish. Having the camp hit by artillery has made her worse, however," the older officer observed.
"I wonder why?" Sarabeth asked dryly. She looked towards the compound and smiled. "If you're willing to wait a few minutes, sir, we'll have someone who can help hold her."
When Crockett arrived at the corral, Sarabeth was leaning against the railing. "Out for your morning constitutional, big brother?"
"You bet. I came all the way to Korea---just to take this stroll, little sister. Good morning, Colonel. I see you got Sophie back."
"A farmer returned her earlier this morning," Potter replied happily. "We were just about to treat her injuries."
"Which is where you come in, Crockett," Sarabeth explained. "We need someone to hold her."
Smiling at her, he asked, "Why don't you just call Houston to handle it? He's the veterinarian in the family."
"Animal doctors do not make horse calls, that's why," the woman retorted.
Her brother grinned and approached the mare. "Easy, girl." With a skill honed by years of experience, MacAllister held the horse securely. He patted and talked to her as Colonel Potter began his work. Sarabeth held the instrument tray and grinned at her sibling. He smiled back at her. "You're thinking about the time Uncle Lamar wanted me to hold down that half-broke bronc while he tried to castrate it, aren't you?"
"That scene does come to mind. I must admit, you did hold onto that horse; as he jumped the fence; and ran through the corn field; and crossed the creek bed; and headed for the next county." The woman chuckled in remembrance, "I also recollect that Uncle Lamar wasn't too pleased with the situation."
"Neither was the bronc," Crockett answered with a grin.
