FIFTEEN


"…Klinger, I want you and MacAllister to pick up those supplies and get back here. No dawdling," Colonel Potter instructed. "I'm also assigning a guard to go with you."


"…Lieutenant Parnelli, I'm changing the duty roster," Major Houlihan announced. "You're taking the second shift in post op #1."

"That's MacAllister's assignment," the other woman protested.

"Lieutenant MacAllister is on another assignment at the moment," the senior nurse replied. "Report for second shift, Parnelli," she reiterated, "and don't be late, this time."


The military vehicle stopped at the 4077th and the officer in charge surveyed his surroundings with suspicion. "Wait here. And watch your back. These people can be dangerous," he cautioned his driver.

The corporal asked incredulously, "A hospital unit? A bunch of nurses and doctors are dangerous?"

The officer glanced around the empty compound. "This place is swarming with subversives and Communist sympathizers," he answered as he climbed out of the Army jeep.


Captain Hunnicutt, standing near the door of the Swamp, curiously observed the officer approaching the mess tent. "Uh oh, Hawkeye," he yawned and turned to the man behind him. "You better hide your secret spy decoder ring. Colonel Flagg just arrived."

"I wonder why he's skulking around here, again," Pierce commented. "We don't have any prisoners for him to interrogate."

"Maybe he's here to tell us there's a war going on," the other doctor suggested.

"It'scalled a 'police action'," Hawkeye reminded him.

B J shrugged, "Judging from all the bloody bodies they send us, it looks like a war to me."

"To me, too. Come on. Let's go see what the Paranoid Patriot has to say." Captain Pierce called to the man, "Sorry, Colonel Flagg. But you've wasted a trip. We're fresh out of prisoners for you to torture."

"You still don't get it, do you, Pierce?" He replied with stern conviction, "If I can save even one American life from the Communist Threat...by whatever means...it is worth it." The CID man was so convinced the importance of his mission that he failed to realize how ludicrous he appeared to others.

"You're right, Flagg. I don't get it. And I don't want to. And I've had enough of this warped bad dream," Hawkeye remarked. He turned to the other doctor, "Well, Lenin, my good man, shall we return to the Kremlin?"

"Right behind you, Stalin," Captain Hunnicutt agreed.

"Just a minute, Pierce! Where's your CO?" Flagg demanded.

"He's in his office. It's that big metal building right behind you. Don't get lost on your way over there. So long, Colonel. It's been nice babbling with you. Wake me up for the next revolution."

The government intelligence officer watched them leave. "I'll dig up the evidence on you yet...comrade," he promised himself. "And then I'm going to bury you with it."

Instead of heading for Potter's office, Flagg began his own inspection of the MASH camp.


The supply truck bounced and the red haired woman awoke with a start. She straightened in the seat, stretched, and checked her watch. "We should be nearly there. Sorry about that, Klinger, I didn't intend to sleep the whole way."

"That's OK, Lieutenant. I won't tell anyone. I won't tell them that you snore, either."

"I snore?" MacAllister laughed when she realized he was teasing, "I do not snore. And I don't recommend that you make that announcement to any of my brothers. They'd be real interested in discovering just how you knew that."

"Thanks for the warning," the corporal grinned at her.

"Do you want me to drive this beast for a while?" Sarabeth offered.

"I'm all right. But, do you think could pour me of that coffee?"

"Coming right up," the woman reached for the coffee container. "Private, would you like some, too?" she asked the man sitting beside her.

"No, thank you, ma'am," the soldier smiled but alertly kept his eyes on the roadway.

With another lurch of the vehicle, MacAllister had to grab for the dashboard to keep her balance. "You want this in you or on you?" she questioned.

"Preferably in." Gingerly, Klinger accepted the partially-filled cup, "this isn't easy."

"Is anything easy---in the Army?" Sarabeth commented. Pouring herself a cup of the hot liquid, she questioned the driver, "So, tell me, Klinger, what are you going to do after this 'police action' is over?"

"Go home to Toledo," he shrugged. "Have a hot dog at Packo's, punch out Sam, Laverne's sausage man and try to pick up the pieces. After that, I'll go back to work in the textile factory."

"You worked in a textile factory? So how did you get assigned to a medical unit?" The nurse was curious.

"Typical Army efficiency," he replied. "The man at the draft board asked me if I had ever taken an x-ray. I thought he meant had I ever had an x-ray. I said yes. So here I am. What about you? Do you intend to become a 'lifer' and make the Army your career?"

She laughed, "No way! That's Crockett's idea of a good time---not mine."

The company clerk was grinning at her, "I thought that might be your answer. What do you plan to do, Sarabeth?"

"I'm not sure. When I signed up, the Hospital Board promised me I'd have my job when I returned. But now, I think I'd like to travel some, first," She continued, "I'd like to see the Statue of Liberty and the Golden Gate Bridge and every national park in between. I'd also like to see all those kangaroos and koalas Mitch keeps telling me about." Sarabeth shrugged and joked, "Maybe, I'll just join a band of gypsies."

"Camel caravans are always an option, too," the big-nosed, swarthy man offered with a smile.

"Yeah, but how do you get the saddle on them?" she teased. Then, changing topics as she often did, MacAllister asked, "Have you considered getting certification as an x-ray technician?"

He was surprised. "Me? No. I couldn't do that."

"Why couldn't you? You've had lots of experience here. And you're good at it," the woman encouraged.

The man thought about her suggestion, "I do like working with the patients and the medical staff. It would be better than what I was doing back home."

"Think about it some more. And, what the GI Bill doesn't cover; I'd like to take care of the extra expenses."

Klinger stared at MacAllister in astonishment and quickly returned his attention to his driving. "You mean that? Why?"

"Because you're my friend. And, because I have a fondness for camel drivers," Sarabeth answered, grinning.

"Help me pay for it? I couldn't do that," he protested. "I might borrow a couple of dollars for a poker game. But I couldn't take your money for something like that. Nurses don't get paid that much as it is."

"That's for sure and for certain. But, I can't think of a better cause. Besides, don't you know every Texan has four or five oil wells in the backyard? We have to use that money for some thing besides lighting the cook stove with it," she answered lightheartedly. "But I am serious about the offer, Max. And I'd like for you to think about it seriously, too."

"I will. Sarabeth, you're aces."


Lieutenant Parnelli rushed out of her tent. She was pushing her shirt tail into her fatigue pants and pulling on her jacket at the same time. Hurrying to get to the post op ward, she ran into a man standing near the hospital unit. "Sorry!" she exclaimed and continued on her way, "I'm going to be late and I do not want to scrub bed pans again."

The soldier grabbed her arm, "Just a minute. I want to talk to you."

"Look, I told you…." Monica Parnelli saw the face of the man for the first time. He was not anyone she recognized. Noticing his insignia, she apologized again, "Sorry, sir, but I'm running late."

"Do you know this man?" He showed her a blurry photograph.

"It looks like Colonel MacAllister," the woman shrugged and started on her way. He maintained his grip. "I have to get to post op!" she protested.

"I'm Colonel Flagg, CID." The officer stared fixedly at the nurse. "When I'm conducting an investigation, I get cooperation. Or I get blood. Got that?" He asked as he roughly squeezed her arm.

Eyes widening at the pressure on her arm and his threatening tone, she nodded, "Sure, Colonel. But, can we talk somewhere---inside---where it's warmer?"


"Why has this crate been opened, Sergeant?" Lieutenant MacAllister demanded. She and Corporal Klinger were standing inside the supply hut surveying the crates that had been flown in from the States.

The supply sergeant shrugged nonchalantly. "A board was split during shipment. I had to inspect for damages, ma'am," he grinned affably at her. "Those are some mighty interesting medical supplies, Lieutenant," he drawled.

Grinning back at him, she agreed, "They're very necessary to our continued good health. Were any of those medical supplies damaged?"

"Nary a one. But they sure did some damage to my taste buds. I was planning to use a little blackmail on y'all to keep some of those supplies for myself; changed my mind, as soon as I heard you talk. It's good to hear someone from back home, again."

"What part of Texas are you from?"

"I'm from Liberty."

"Ah, one of those Pineywood boys. Open up this crate, again, Sergeant. I reckon we can spare a sirloin for a fellow Texan."

"With pleasure, ma'am! And, Lieutenant, the next time you're expecting any more of these supplies, just holler. I'll make sure I have room for them; even if I have to move out some of General Herron's fresh vegetables for it."

"Fresh vegetables? You have fresh vegetables this time of year?" The company clerk and chief camp scrounger became involved in the conversation, "Hey, Sarge, maybe we can work out something."

Sarabeth laughed, "I'll leave y'all to work out trade agreements. Just remember what the colonel said, Klinger. Besides, if we don't bring back these crates soon, we're going to be lynched!"

Lieutenant MacAllister took the envelope that accompanied the packages and wandered over to a chair by the heater in the warehouse. She settled down happily to read the letters from home.


Putting away his notebook, Colonel Flagg nodded in satisfaction. "That information may be very helpful, Lieutenant." Glancing around the vacant Officer's Club, trying to catch anyone who was listening to their conversation, he leaned forward, "Memorize this number and keep me informed. I need eyes and ears inside this camp…."