THIRTY FOUR


December 14th: 0800 hours

"…Listen to this," Hawkeye Pierce announced to his tent mates. He was reading the nearly two month old edition of the Crab Apple Cove Courier that had just arrived. "Mrs. Lewis Clewis," he laughed in delight at the name before continuing, "reported to the Biddeford Police Department that someone smashed the Halloween pumpkin she had placed on her porch step. She said the carving of the face of the president into the pumpkin had taken many hours and that she was devastated by the loss. The chief said they would catch those rapscallions…." he lowered his paper to look at the other men "…rapscallions---isn't that a terrific word!"

"Terrific, really terrific," Captain Browne replied. Rather than listen to the home town news, he was trying to play a game of solitaire. He had only found 51 cards; he was playing anyway.

Charles Winchester folded the letter he had been reading and placed it on his desk. He pulled on his coat and began to fasten the buttons. "I believe I will try the mess tent; perhaps there is something edible, today."

"I'll come with you!" Browne jumped up from his bed and followed the senior officer outside.

"Was he really going to read that entire paper out loud to us?" He asked as they crossed the compound to the mess tent.

"Quite possibly," the major replied. "It's his way of proving that he can read." The man sighed, "I never realized how much of bulwark Hunnicutt created against Pierce."

Worried, the captain asked, "Hunnicutt is coming back, tomorrow. Right?"

"One can only hope."


Sitting at a table, Major Winchester curled his lip in disgust at the swill that has been plunked on his plate. He closed his eyes and tried to envision his last meal at the White Lotus. At least he could still remember good quality food. He opened his eyes in time to see Lieutenant MacAllister entering the tent.

"Good morning, lieutenant. That's a nice hat you are wearing today."

The woman gave a snort of disgust, "It's sure not a Stetson." She pulled the covering from her head and shook out her braid. MacAllister grimaced and announced, "Hats give me headaches."

"Nonetheless," Winchester insisted, "you will be wearing one every time you step outside, won't you?"

Sarabeth grinned, "You're as bossy as Crockett; you know that? That must be a trait of all big brothers."

"Caused, no doubt, by having to deal with little sisters," Winchester retorted. Gesturing to the bench beside him, he said, "Would you care to join me? The food is atrocious but your company will be appreciated."

"Not right now, sir," she looked over at the table where Corporal Klinger was sitting. "I need to speak to our superior scrounger."

"And what pranks are you planning with our plundering pilferer?"

"I can't tell you that," the Texan smiled. "It's a secret."


"Klinger, have you had any luck finding me any small bottles?" Sarabeth MacAllister asked as she sat beside the company clerk.

"Sorry, lieutenant," the man shook his head. "The only things I've found so far are some urine specimen bottles."

"Those won't do. I need some small bottles with lids. I'm depending on you, Sam."

The man smiled. He adjusted an invisible fedora on his head and replied, confidently. "I'll find them, ma'am," he promised. "Detective Sam Klinger never gives up on a case."

"I'm so glad. Your usual fee, of course?"

"Yes. One dozen chocolate…"

His words were lost as the public address system was activated. "We've got an ambulance bus coming into the compound. Rise and shine, folks."


"How long have we been in the OR, so far?" Colonel Potter wondered.

"Too long," Lieutenant Campbell remarked, "much too long."

The two of them were sitting on a bench outside the operating room. Taking a break, they were scheduled to return to duty, soon.

"You're right about that." Standing and stretching, Potter yawned. "Well, we still have about ten minutes left. I'm going to take a quick nap in that cot over there."

Corporal Klinger approached. He was carrying a tray from the mess tent. "Good evening, sir and madam. During the intermission from this evening's delightful entertainment, may I interest you in something from our snack bar? A cup of coffee, perhaps? Or a delicious deli sandwich?"

The surgeon waved him away, "Not unless you can chew it for me."

"I'll take the coffee," the nurse replied. "Just add some arsenic to it."

"Coming right up," he handed the mug to the woman.

Before she had the chance to sample the coffee, an announcement was made: "And now, back by popular demand, ambulances in the compound. All available personnel report to triage, immediately. One more time, folks."

"Didn't we just leave this party?" The company clerk groaned in tired frustration.