THIRTY EIGHT
Dec. 24th: 1100 hours
Tired and cold from their journey by truck, used to grim circumstances, the Korean children were hesitant, at first, to even smile at the people who were hosting their party. However, with cups of hot cocoa and warm, loving hugs being dispensed; and the prospect of presents, excited laughter soon filled the tent.
Grinning happily, two of Santa's most unusual helpers, Hawkeye Pierce and B J Hunnicutt were watching the activities inside the mess tent. In one corner, a small scruffy-looking tree had been set up. It was decorated with tongue depressors, forceps, strips of bandages and other medical supplies. Paper chain garlands and Korean brush wreaths were hung along the support poles.
Nearby, Colonel Potter was demonstrating the galloping motions and whinnying noises of a wooden horse to one of the boys. On the floor, Corporal Klinger was having a car race with two other boys. At the serving table, Sarabeth MacAllister was handing out cookies and sandwiches to anyone who looked hungry. Margaret Houlihan was reading a story to a little girl who was snuggling in her lap. Nurse Kellye was playing 'dress up' with another little girl. Mulcahy and another waif were sitting at the piano, plunking away at some tune.
Almost everyone was having a good time. Charles Winchester, in between bouts of coughing and sneezing, was arguing with the director of the orphanage about something. Other than a professional concern for his increasing cough, Hawkeye ignored him. He looked around. Sitting in a corner by herself, away from all the festivities, was Monica Parnelli.
Elbowing his tent mate, and gesturing in her direction, the men made their way towards her.They settled down on either side of the woman and Pierce announced, "Ho-ho-ho. It's me; your favorite Christmas gift---just waiting to be unwrapped."
"Or maybe you'd prefer some powdered eggnog, instead?" Hunnicutt offered the nurse a cup of that very drink.
The woman looked up. "No thanks," was her only comment.
"What's wrong, Monica?" Hawkeye Pierce asked in concern. "Are you feeling all right?"
"I hate Christmas," the woman announced. "Everyone's so happy; and carrying on about presents and everything. But, there never are any presents," she added bitterly. "It's all so stupid. I just wish it was over."
"Well, now, Missy," Hawkeye volunteered, "I happen to know that there is a very special present, in Santa's bag, just for you. You'll be receiving it tomorrow at our party."
"Really?" Parnelli stared at him, trying to determine if he was making some joke at her expense.
"Scout's honor," the man replied earnestly.
Leaving her with a smile, Captains Pierce and Hunnicutt returned to sample another sugar cookie from the overflowing tray.
"Hawk," B J asked in concerned, "what if there isn't anything for her under the tree tomorrow?"
"There will be," the dark haired man answered as he bit into his treat. He tried to catch the pieces as it crumbled. "I'll give her my favorite Hawaiian shirt."
"And, that's supposed to be special?" Hunnicutt asked with a grin.
"It's special to me," Pierce remarked with a grin of his own.
The two hours allotted for the party passed quickly. Reluctantly, the children, enfolded in their Army issued blankets, clutching their toys tightly, were given final hugs and kisses from the men and women of the MASH unit and were lifted into the back of their waiting transport truck. As everyone was waving goodbye to them, a group of seven soldiers, shivering in the cold, came struggling into the medical compound.
"We had a dust up with some rather unfriendly chaps two hills over," the senior officer reported. He stumbled and would have fallen if the Chief Surgeon had not caught him.
"Anyone hurt?" Captain Pierce asked as he gave a cursory exam to the soldier.
"A few scratches, mate," the man replied. "M-m-mostly we just need to get somewhere warm."
"W-w-warmm," another one echoed as he struggled to pull his coat closer around his body.
"We've got umbles," the physician announced. Stumbling, mumbling and fumbling were indicators of changes in motor coordination and were the beginning signs of hypothermia; something they were seeing far too often these days. "Let's get them into pre-op."
Corporals Klinger and Goldman began the process of securing their weapons as the medical teams began removing their outer clothing and wrapping warmed blankets around the soldiers. Cups of heated broth were quickly distributed, as well.
"Hello, Texas," one of the men greeted the nurse who was busily unlacing the boots of another man. He clutched the hot beverage tightly in his hands.
"Howdy, Outback," she replied with a smile before returning to her duties. She removed the soldier's socks from his feet and examined his toes. "Good, no frost bite," she reported and placed a heated towel carefully around each foot before straightening. "It's about time you came back for a visit, Mitch."
"Too right," the Australian gave her a tired grin. "The bloke whose toes you are stroking is my CO. Captain Davidson, this is Lieutenant MacAllister."
"The Shelia with the steaks?" He asked in delight.
"Texas T-bone, that's me," the woman replied.
"I'm from a cattle station, in Queensland," the officer remarked. "And, I have to admit, that was some of the best beef I have ever eaten. Thank you."
"You're welcome. It's nice to know MacAllister beef is world renowned."
"And appreciated," another voice called to her.
The Texan looked towards that voice and smiled in welcome, "Howdy, Tom!"
Corporal Buchanan, the soldier she had treated when she first arrived in Korea, was laying on a table and was having his own feet and hands administered to. "Hello, lady," he grinned.
"Hi, Aussie" stopping briefly by his table, MacAllister greeted the man. "I hate that you're here, under these circumstances, but I am glad to see you!"
"Lady, you're sure a sight for sore eyes."
She laughed, "You Aussies and your eyesight."
"Comes from watching too many kangaroos hop about," Lieutenant Cochlan remarked. "That's Colonel Potter, sir," he pointed out the senior doctor, who was examining another patient, to his commanding officer.
"Right," Captain Davidson nodded. "I'll need to speak to him."
"Since you've been declared fit and able, and since I have a few minutes before I have to report for my shift," Lieutenant MacAllister grinned at the soldier standing beside her, "do you reckon you could come over to the ranch house for a few minutes? I've got something to give to you." All of the men had been treated and most were resting in the hospital ward, grateful for the chance to rest in a warm bed.
"I reckon," the soldier answered with his own version of a Texan accent. He retrieved his pistol and fastened the weapon belt around his waist before they left the hospital area, however.
"That's necessary? Even here, with guards posted everywhere?" MacAllister asked.
The two were walking, briskly in the cold wind, towards her tent.
"It's necessary," he answered bleakly. "Sarabeth, don't go any where alone," he ordered in concern. "Not even around the outskirts of this camp."
"Crockett's told me the same thing," she stated.
"The colonel's, right. We've been hearing some rather nasty stories out there."
Opening the door to her quarters, the two hurried inside. "Criminey," the man exclaimed. "It's colder in here than out there."
"Sorry, we still have to conserve heating fuel." MacAllister switched on a light and knelt beside her foot locker. She unlocked the trunk but could not remove the clasp. The metal pieces were too cold to pry apart.
"Stand aside." Two swift kicks from a soldier's boot had the locker opened in no time.
"Thanks," Counting out seven packages, and then selecting a final one, the woman stood. Setting the other presents aside, she handed two items to the man. "These are for you."
"Before I open these, I have something for you, as well." Reaching inside his jacket pocket, he gave her a small, battered and tattered foil wrapped gift.
Sarabeth opened the present and smiled at the tiny, wooden carving of a kangaroo.
"It's not much," the Australian admitted. "Buchanan carved it for me. I wanted to get you something better, but I haven't had any leave."
"It's wonderful!" MacAllister replied. "Thank y'all, so much!" She hugged the man happily. "Now, open yours. The smaller one, first," she directed.
Opening the package, Mitch Cochlan examined the bottle of dirt given to him. He looked at her with a puzzled expression. "It's genuine Texas soil," MacAllister explained with her famous grin. "Sprinkle some of this on your Aussie wastelands, and you'll instantly have the finest pasture grass, the biggest ears of corn or the brightest, prettiest bluebonnets you've ever seen," the Texan bragged.
Then, with a shy smile, she added, "It's also an open invitation for you to visit me, any time, back home, when this 'police action' is finally over." She looked up at the man who was smiling back at her.
"I'm going to accept that invitation," Cochlan declared. He playfully caught a tendril of her hair that had escaped from beneath her cap before pulling her closer to him. The man stopped abruptly, "That loud-mouthed Shelia isn't going to come in here, is she?"
"Nope. I set the latch on the door."
"Good." Gently at first, he was soon kissing her hungrily. Yielding to his demands, she didn't object as one of his hands caressed her body. His other hand moved to her hip and drew her in even closer. Unexpectedly, she put her own hand to his chest and softly pushed against him.
With a gentleman's restraint, Cochlan stopped nuzzling the corner of her neck and waited for an explanation.
"I reckon," she drew a shaky breath, "That anything else is going to have to wait until later…much later."
"Right," the man agreed reluctantly.
"Here, don't forget to open your other gift."
Inside the other package, was a pair of calfskin gloves with hand stitching and fleece lining. While admiring their promise of warmth, Cochlan returned the gift to the woman. "I can't accept these, Sarabeth. Not while my men are wearing worn out knit gloves."
"Who do you think these are for?" She gestured to the other paper enclosed gifts with a grin. "Since I didn't know sizes, I just had my Daddy send as many of the large ones that were available. Let's go see if they fit, Outback."
"Sure thing, Texas." Before she could unlock the door, however, he stopped her. Caressing her cheek, the man smiled at her, "Happy Christmas, Sarabeth."
"Merry Christmas, Mitch," she returned and smiled at him. "I'm so glad that you're here."
