FORTY FIVE


Jan. 4th: 0730 hours

At the conclusion of the Sunday worship service, Father Mulcahy looked over his gathered flock. It had been a good sermon, he thought. Of course, he was realistic enough to know that, with the winter season still holding South Korea firmly in its grip, and with the outfit still conserving heating fuel; the mess tent was one of the warmest spots in camp. Still, he was pleased with the turnout.

As the chapel was no longer needed, the tables had been moved back to their original places and breakfast was being served.

Since she was scheduled for ward duty in an hour, anyway, and since her ankle was aching from the cold, Lieutenant MacAllister had chosen to remain in the tent after the church meeting. She and Captain Hunnicutt were now having a friendly word play competition going between them. Charles Winchester, sitting next to the woman, couldn't decide which was worse: their puns or the food on his plate.

"What was the boy after playing with his puppy all day?" B J asked the red headed woman sitting across the wooden table from him, "Two words; one point."

The Texan grinned, "That's easy; dog tired. What did the little girl do after playing with her kitten all day?" She asked. "Four words; one point."

"Took a cat nap, obviously," Winchester commented. He looked down at his tray in resignation before sampling his meal. He grimaced and sighed.

Arching an eyebrow at him, Sarabeth MacAllister remarked, "Charles, if you aren't going to play the game with us; don't give away the punch lines. I'll give you that one, B J. I know you would have gotten it. Your turn," she said as she wrote down his score.

"Okay, what did the romantic serpent write at the end of his love letter to the cute snake? Blank-and-blank; three points."

"Whoever heard of a romantic serpent? Let me think. Romantic snake...hm-m-m," she pondered the possible answers. "Charles? Any suggestions?"

"I'm not playing the game, remember?" He informed her with a jaunty grin.

"Romantic snake..." Sarabeth laughed, "I've got it; love and hisses. Right?" At the man's nod, she added her points to the sheet. "That's a good one! Okay; here's yours…."

"I have a better one," Winchester interrupted, "When is this game going to be over?"

"Whenever the first person reaches 20 points or yields---whichever comes first," MacAllister replied. Unperturbed by his groan of protest, she continued, "B J, what's another name for an eye doctor who sees the future? One word, hyphenated; five points."

"Another name for an eye doctor..." Hunnicutt fidgeted with his mustache as he tried to think of the correct response.

Corporal Klinger walked into the mess tent, "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen of the medical field. Here's your mail fresh from the mine fields," he announced as he delivered the mail that belonged to each person. Abandoning their game, both of the punsters happily accepted the letters handed to them.

As he was given his own envelope, Major Winchester remarked, "Klinger, I thank you for distracting these two. They were driving me to distraction."

"Hopefully, it's the only place we'll be driving to for awhile, sir," the company clerk said as he continued his mail delivery to the other occupants of the tent.

Accepting his own parcel as he passed by the clerk, Hawkeye Pierce arrived at the table. "Howdy, Tex," he drawled. He and the priest sat beside them. "Reckon we'll jest mosey on over and set a spell with y'all."

The woman grinned, "Only if y'all will promise to leave the Lone Star accent to me."

"I quite agree," Winchester spoke with enthusiasm, "I much prefer the original."

The new arrivals looked at their trays in distaste. "My, we are certainly…blessed, today," was Mulcahy's comment as he tasted the powdered eggs on his plate, "Perhaps some ketchup would help."

"Can't hurt it any," Without even tasting his meal, Pierce was adding salt and the nearest condiments to his selection.

"Want some advice on that food y'all are fixing to eat?" Sarabeth asked. At their acknowledgment, she added, "Don't."

"I agree with your diagnosis." Hawkeye pushed his plate away. He watched her shudder as she made herself take a bite of her food before she continued reading one of her letters. "What are you doing?" He asked. "For every bite you eat, you reward yourself with a paragraph from your letter?"

"Something like that," she smiled in answer.


"Hey, I'm an aunt, again!" The woman happily announced after opening another envelope from home.

"Congratulations," Hawkeye responded. "I didn't even know you were an insect."

"An insect? She looks more like a cardinal to me," B J added.

"Or the Pope," Pierce countered.

"Sorry, boys. The Pope isn't redheaded," the priest informed them with a smile. "He's just golden-crowned."

"I shall be eternally grateful when Pun-day is finally over," Major Winchester shook his head at his companions.

Ignoring all their comments, Sarabeth gave them the information, "Rachel Michelle MacAllister: born on the 20th; eight pounds, ten ounces. I told Milam that this one was going to be a girl. He was sure it was going to be another boy. With three brothers, I reckon she's going to be spoiled."

"Like her aunt?" The man from Boston questioned. He looked at her facial expression before grinning and returned to his own mail.


Corporal Klinger entered the mess tent again. "Lieutenant, there's a call for you," he informed the woman. She quickly followed him out of the tent.


Standing near Colonel Potter's desk, MacAllister showed her commander the message. It simply said: "Rio Grande has gone hunting with Sabine. Letters and wills with Clay. Tell Lava and Brazos, heart always."

With a frown, the colonel looked at the woman who nodded bleakly in confirmation.

"They are both good soldiers. They know how to take care of themselves," Potter told her. Not very reassuring words, he knew; but he couldn't offer any additional comfort. She knew the risks in war as well as he did.

"I sure hope so, sir."


Standing outside his office, while pushing her hair under her cap, she whispered to herself, "Do some very careful hunting, brothers mine."


When Lieutenant MacAllister returned to the mess tent, Captains Pierce and Hunnicutt had revived the word contest.

"Sarabeth," Hawkeye called to her, "Help me out, here. Why do drama teachers make good football coaches? The clue is: because they blank-the-blank."

"I'll try not to fumble the question," the woman answered as she joined in the game.

Watching them, Major Winchester seemed to be the only one who noticed that, despite her responses, her smile never quite reached her eyes. He wondered what information she had received during that call.


Since both of them were expected to report for duty shortly, and since MacAllister needed to change back into her regular uniform, the surgeon escorted her to the tent she was once again sharing with four of the nurses.

On the way, noticing that both of them were favoring their left legs, MacAllister remarked, "It's a good thing we're not in a three-legged race, we haven't got two good legs to stand on."

"Luckily, we have not entered such a race," Charles Winchester commented. He added, quietly, "What's wrong, Sarabeth? What was said in that call that has upset you?"

"What make you think I'm upset?"

"It is quite easy to fool Pierce, since he is a fool. However, it is much more difficult to deceive me," the man replied. "Please tell me."

With a sigh, she spoke in a soft voice that could not be overheard, "Crockett told me that he and Fannin were leaving for a mission. And...he wasn't real sure they were going to make it back from this one," MacAllister's answer was subdued; her expression worried.

"Is there any possible way you could have misunderstood that message?"

She shook her head, "I wish there was. Crockett even told me where to find their wills. Oh, Charles...I can't even think about...," the woman didn't finish her sentence.

"My dear," the man spoke, "I can not guarantee that every thing will be all right. However, I can promise that I'll be here for you---no matter what happens---I'll be here."

"Thank you," she tried to smile at him and then looked away, sadly. Glancing at her watch, Sarabeth shook her head in annoyance, "I've got to get a move on. I'm relieving Parnelli and I'll never hear the end of it; if I'm late."

"Yes, Parnelli would relish the opportunity," Major Winchester told her. He was hoping that she would recall that particular phrase from their talk when she had first arrived at the 4077th.

Seeing the sudden sparkle in her eyes, he knew that she had, indeed, remembered that conversation. "So, can I talk about pickles and onions, now?" She asked with a grin.

"Indeed not," he told her with a smile.


Inside the post-op ward, the change of shift details had been discussed; new orders charted and carried out; and the patients were all resting comfortably.

Near one hospital bed, the priest was speaking to a young man who had requested a confessional session. When he was finished talking to the soldier, Lieutenant MacAllister came up to him, "Father Mulcahy, do you take requests from Baptists?"

"Baptist, Methodist, Orthodox Jew. I can even perform most Buddhist ceremonies, if need be." The cleric smiled at her with gentle concern, "What's the problem, my child?"

"Well, I know a couple of tall Texans who need all the prayers they can get, right now," Sarabeth stated shakily, "And, I'd appreciate some extra ones being sent their way."

"They have mine," Mulcahy replied, "And, I'll say a special prayer for them, tonight, as well."

"Wounded! We've got wounded! Ambulances in the compound; choppers on the way," The PA announcement made all the medical personnel grimace. Another long session of trying to save lives awaited them.

"God help us all," Father Mulcahy uttered as he hurried outside to help with the new arrivals. Needed in triage, Major Winchester and Lieutenant MacAllister followed as soon as Sherry Riggs, the nurse assigned to cover the ward, hurried into the building.


Leaving his surgical nurse to finish the muscle and skin repairs on another soldier, Colonel Potter moved to assist at B J Hunnicutt's table. Sarabeth MacAllister paused in her suturing. Standing with his back to her, noticing her uneasiness, Doctor Pierce turned and asked what was wrong.

The woman shrugged, "The patient's all right, sir. It's just that...Crockett's angry again. And, he's very determined to do something. I wish I knew what was going on." She had a distant, concerned expression on her face before straightening her shoulders and focusing her attention on the man lying on the operating table.


Jan 5th: 0300 hours

"How many more are out there?" Hawkeye Pierce asked. He was resting on top of his table while his surgical nurse, Margaret Houlihan, and his anesthetist, Jeanette Thompson, relaxed for a few minutes.

"Two more, sir," Stafford, the corpsman, answered wearily, "Maybe there won't be another wave."

"I hope so. I'm getting very tired of waving," Doctor Hunnicutt commented as he removed another metal fragment from a soldier's leg. "Hey, Hawk. Did I ever tell you my rabbit joke?"

"I don't think so, Beej. Let's hare it."

"I hope it's bunny, Hunnicutt," Colonel Potter contributed from his table, "Some of your tales are fur-fetched."

Sarabeth, standing beside him, commented, "I just love the way y'all carrot on."

"And now," Hawkeye added, "straight from the twisted bowels of Korea... it's the Bob Hop Show."

"And only an eternity more to go in here," noted Major Winchester. "How's his pressure?" He asked his anesthetist.

"Holding steady, sir. 95 over..."

An anguished yelp of pain shocked the OR personnel into silence.

Dropping the instrument she was holding, Lieutenant MacAllister clutched her right shoulder and staggered.

"Sarabeth!" Winchester shouted in alarm. He started towards her and then stopped himself. As much as he wanted to, he could not leave his patient. "Pierce! Mulcahy! Someone! Help her!"

Sobbing in agony, opening her hand, expecting to see blood, the woman examined her fingertips and then stared at the people around her in bewilderment. Suddenly realizing what had happened, she gave a moan of fear.

"Oh, God!" She cried, "Crockett! Crockett's been shot!"


Part Two---Complete