As he had scheduled since reading the news he had received from home, by 1:30 in the middle of the night, Charles casually sauntered into the outer office of the main hospital, where he stepped over to the boy who was fast asleep in his bunk.
"Ah, Corporal?" Charles spoke up, though Radar remained asleep. "Corporal?"
Radar still remained asleep, his only movement being a slight shift in his current sleeping position. Running out of time (and patience), Charles reached down, and aggressively tapped Radar on the shoulder, to which his eyes promptly shot open. The Corporal looked up to see who had woken him up, but without his glasses, and still not quite familiar with a relative new-comer like Charles around camp, the tall, balding surgeon in the striped bathrobe was nothing more than an indistinguishable blur to him.
"Who's there?" Radar asked in un-easiness.
Charles scowled at the lower-class company clerk, "Major Winchester, you…"
"Oh, sorry Major," Radar meekly apologized, "but, without my glasses, I can't see very well when I don't have my glasses on to see…"
"Well, perhaps you should put your spectacles on your face, so you can see what you are doing," suggested Charles in a rather condescending manner.
"Oh, I can still see my dreams pretty well even without my glasses," insisted Radar, as he attempted to go back to sleep, though Charles loudly cleared his throat to give him an audio indication that he has pressing business that needs to be taken care – something Radar was dreading. "Oh… sir, please?"
"O'Reilly, THIS is important," insisted Charles. "I need you to place through a call to Boston!"
"Now, sir?" Radar groaned.
"Of course, and you had better hurry, before it will be too late!" Charles commanded.
Seeing that he was unable to get himself out of another such request, Radar, once again, arose from his cot with a reluctant moan, as he grabbed his glasses.
While doing so, the Major took notice of the little stuffed companion that was also occupying the bunk with its owner, "Corporal… how old are you?"
"Uh, I'll be nineteen next week," explained Radar with a nervous chuckle.
"And you still sleep with a teddy bear?" Charles asked.
"Well… only when I'm in bed…" Radar continued to explain.
Charles had it with Radar's stalling, "Up, Corporal! Up!"
Radar winced, as he made his way back over to the communications center for another midnight call.
The Major then gave the company clerk further instructions, "I want you to get me Pericles Diapers."
"Uh, sir?" Radar spoke up, as he placed the headset over his head. "Excuse me, but, uh, there's some rubber sheets in the supply tent that you might find might be of some use for you, sir."
Charles was not at all amused, "Not for me, you 'non-com-poop'! This is strictly business; I must move all of my stock shares to Pericles Diapers before 12:00 noon, November 10, local time in Boston!
"Right…" Radar mumbled, as he grabbed his microphone, and turned the crank to ring headquarters in Seoul, waiting for the operator to answer. "Sparky? Sparky? Are you there, Sparky? Yeah, it's me again, Sparky…" Radar was on the receiving end of yet another verbal tirade, as he tried to calm the operator down, "I know, Sparky, I know… but uh… listen, our new surgeon, Major Winchester, wants to get through to Dericles Pipers in Boston so he can wash his socks…"
"No!" Charles snapped at the Corporal's gaffe, "I want to move my STOCKS to PERICLES DIAPERS!"
Radar covered the microphone to prevent Sparky from hearing their side conversation, "Uh, sir? At this hour, Sparky's gonna want somethin' really good in return… Uh… would you mind parting with some of your vintage wine?"
Charles found the request to be absolutely absurd, "Absolutely not! You may offer him anything BUT!"
Radar resumed his phone-call, " Hey, Sparky? How would you like a real neat phonograph with lots of 'Beet-hoo-von' records?"
"DON'T YOU DARE!" Charles nearly screamed, as he grabbed the headset and microphone away from Radar to handle the matter in his own Winchester way.
Radar, on the other hand, was quite uneasy about this, "Oh! Don't make 'im mad!" He pleaded.
"Who is this?" Charles asked into the microphone, while holding the earpiece into his ear to communicate with the voice on the other end. "Yes, Sergeant Pryor? Now, please, listen to me VERY carefully… I am Major Charles Emerson Winchester, and I have a VERY important business call to make to a company called Pericles Diapers, in Boston, Massachusetts. If you would be so kind as to get on it right away."
Unable to hear the rest of the conversation on his end, Radar could tell that by Charles's reaction that Sparky had resumed trying to barter with the Major over an exchange of goods for his services.
"What? No, you may NOT have my phonograph!" Charles snapped. Realizing that his wealth would soon benefit from something of a bonus, he decided he could offer the Sergeant in Seoul monetary compensation, "Oh… since I'll be doing much better for myself soon enough… how does… say, $200 sound?"
It must have sounded good enough for Sparky, as Radar watched Charles smile, "Wonderful…" The Major turned to the Corporal, "You have to know how to negotiate, Corporal."
"I do, sir…" mumbled Radar.
After a fifteen minute business discussion, Charles was thoroughly satisfied with the outcome of his latest business dealing, as he happily rested the headset and microphone atop Radar's desk, all the while the Corporal had fallen asleep slumped over his incoming/outgoing mail trays. Charles arose from the desk chair, and brushed past the slumbering clerk, "Thank you very much, Corporal."
Radar opened his eyes, and saw the Major leaving his office, "Hmm? Oh… yeah. Sure, sir."
"You and your… friend… may go back to bed now, as I will, myself," Charles spoke of the boy and his bear, as he stepped through one of the rickety double-doors leading into the building.
Radar released a sound from his mouth that could be described as a combination of a yawn and a sigh, as he shuffled back over to his cot, "Boy! I'm gettin' sick of this… if someone wakes me up one more time to make a phone call… I'll… I'll… do… somethin'!" The young Corporal situated himself back into his bunk, pulling the covers over his head in frustration.
As if Corporal O'Reilly was not the only one in camp who was having troubles, Margaret's most recent letter from Donald she had received in yesterday's mail call was not doing her much good either. Ending their honeymoon in Tokyo earlier than either of them anticipated was probably one of the poorest choices she had ever made, and she felt the need to pour her heart out to him, but she knew that to respond to his letter by simply writing him back would do rather little to help - not to mention it would take too long… she would need to call him instead. However, she had trouble mustering herself up to place a call to him.
All day long, when she was not assisting one of the surgeons in O.R., or serving post-op duty, Margaret would try to make her way to Radar's office, but something would come into her mind that would make her reconsider doing that, such as someone else walking in and wanting to use the phone as well, or someone like Hawkeye and/or B.J. eavesdropping on her personal conversation on the other phone receiver in Potter's inner office. As the night wore on, Margaret feverishly tossed and turned in loneliness in her own bunk, longing so much for the company of her newly wedded husband, and fighting the sexual urges that were coming to her in her sleep… she could not take it anymore, she had to talk to him, and right away. Margaret grabbed her pink bathrobe, dashed out of her tent, across the compound, and into Radar's office, where the company clerk was sleeping in his own bunk, but this time with his wool cap on… and, it would soon become apparent why.
Margaret stepped into the office, making her way over to Radar's bunk, where she knelt beside him, "O'Reilly?"
Radar did not respond to the voice calling his name. He simply pulled the flaps of his cap down over his ears, acting as if he was ignoring whomever it was who was trying to wake him.
"Corporal O'Reilly!" Margaret called out a little louder.
Still, Radar did not respond; this time, he pulled the rest of his cap over the top of his head, covering not only his little ears, but his eyes as well.
"Come on Radar, please get up!" Margaret pleaded.
Once again, Radar did not respond; this time, he pulled the covers over his head, and held onto them tightly.
Margaret arose to her feet, and shrieked at the slumbering Corporal, "UP! O'REILLY, AND THAT'S AN ORDER!"
"I'm sleepin'!" Radar mumbled from under the covers. Too many times he had been woken up in the middle of the night for someone else's personal matters, and he was not about lose any more sleep over another's plight.
"And you are ALSO going on report if you don't get out of bed, and get on the phone to my husband, a certain Lieutenant Colonel Donald Penobscot, in the next ten seconds!" Margaret threatened, as she began timing the company clerk, "One! Two!"
If there is one person in the entire camp who effectively strikes fear into Radar's soul, it would be Major Margaret Houlihan - especially when she gets herself worked up over even the smallest and insignificant of things. With less time than it takes to tell the tale, Radar shot out from under the covers, pulled his hat off, and grabbed his glasses.
"I'm sorry, sir," apologized Radar, before immediately correcting the error he had made in addressing a superior officer of a different sex, "MA'AM!"
The frightened boy dashed over to the communications center, while Margaret was on his tail the entire time, "Please, make it quick, Corporal!" She ordered, "I MUST talk to Colonel Penobscot!"
"Right, I'm on it," insisted Radar, as he followed with the routine of placing the headset over his ear, grabbing the microphone, and cranking the phone line to ring Seoul, "Sparky? I'm sorry Sparky, but I need to get, uh… Lieutenant Donald Colonel Penobscot!"
"He's stationed in Tokyo!" Margaret stated.
"Yeah, he's stationed in Tokyo!" Radar relayed to Sparky.
"And I MUST talk to him, immediately!" Margaret stated.
"Right, I MUST talk to him, immediate!" Radar relayed to Sparky, before correcting another one of his verbal blunders. "I mean, Major Houlihan - SHE wants to talk to him… what? Okay…" Radar turned to the worked-up nurse to apprise her of Sparky's actions, "He's patching us through to Tokyo, Major…"
"Give me!" Margaret barked, as Radar jumped out of his chair, relinquishing the headset and microphone to Margaret, as she took a seat at the controls, and was put through to an operator working a switchboard somewhere in Tokyo. "Hello?! Yes, I'm calling Lieutenant Colonel Donald Penobscot, please tell him its Major Margaret Houlihan!"
Whoever this voice was the operator was hearing placing the call must have assumed it was somebody else calling for Colonel Penobscot, based on a witness account.
"WHAT girl he was with last night? I'm his WIFE, I'm with the 4077th MASH in Uijongbu, and I wasn't with him last night!"
Sensing that the operator on the other end was uncomfortable with the conversation, it was clear that they decided it was best to just go ahead and put the Colonel oh the line instead.
"Yes, you best put him on!"
After a moment or two of waiting, Margaret's husband was finally put on the line.
"Donald? Donald, it's Margaret! Oh, sweetheart, I've missed you so much! I know it's only been a few days, but it feels so much longer than that…"
And just like that, Margaret's cordial disposition turned on a dime as she suddenly grew far more aggressive in her conversation.
"Donald… WHAT was that I heard about you with some girl last night?"
The angry look on Margaret's face gradually relaxed as she listened to Penobscot's explanation.
"A nurse whose surgeon's jeep broke down on the way to an aid station, and you were offering to escort them there yourself?"
And just like that, Margaret was back to being an absolute sweetheart, as she gushed over her husband's generous gesture.
"Oh, Donald! You're SO considerate!"
Radar yawned, and rolled his eyes, as Margaret continued to babble on to her husband about how she wishes she could spend some more time with him - so much so, that she told him that she would ask Potter if he would let her visit him in Tokyo. After she was finished with her phone conversation with Donald, and left the office to return to her own tent, Radar had finally made a decision of his own to remedy his quandary – once and for all.
Early the following afternoon, Radar was sitting next to Colonel Potter's desk in the commanding officer's office, as they were going over a list of supplies they would need to be prepared for another upcoming frigid winter season; Radar was taking down notes for the Colonel, as he dictated them to his company clerk.
"Read back to me what we've got so far, Radar," requested the Colonel.
"Yes, sir," replied Radar, before he proceeded to comply with the Colonel's request.
To I-Corps. Seoul.
Request shipment of supplies to MASH 4077
Blankets
Coats, jackets, and/or parkas
Gloves and/or mittens
Ear muffs or those nice wooly caps with the ear muff things
Long underwear
Heavy-duty winter boots – including an extra pair in a size 10 ½ C
That was Radar trailed off in going over the list, as Potter suddenly thought of another item to add to the list, "And, don't forget we're about to run out of light bulbs."
"Right, sir," Radar wrote down said addition to the list, "'And we're running out of light bulbs'…"
While Radar finished writing everything down, Potter pulled out a cigar from one of his desk drawers, and began to light up a smoke for himself when his eyes caught a few sparse flakes of winter precipitation fluttering down outside his office window. "We skipped our, 'Early fall,' and went straight to an early winter; look at that."
Radar craned his head upward to see the sight his commanding officer had pointed out, "Oh yeah, it's snowing! Wonder why the Army ordered that?"
"God only knows, Radar," muttered Potter out of the corner of his mouth.
As Radar continued looking out the window, a thought suddenly struck his mind, "Uh… Colonel?"
"Having spelling problems again, son?" Potter asked.
"Oh, no, sir," said Radar. "I was just wondering… can I go outside and play in the snow?"
Potter looked out his office window more carefully; given the lack of accumulation laying on the ground, the Colonel found it to be an unusual request, "It's just a light dusting Radar, there's not enough to play in."
"Oh, that's okay, sir. Uh… I can build a 'dustman'!" Radar insisted.
"It's not even sticking to the ground; the ground isn't cold enough." Potter pointed out.
"Well… I like to catch snowflakes on my tongue, see?" Radar gave Potter a demonstration by sticking his tongue out, acting like it was snowing in the office, bobbing to and fro, trying to catch the invisible snowflakes, as Potter sat watching his clerk's somewhat silly antic, revealing a half-smile.
"Alright, alright, son; you're dismissed," chuckled Potter. "But, make sure you send out that requisition as soon as you can."
"Oh, yes, sir… I'll put it in my outgoing box on the way out," said Radar, just as he stepped out of the Colonel's inner office, and into his own outer office. As per his order, the company clerk slipped the requisition into his outgoing mail tray, before stepping out into the compound; as much as the young Corporal really did want to stop and try to catch snowflakes on his tongue, he actually had another personal matter that he needed to tend to, which is why he was rather anxious to leave Potter's office in the first place.
Meanwhile, in the Swamp, the occupants of the messy tent were also noticing the small and delicate white flakes falling from the sky.
"Hey Beej, check it out," Hawkeye pointed out through the mosquito netting, "Korea's suddenly got a scalp condition."
"Comes from using too much shampoo," quipped B.J.
"As if we couldn't find any real poo," quipped Hawkeye in return.
As the two buddies had a chuckle over their banter, Charles was quickly growing increasingly annoyed with his tent mates' childish senses of humor, "Why, WHY must EVERYTHING be such a big joke with you two?"
"Not EVERYTHING is such a big joke with us, Charles…" insisted Hawkeye.
"Only certain big things…" explained B.J. "Klinger's nose…"
"B.J.'s feet…" added Hawkeye.
"Hawkeye's madness…" added B.J.
"Your ego…" said Hawkeye in regards to Charles.
Charles was less than amused, "Very… 'Cute'… gentlemen. But, do you two Vaudevillians honestly believe that behaving in such an insane manner in this God-forsaken hellhole will preserve your sanity?
"Like my virginity, I lost my sanity twenty years ago, and I haven't seen it since," quipped Hawkeye.
"I lost a lot of things when I got here, and my sanity was only one of them," added B.J.
"I remember you came in with sanity," marveled Hawkeye. "Didn't take long to break you in on a domestic model."
"Easy to do in a nuthouse like this," said B.J.
"Speaking of which, have you heard about Klinger's latest scheme?" Hawkeye asked.
"Does it involve nuts?" B.J. asked.
"Close, he said he's sent home for a camel," said Hawkeye.
"Well, when we're short on litter jeeps, and the Colonel's horse isn't up to it, we can transport wounded on each hump," suggested B.J.
Hawkeye laughed over the idea of transporting wounded atop camel humps; Charles was fed up with the two's almost non-stop bantering, "Have you QUITE two finished?" He asked curtly.
Hawkeye turned to his Bunkie for a confirmation, "Um… Beej?"
B.J. merely shrugged in response, "Hmm… yes."
"Thank you," growled Charles.
Later that evening, Colonel Potter was strolling through post-op, to observe how things were going with the patients who were recuperating in the ward; moments ago, Margaret had informed him of a problemed patient that Hawkeye was dealing with, whom the Colonel eventually found checking in on said patient's chart in his cot at the other end of the ward. "How's it goin'?" He asked, approaching Hawkeye.
Hawkeye sighed as he handed the clipboard to his commanding officer, "He's not responding… he's unconscious, his pressure is dropping…"
In addition to what Hawkeye had informed him of, Potter noticed other details on the patient's chart that were cause for concern, "His temperature's below 90 degrees… hypothermia?"
"That was one of my suspicions," said Hawkeye. "Hell of a good time to run short on supplies…"
"No blankets? Hot water bottles?" Potter asked.
Hawkeye shook his head, "I'd like to ship him to the 121st, but I'm afraid we might lose him on the trip over there. What do you think we should do?"
"You're chief surgeon, you tell me," was Potter's response.
Hawkeye smirked, "Thanks that really helps, Colonel…"
"I'll try to get I-Corps on the horn, and see if they got our requisition yet," Potter informed Hawkeye. "Meanwhile, maybe we can isolate him in a tent with a few heaters in there."
Hawkeye nodded, as he replaced the patient's chart back onto the hook dangling from the wooden framing at the foot of the cot, "That's not a bad idea…"
"Get a medic to help you," ordered Potter. "I'll move out of my place for the night, we can keep him in there."
"I'll get B.J. to clear out the spare bunk in the Swamp, you can sleep there tonight," offered Hawkeye.
"Good boy. I'm gettin' on the horn," Potter stepped out of the ward, and into the outer office to address his company clerk. "Radar, I need you to get on the horn the I-Corps…"
Potter hung a right, and stepped into his own office, but then stuck his head back out the door when he realized he received no response from the company clerk, "Radar?"
Radar was nowhere to be found in his office… and to further add to the confusion, Potter saw that his entire cot was nowhere to be found either. The Colonel stepped back into post-op, just catching Hawkeye and Goldman as they were easily transporting the freezing patient out of the ward.
"Pierce, have you seen Radar?" Potter asked.
"No, not lately," said Hawkeye, while pulling one end of the gurney bearing the freezing patient through the double doors leading out into the compound, while Goldman pushed the other end.
"It's really strange," muttered Potter. "He's not in his office, and his cot is missin' too."
"Maybe the sandman had a debt to pay off, and took them as collateral?" Hawkeye humorously surmised.
"Pierce? I'm not in the mood," groaned Potter.
"Well, I don't know what to tell you Colonel…" continued Hawkeye, with a shrug. "I know there's been some in camp who have been looking to sacrifice a virgin…"
"Pierce," bemoaned Potter.
"Maybe he went to the officers club for a touch of the grape?" Hawkeye suggested, a little more seriously this time.
"Nope. Just came from the O. club, he wasn't there," said Potter. "Rather strange… I better page him, he's gotta be around here somewhere."
The skies began growing darker outside, and the air began turning colder; a P.A. announcement crackled through-out the camp:
ATTENTION, ATTENTION… WOULD CORPORAL RADAR O'REILLY PLEASE REPORT TO COLONEL POTTER? CORPORAL O'REILLY REPORT TO COLONEL POTTER, ON THE DOUBLE.
If Radar was in camp, he would have heard the announcement… but the fact of the matter was that Radar was NOT in camp; as a matter of fact, Radar was quite a ways across the road from camp, behind Rosie's Bar. The Corporal had set up his cot behind the tiny little saloon, after having grabbed as many blankets as he could get his hands on from the supply tent, knowing that brutally cold conditions were set to fall over the area that night. Finally, a good night's sleep… at least, that was what he thought as he drifted away into a deep slumber. Some time later, a hungry little stray dog had ambled by, sniffing out something to eat; the canine saw Radar snoozing in his bunk, and immediately scampered over to the young Corporal, where he began licking his face. This was a very familiar feeling to Radar, as he chuckled, and began turning his face away.
"Cut it out, Ranger…" Radar lightly smacked away what he believed to be his beloved stateside dog, as he rolled over on his back, and start snoring loudly. The dog sniffed around under Radar's blankets in search for a quick meal, grabbing his teddy bear in its teeth, deciding it was a tasty new treat. After licking the teddy bear for a moment, the dog decided it was nowhere near as tasty as it had initially thought, and with nothing else to do, grabbed the teddy bear in its teeth once more, and began wandering off closer toward camp.
Meanwhile, Hawkeye and a nurse finished slipping the freezing patient into the bunk inside Colonel Potter's tent; with stove heaters burning in the three other corners of the tent, in addition to two blankets (one already on Potter's bunk, and the other from the patient's post-op cot) draped over the bed, Hawkeye hoped this would warm his patient enough until the new supplies would be delivered to camp.
"Keep an eye on him, and call me if you notice any significant changes in his temperature," Hawkeye instructed to his nurse.
"Yes, doctor," said the nurse.
Hawkeye slipped on his overcoat, and stepped out into the freezing night, just as B.J. and Potter approached to enlist him in their impromptu search party for the missing Corporal O'Reilly.
"Pierce, I want you and Hunnicutt to start searching this half of the camp; I've got Klinger and Father Mulcahy searching the other half," instructed Potter. "Radar's gotta be around here somewhere."
"Boy, if we have to go searching for that leprechaun, there better be a pot of gold in it for me," quipped Hawkeye.
"I call dibs on some myself," added B.J.
"Move it out, boys!" Potter commanded.
With nothing more to say, Hawkeye and B.J. did as ordered, and set out to cover the northern half of the camp to look for Radar, while Potter made his way back to the hospital to enlist other orderlies to assist in the search, but as he did, he happened to glance towards the middle of the compound, where he saw the same stray dog that was carrying Radar's teddy bear in its mouth had scurried over to the signpost that stood outside the Swamp, dropping the bear to the ground, and proceeding to dig a small hole.
The Colonel called out to his two Captains, "PIERCE! HUNNICUTT!"
Hawkeye and B.J. dashed over to the Colonel, "You called, mon Co-lo-nel?" Hawkeye asked in a fake French accent.
"Take a look at this…" Potter pointed out the dog that had just finished digging its hole, into which it dropped Radar's teddy bear, and proceeded to kick dirt on it to bury.
"Shall we break out the shovels and dig him up?" B.J. asked.
"Not for a job like this," said Hawkeye. "Just grab him by the top of his head, and pull him out, like a carrot."
"Not so fast there, boys," said Potter in a serious tone. "That dog didn't bury Radar, but it obviously knows where he is."
"Maybe our four legged friends got tired of his brethren being eaten by the locals, and decided to give one of our own a taste of the same medicine?" Hawkeye surmised humorously.
"Pierce…" Potter chastised the Captain, before ordering the two of them to follow his lead. "Come on… let's just ease over, and…"
The three proceeded to ease their way over to the dog, but once the dog realized what was going on, it barked, turned tail, and scurried away.
"After 'im!" Potter yelled.
The dog ran down the compound, while Hawkeye, B.J., and Potter gave chase.
"Oh to be in the dog house now that spring is here," quipped Hawkeye as he picked up the pace.
The chase pressed on, but the dog suddenly made a wide U-turn, and continued running in the opposite direction, while the three remained on its tail the entire time.
"Keep your peepers peeled for Radar, we might find him along the way!" Potter told the two running alongside him, as they continued with their chase.
It turned out that Potter was right. After spending the brief moment of chasing the dog out of the compound, following it out of the camp, and across the road, the three ran behind Rosie's Bar, where an unusual sight caught them off guard.
"Hey, wait a minute!" B.J. exclaimed.
The three officers suddenly stopped short in their tracks, and turned their attention to the army cot buried underneath a pile of blankets that was clearly out of place in an empty spot outside the back of Rosie's Bar. Potter stepped over, and pulled the blankets back, to find a shivering, yet sleeping Corporal was bundled underneath them.
"Radar!" The three exclaimed.
Early the next morning, a drowsy Radar awoke to find himself in an entirely different cot within the warm confines of the post-op ward, and feeling nearly lifeless from the cold he had caught during the night. When the nurse on duty noticed Radar was awake, she alerted Hawkeye, who had just returned his improved hypothermia patient to the cot he was originally recuperating in further down the ward.
"Welcome home, Radar," Hawkeye greeted the ill Corporal with a warm smile, as he approached his bedside.
Hearing the voices inside the post-op ward, Potter stepped in from the outer office to see Radar for himself, "You gave us a hell of a scare, son."
Radar groaned, as he apologized to his commanding officer with an obvious listlessness in his voice, "Sorry about that, sir…"
Potter sat on the edge of a small chest that was sitting next to the cot Radar was laying in, "What in the world were you doin' out there in the middle of the night freezing to death?"
Radar groaned once more, and began explaining his plan, "Oh, Colonel… I was just so sick and tired of everybody waking me up from a good night's sleep in the middle of the night and have me make phone calls for them while I sleep.
"Nobody wakes you up for a phone call unless it's an emergency, Radar," Potter tried assuring his clerk.
"That's what they all say Colonel, but half the time, their emergencies aren't really all that, 'Emergent'…" Radar further explained.
"I see," nodded Potter.
"I just wanted a good night's sleep was all Colonel," continued Radar. "I figured if I moved my bed somewhere's else, I wouldn't have to worry about anybody finding me to make phone calls for them… and out behind Rosie's Bar seemed like the best place for me to hide from everyone else."
"I get the picture, son," said Potter, as he reached over, and gave Radar a pet on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll make sure this won't happen again. No more phone calls unless they're a COMPLETE and ABSOLUTE emergency, and you won't have to sleep out there and catch yourself a death of cold."
"Yeah… I really appreciate that, Colonel, sir," said Radar with a small smile springing to his face before a sneeze escaped his nose.
"In the meantime, I un-earthed a little buried treasure for you…" Hawkeye handed Radar his now-dirtied teddy bear.
Radar took his teddy bear, surprised to see it covered in dirt and filth, "Gee, what happened to him?"