They drove into the quiet courtyard. The grass was brown and the sky was gloomy. There were several people nearby, feeding chickens, pulling vegetables, and doing housework. They both opened their doors and stepped out of the vehicle. Hawkeye took a quick look around. There was a somewhat large home, the walls were cracked and covered with cloth. There were also a few large holes in the building caused by shelling that came too close. "This is it? This is the estate?" Hawkeye looked over the the woman, now beginning to see that cars and nice dresses don't always mean a life of luxury and wealth. "Yes, as you can see, many artillery shells fall nearby." The two walked slowly up to the front door, the woman leading Hawkeye inside the home. There in front of them was a bed that held a weak, elderly woman. They walked over to the bedside while she spoke in Korean to the woman, who Hawkeye guessed to be her mother. "She wants me to change into my everyday clothes, I will be back." She smiled and walked off into another room, leaving Hawkeye and the elder alone. He slowly sat down in a chair next to the bed. "Okay, let's see what we got here..." the woman turned her head to Hawkeye and whined something in Korean that he couldn't understand. "Look, don't worry, I'm a doctor." Hawkeye held up his stethoscope to the woman, trying to prove his statement.
After examining the older woman, Hawkeye arose from his seat, grabbed his bag, and walked over the the other side of the room. He looked through a large hole in the wall and saw the younger woman harvesting vegetables. He stepped through the hole and approached her. "I think your mother has pneumonia." She stood up with a worried expression, holding the greens in her hands. "I gave her some medication, but there's really not much to do but let nature take its course." Hawkeye felt some sadness for the young woman, and what he said next not only surprised her, but himself as well. "I'll come back tomorrow to help out with whatever I can..." She smiled at him and replied, "Thank you, Doctor." She then knelt down to a young child at her side, handing her the vegetables.
"Is that your daughter?" The woman began to walk away, with Hawkeye following her. "No, she and her mother lost their home in an air-raid. Her father died a year ago in the war. We had some room so I asked them to stay with us." Hawkeye continued to follow her. "What about the others here, the same?" The woman continued her conversation as she held up her work. "Yes, the same. Eight people stay with us."
"How do you manage?"
"Not so bad." She replied, reaching out for a dish of chicken feed. "We have some chickens for eggs, vegetables in our garden, and there's a well about a mile away where we collect water."
"You haul water from a mile away?" Hawkeye asked with concern and surprise. "How can you do that?"
"It's just were the water is" She spoke to him with a soft smile as she continued to walk around the yard.
"I guess I owe you an apology."
He sat down and she looked over to him. "For what?"
Hawkeye sighed. "Can I help you with anything? Some clothing, food, medicine? I want to make up for some of the wonderful things I said before." She smiled and put down a stone she was holding. "Do you speak any French?" Hawkeye shrugged. "Just un petit peu. Why, do you need something translated?"
A warm smile stretched across her face. "No, I just wanted to hear it again. I studied in Paris when I was young." Then, her face became quite morose. "There was a very intelligent man from our village, a doctor. He used to come to the house. We would talk in French about art..."
"He's gone now?"
"All the men in village are gone, exept the very old, and very young." She sighed and looked down. "These people are very dear to me, but none of them know Rochefoucauld."
"Isn't he the one who said evil to him who evil thinks?" She smiled and shook her head. "No..."
"Well, then I guess I don't know him."
Hawkeye plastered his face with a warm smile. "You know you have a fantastic attitude? If you can go through all of this and still smile, it's wonderful... I guess nothing is all that bad unless you think it is..." She looked up and smiled. "You do know Rochefoucauld!"
"I do?"
She chuckled. "Yes! That is from one of his poems! One is only as happy or unhappy as one imagines." Hawkeye laughed. "Well, um... je suis un poulet... um poetry." Then the young woman began to laugh at his statement. "What?..." Hawkeye gave her a confused look.
"What did you mean to say?" She asked, still laughing and smiling brightly.
"I meant to say that I'm pulled toward poetry..." Hawkeye grinned as she continued to laugh. "What'd I say?"
"You said, I am a chicken" She said, her statement broken up with laughter, and Hawkeye joining in.