After showing Daddy how we functioned in the office and with Radar always knowing what was going on, we all (minus Radar again) went to Post-Op, where our wounded were. Most of the beds were filled with our men mostly (in addition, two of them were North Korean prisoners ready to be shipped out soon and another was a civilian from the next village over). All on shift (Major Simmons in charge) were busy to make them as comfortable as possible before they went to an evac hospital, to Tokyo or back into combat or, in the case of the prisoners and villager, back home or to a prisoner-of-war camp.
"Who is in charge of this shift?" Daddy asked as Dean excused himself, Radar coming in and whispering to him that he had a phone call from his second-in-command from the unit and that was it urgent.
"Major Simmons, one of our more brilliant surgeons," Margaret gushed out in what appeared to be admiration, pointing him to the desk at the far corner, where our lovely Major Simmons was writing out reports and taking paperwork from the nurses patiently (and kindly) enough.
"Who also happens to be in charge of most of the shifts, more so than most others here," Henry added, grumbling to himself quietly about how he and Frank always volunteered for duty…or a firing squad, if there was one. We've all joked around about that when Simmons wasn't bunking in the Swamp (again) and complaining about the smell and the mess.
"Much more so than Frank Burns, Chief of Malpractice," Hawkeye muttered.
"What was that, Pierce? Are you insulting me and Major Burns again?" The voice in the corner desk spoke and it wasn't too kind either.
Simmons had heard of our approach behind him and stopped what he was doing as his snide comment stung. He then looked up from his work and shooed away some of the nurses in a manner I would call ruder. A minute later, seeing my father, he stood up and saluted, obviously frightened and wanting be anywhere but where he was. It was evident by the way his face went white with fright, his body shaking from seeing Colonel "Heartless" Morrison. It seemed like Simmons knew Daddy from somewhere and that somewhere was not something good.
"It's a p-pleasure to see you here, Colonel Morrison," Simmons added as a second thought, practically stuttering through the sentence and trying to be as confident as possible.
Daddy saluted back, grinning almost evilly, as if he had some scheme in his demented mind. "It's nice to see you again, Simmons. Hopefully, it'll be in the stockade, Leavenworth or dead next time. What are you doing here in Korea?"
"I'm serving in the US Army faithfully, as I've always done." Simmons looked more nervous by the minute, worse than Henry was moments before.
"Oh, good, a reunion," Trapper interjected. "How many more will we have today?"
"All we need are our old high school classmates," Hawkeye added with a smile. "Did you get the money for the second prom, Trap?"
"Oh, can it, you two!" Henry also looked more jumpy as moments passed and addressed the issue the only way he could. That is, by ignoring it and going onto the next one. "Colonel Morrison, I'm sure that you can see we run an effective hospital –"
"Henry, put this man on report!" Daddy looked angry all a sudden, watching Simmons squirm more than he already was doing. As Hawkeye and Trapper exchanged looks and Margaret looked to Frank to do something (she was so confused), Daddy added, "This man is a rapist and will do anything for promotion in order to escape his last position, which was what he had been going for years to give the US government the slip. He's gained his degree as a 'doctor', if you must call him that, by cheating and imitating others in the art. He is a real master, if you must call him that. His real name is Jacob Zimmerman, a rabbi's nephew, ostracized by his own family because of his crimes."
By looking at Simmons' reaction to everything, I knew that Daddy was telling the truth (in an angry way, for sure, but he was always able to get the truth out of somebody) and was trying to uncover a fraud. However, it also shocked everybody and explained all of their reactions. Even those on duty were whispering behind their hands, calming down wounded patients as best as they could, but the outburst and accusation of rape and other crimes were too horrendous to ignore. Something had to be done and everybody seemed too transfixed upon this drama to do something.
"Colonel, we can't just put the man on report for anything unless we hold a serious investigation and the said-accused is put in isolation in his tent and watched," Frank declared, trying to break up the tension and bring up regulations, despite the general shock.
"Major Burns is right, Sir," Margaret added. "Also, Major Simmons has not given us a reason to believe that he is not a doctor, rapist or whatever else you're accusing him of."
"Sir, your son is leaving." Radar, not knowing what was going on a few minutes beforehand (or did and was ignoring it), came into Post-Op, addressing my father quietly enough. "His unit is shipping out to the front now."
"When? How? Why?" I asked frantically, the thoughts racing in my mind. "I thought he was staying here to watch the 4077th. His unit was supposed to be our guards."
"If he could keep it permanently, he could, Jeanette, but the 43rd moves to where it is needed," Daddy answered for me as he left Post-Op, calling behind him that he'll be back and to keep me there then. "You can't always get what you what with the US Army. Dean has to go where he's ordered to. He can't watch you all the damned time."
Great, just great…the father who never knew me is treating me like a teenager and not thinking twice about it. Hell, the last time he saw me, I was barely in my teenager years anyway and he was being an ass to me. Does he realize that I'm a few years short of being thirty and been on my own for almost half of my life? Does he realize the life I've lived, the people I've seen and the things I loved? Do I act like the teenager he's treating me as? No, and I don't need a babysitter either. Why ask Dean to watch me?
"Say, Sir, why is that bottle over there cracked?" Radar had suddenly moved to a patient's bed and had seen the bottle which held precious blood.
The company clerk, young, innocent and naïve still (by our standards anyway) looked to Henry for the answer. Henry, on the other hand, was more involved in keep an eye out on Simmons by staring at him with such distrust that it was disturbing, even to me, who had seen that face very few times (and it was usually to my stepfather). Simmons, in the meantime, had calmed down by Daddy's sudden disappearance elsewhere, but was still frightened by the ordeal, as if he knew that it wasn't going to be the end of it. And with Henry around, there was going to be an intense investigation (especially after the fiasco with him being transferred to Seoul) and the accusations would be looked into.
Hawkeye saw it immediately and went over to where Radar was, ensuring that Henry was busy with Simmons. "Radar, don't touch that," he warned carefully. "Don't you know that touching something like that could make you sick?"
"Really, Sir?" Radar asked as Trapper and I grinned from behind, ignoring the conversation Henry was now having with Margaret, Frank and Simmons. "How sick can I get? Gee, whiz, I should let you take care of it, huh?"
"Sure, Radar, let me take care of it. You just stand back and watch the pro handle it." Hawkeye winked, which made me grin. The jokes would begin later.
Hawkeye smiled also and told a nearby nurse on duty to being him more B negative blood. Taking the new bottle from the nurse on duty a minute later (still ignoring Henry stare Simmons down as Frank and Margaret still conversed), Hawkeye reached over to the broken bottle, ever so carefully, to remove and replace it. However, what he did not anticipate was the old bottle shattering in his hand.
The crunching noise was loud and caught everybody's attention, even those who were previously preoccupied with Simmons' accusation. Frank and Margaret even stopped quoting regulations for the time being. They all turned to the noise and checked on the situation.
"Pierce, are you all right?" Henry asked, forgetting Simmons for the moment and ignoring him as he sat back down to write his reports, as if nothing had happened to him and that he was not accused of the rape of many women.
"Sure, Henry, if I knew whose blood was whose," Hawkeye joked, standing still and dripping blood all over the place, but moving his hand so that it didn't drip on any the patient. Instead, it was all over the floor, which was a safer bet and not by much.
"Nurse, get that patient his bottle of blood," Margaret ordered Kellye, also on the shift. "Clean up the patient as well and give him new clothes and sheets and pillows. I'm sure he didn't get himself any more blood on than when he came in here. And somebody get Pierce cleaned up and out of here before he contaminates something!"
"No, Ma'am, he did not," Kellye answered (referring to the patient), going up to Hawkeye to get him out of the way to clean up the patient and hook up the new bottle of blood. She then took the unbroken bottle from him and cleaned everything up. Meanwhile, Hawkeye stood very still, looking for a way to get himself cleaned up without making himself a nuisance.
I could not stand there and watch blood drip from Hawkeye's hand or have him searching for a way out and finding none. It seemed like everywhere he turned, he seemed to find no way to keep the patients sanitized and safe. So, I went over there before anyone else did (Trapper poised to move too), obeying Margaret's orders. I managed to avoid the blood, my body blending every way I needed, and it got Hawkeye out of the mess and ready to be cleaned up. Taking him by the unhurt hand and, wrapping my own Army jacket around his other hand, I led him around the mess, trying not to track anything else. Hawkeye just followed my lead perfectly, which pleased me since he's usually a pain otherwise. I assumed then that he had a few shards cut open his hand, since the pressure came from his fingers, and that mixing that blood seemed to be dangerous.
"Jeanie, where the hell do you think you're going?" Henry asked me, eying the scene with suspicion, another "fatherly" trait he's developed over the years. It annoyed me nonetheless.
"Well, if someone grabs a kit to scrub this area and sanitize it properly, we'll have everything cleaned up safely and securely," I replied sharply, angry that they would not take action. "I'm taking Captain Pierce someplace so that he can be treated properly. And I don't care about the cold. I can get another coat."
"Or as properly as Hawkeye deems it," Trapper said, laughing as we three walked out together, him behind me and Hawkeye.