I sat in Henry's office, waiting for him to return from his Post-Op duty with Leslie Dish (after a very late night with her and then fishing at dawn, before we all got up for breakfast). He told me to stay there and wait for him the previous night after the Shirley Temple movie (a repeat from the night before), saying that he was finally ready to talk to me about things unsaid. I mean, we didn't have the chance to talk yet, but it was coming and we both knew it. I also knew that I had to admit to an affair with Hawkeye (and somehow make Henry forgive him and me for it) and what I did in West Germany. I had to say something about it.
I also knew that Daddy must have talked with him about what we said a couple of nights before and warned Henry about some things. What they were, I could not say, but Radar did mention it, as he peeked into the hole in Henry's tent and ran to tell me about it later on, when I was drunk silly anyway. However, I had to explain myself and what I had done instead of letting Daddy talk about things in his own words. It was time. Henry deserved the truth about everything and to help in repairing a relationship that should have been solid and should not have to falter.
It must have been an hour at the very least. I then looked at my old wristwatch, whistling a tune Hawkeye taught me in OR the day before (with Frank whining about it and Margaret asking Henry to make us all shut up). Then, I looked at Henry's cabinet, filled with booze and cigars, all locked up. I was tempted to ask Radar for the key (he had a copy somewhere) when Henry walked in, obviously depressed. He was still in white scrubs, covered in blood on the front, so I assumed the worst had happened to one of his patients in Post-Op.
Henry, I –" I started as I stood up.
"He's gone." That was all Henry said, interrupting me. It was all he needed to say.
"Oh, Henry, I'm so sorry," I gushed, unsure of what else to say.
When Henry sat down, ignoring all else around him (even Radar coming in and out to pick up and drop off paperwork), I did as well. He then looked at me blankly and was spacing. In turn, I tried to see what was behind his eyes and what could be hidden behind those shades of blue that always had been red with drink. He wouldn't let me through and into to his soul. It was closed for service. He knew that if he did, I would know what anguish he held and how much pain he felt. I knew that he didn't want that.
"Do you want to talk about it, Henry?" I asked finally, after what seemed to be an eternity of silence, after it seemed like my apology fell on some empty ears.
Henry looked up at me finally, after some minutes in silence. "No, Jeanie, honey," he replied quietly. "We're here to talk about each other, not what's going on in this camp. Not yet. We'll get there in time."
In time…in time for what? Were we running out of time, the grains in the hour glass shifting downward? What the hell was Henry talking about?
It was like Henry wanted to put off the inevitable and what needed to be done, but I knew that he always will come to find it somehow. Like our conversation about the past and why I left him and Lorraine in search of my own life, this will take years to talk about. Maybe though, we never will get to it, dancing around the subject forever. It'll be eternally a silent conversation, knowing what we did and never talking about it to make it seem sensible. War seemed to make everybody like that, it be damned to hell!
I sighed. "Let me start then. Henry, I…I know that you're angry with me and in many ways, with Hawkeye too. I have a feeling that you've been intentionally avoiding me so that you could see me fall on my own face again and see how it feels, which is fine, I guess. I don't know why, I really don't, but when I first arrived here, we should have talked some of this out. I was too involved in finding my place here and feeling excited about a new assignment that I also avoided what was more important to me. What was important was my own family and where we're supposed to be with each other. I was so stuck in my own pity party that I didn't notice you."
I wanted to cry, but I forced my eyes to remain dry and to keep their grey color, for strength and courage. "Henry, I ran away from you and everything else ten years ago because I could not take it anymore. You were married to Lorraine then. You wanted a family of your own, so there was Janie and Molly, who I saw when I crashed at your house when I visited on occasion. In the beginning though, I was almost eighteen years old. I was without a real home of my own, losing my son not even two years before and seeing that my own mother was planning on throwing me out in the streets and telling everyone that I was a whore and bewitching her husband. What would have happened if I went to live with you?"
Henry shook his head, not wanting to talk to me (I could see it), much less answer any question about my mother. However, we organized this conversation to happen at this time. He was going to hear it out, even if he didn't talk.
"Henry, I went out into the world the best way I could," I continued anyway. "I moved to Boston, took four years of nursing in the military, missed the last war by the skin of my ass, and was assigned to an Army hospital in Boston, San Francisco and then DC. Then, the Army assigned me to West Germany very late in 1946 when I was back in Boston, although my official records say something else, two years later than that, I think. I was working in one of the military hospitals there when I was approached by Colonel Flagg. He had heard about how I moved around a lot, how the hospitals liked me because I was observant and could catch the smallest details. He picked me up on a whim, trained me himself, and sent me out of the States.
"About New Years' of 1947, Colonel Flagg sent me to West Germany to spy on the Soviets, under a different name. I didn't have time to say goodbye to anyone and I felt pretty lousy about it. I'm so sorry about it. I missed Molly's birthday and everything, when I know that I promised to fly out and see everybody, and ruined my chances at being with family. I had been out and about all the damned time, being told where to go and what to do, and didn't have the time for the real family I left behind. A new duty called to me and I was going to ask about some personal time if my responsibilities weren't there. I had a job to do though. I accepted it and moved on, forgetting about everything else.
"Goddammit, Henry, West Germany was beautiful, even in the wintertime. The company I had around me was nice, even if they mostly hated my guts or drank with me to get away from their own tasks. I was away from everything I knew and was finally finding my footing somewhere. Somehow, I even felt like I was finally free from oppression. I mean, I was playing an actress and meeting people I never thought I would. Like, for example, I met this elderly Jewish man who would spend time with me, even knowing how liberal I was and how I didn't really believe in religion or anything like that. In finding that I was trustworthy and a good listener, even if he could tell that I was a spy, he would warily tell me about his time in a Nazi concentration camp, praying and hoping for his end to come from the pain and torture, but his God told him otherwise and let him live. His wife and daughter died there, Henry, and he was devastated from the losses. His only living relation was his grandson, Falk, who survived with him at the same concentration camp when all the others had died.
"Falk was a charming man to behold. He was very tall, about six foot and four inches, and had the blondest hair and the bluest eyes. He looked every inch a German, or some Aryan race, they said it was and barely spoken of. But even though his father was German and his mother was a Jew, he was condemned to a camp with his grandparents and mother, since his father was already dead and could not vouch for them. Afterward, he joined the West German militia and would joke about it, like Hawkeye does.
"Falk was a prankster too. He randomly called for my attention after talking with his grandfather when he put a slippery substance out of the parade grounds one day. He laughed as everyone fell, even though it was an organized parade and that he was a part of it. That was when I met him, when his grandfather smiled and pointed him out to me out in the streets, getting arrested by the police. Our eyes met and the rest, they said, was history.
"Falk's grandfather introduced me to him a few minutes later, after he was acquitted of all charges, and we hit it off nicely. We talked about everything and nothing, laughed until we cried and even had sex the same night we met. God, Henry, he was everything I could ask for in a person, especially in someone I fell in love with. He made me want to confine in him, so I told him everything, and he made me special, laughing at my nursing degree even. Eventually, I wanted to see him every night, despite my job. When we became partners in the spying ring that we were forced to be in though, suddenly things got tricky, for the both of us.
"I can't tell you everything, Henry, but I can say…how much I loved Falk. He was the perfect companion for me then, even when we were working closely together and having to be professionals at the art. I worried for him every time he went out. Of course, he went out because I was too high-ranking to go, according to my superiors, who just liked me sitting in restaurants and taking mental notes and running. I hated guns too. I was a nurse and not a killer, so I kept reminding them, and stayed with the spying alone. I opted not to run out and kill some Russians for information. I liked being the actress though and played it well enough then. Now, I don't think so. I lost most of those skills as I went to my next assignment here in the ROK. I even lost my real name when I was over there, Iréne Mountebain, codename Iris.
"When Falk's grandfather died, our relationship turned another page. We grieved together and grew closer. We wanted to be married soon after that, so got engaged immediately after the funeral. It was tasteless of course because of how close it was to the death of his grandfather, but I don't know if Falk cared or not because he wanted me desperately and me alone. That was late 1949, about a month before our last assignment, so I think it was maybe late October or early November. The wedding was set for about this time now, December 1950.
"Colonel Flagg, who was sadly my superior still, wanted me out of Germany and transferred to England, if at all possible, because I was getting pretty hot in Germany and the Soviets were wanting my head on the silver platter. He also didn't like Falk or the wedding plans and wanted us separated. Otherwise, he wanted me to be the nurse and for me to use my real name once more, to keep me out of the loop for a while. He had another pawn in mind apparently and was trapping me into a situation I couldn't get out of. He wanted control over my whole life, going as far as denying me security clearance into the US because of what I knew. And that control is, most certainly, not going to be handed over to me soon, if my father is right."
I stopped my speech and then watched as Henry rose from his seat and went to unlock his cabinet, bringing out two small glasses and pouring gin into both. The alcohol winked at me, telling me, nay, daring me to drown it. It held the solution to all of our problems and always soothed what should be ignored. It was high time on forgetting them, if only for a while.
"Go on, Jeanie," Henry replied to all of this, still depressed, his face finally paling and the white body still garbed in red. He offered me the other glass, downing his own quickly.
I got up and took the other glass, gulping it as well before putting it carefully back on Henry's desk. I needed the bravery to tell Henry the story of Bloomington to Boston to San Francisco to DC to Boston to West Germany to Korea. That drink was going to help me through it sadly enough. It would bring me to the hardest part and get us through to the home stretch.
I sighed once more, willing to continue. "So, Henry…Falk was going to Moscow, Soviet Union Russia, on a mission with my minions and Flagg's as well. Flagg and I made a plan, mostly mine really, but he didn't tell me what it was all about, only that they all had to get to Moscow and to infiltrate the government in some fashion. Like everything else, I did my duties and assignments without question and without asking what it was for because I thought it was best that way. I didn't want to know how and why. Flagg liked me for it, so continued to work with me until the end, until he found out about Korea and his own new assignments.
"Falk, my falcon in the sky, volunteered to be the leader and was granted his wish by Flagg almost immediately. However, his other request was that it be after the Christmas holidays, so he could spend time with me, and that was granted too. He was hoping to leave me pregnant, just in case he never came back, and I would have something to remember him by. Maybe it could also be a surprise if he could come back to me. It all never came to be obviously, angry as I was that he was going and worse when he didn't come back.
"I think Falk knew what was going on, chose not to tell me about it, and went on with the mission anyhow, to get it over with and have me move on to another place. It was his duty and I knew it. He would not have it any other way, I think. He was like that. He was always thinking of himself last and the one time he thought of himself, it cost him a lot more than what he could handle.
"On the morning of December 29, 1949, after a lovely holiday with my Falk, a few days in which I would never forget, he left with the others to go to Moscow. After this departure, I paced our small apartment every single day, waiting for word from him, like he said he was going to do, to make me stop worrying. I had the radio on and would have stopped everything to speak with him, even in code and as his Iris and not listen to the damned music. Days flew by and no word was sent, not even to Colonel Flagg, and I knew this because I spied on him myself. I think Flagg had an idea that I was on his tail and chose not to say anything, not until he had something more permanent, I think. He needed to get rid of me and do it fast.
"Well, Henry, late in January, I found out the truth of the matter. The mission was a failure and Falk was dead. The Soviets caught them, took all ten of the people who were sent to Moscow with him, tortured them for days, lined them up in the basement of a prison and shot them. They shot Falk first, or so I've heard from sources, because he volunteered, and then the others, by a firing squad. I found this out through Flagg's paperwork, when I snooped around in his office one night. He lied to me about Falk when he called me and told me that everyone was dead and that such-and-such happened. The only thing truthful he might have said was that Falk had died first and he had most likely said he would stand tall and face his fears."
I finally broke down, looking at Henry for help, but receiving none as I continued to sob and talk with a mushy voice. "Henry, I spent months there afterward, doing the same things I've done before, but my heart was not in it anymore. I was losing interest and making mistakes, running from one place to another and finding no more than empty shadows and Flagg laughing behind his hand. Falk was dead and gone forever. I could not bring him back, but remember the fondest memories of him, like his last kiss to me, even when I was extremely pissed off at him."
I paused, not wanting to go on, but doing so anyhow because I had to, even if it was for Henry. "Flagg, by then, had enough of my bawling and everything else I complained about and had sent me to Korea, where I am now, because he could not get me to England. My cover had been discovered supposedly and they couldn't use me anymore. So, here I am in Korea, doing what I was originally assigned to do. I am no longer a spy, even if there is money on my head, but I am still me, Jeanie Morrison. Even if I made mistakes, now and in the past, you know that I would mend them the best way I could."
A tear went down Henry's face, so I knew that he was sympathetic, even when his own soul was slowly bleeding. His heart was melting and his jackassery was coming to a close. A heart of stone turned to a fiery one.
"This is why you love Hawkeye?" Henry asked finally, when I could not talk anymore after a few minutes of us grieving together, moments I could cherish forever because of the closeness we both felt in each other's company. "He was so much like Falk and that was what attracted you to him. And you can't help but fall in love with him, can you? You fall in love with the practical jokers."
"No, I can't help myself anymore…" I continued to cry, but my sobbing stopped as I tried to breathe like a human being. "I love Hawkeye…no, I'm in love with him. I can't help myself, Henry. I had to keep my life a secret, and am so used to it, that I became defensive even to the ones I love. I haven't really told Hawkeye about Falk yet because I'm not ready to quite yet, although I admitted a lot to him about the affair in West Germany. Maybe later, when I am ready and so is he."
I hiccupped (a common thing that happens after I sob) and bit my sore lips, cracking my knuckles too. "And Hawkeye was helping me to stop bottling and to open up. Your best friend was helping me to open up to you in a way by getting me more social with everyone. Don't be angry with Hawkeye anymore, Henry. Instead, be the friend you were to him. And don't forget Trapper too. They're all on your side, despite what they do to wreck havoc in the camp. They want to help you. Those three majors are not going to have your command anymore and aren't going to put this M*A*S*H unit to shame, like they tried to do last month."
"Tied by loss, separated by distance alone," Henry muttered, who seemed to ignore my words again, but I knew better.
"Grief brings everybody together," I only replied (without the bitterness and anger), getting up and hugging Henry. His arms were immobile, but it was fine with me. "I love ya, Henry. Don't forget that."
It took a few minutes, but Henry slowly worked his arms up and around and finally embraced me, crying all the while. So, instead of him comforting me, I was doing it for him.
"I love you too, Jeanie." It was all I managed to understand from Henry's lips, a quivering mouth that was already telling me more than the tears already coming down. "But he's gone, Jeanie, he's gone…he's gone now. There's nothing I can do to save him either."
Although the West German Army had not been established until 1955, I pushed it back almost ten years. I do apologize for the creative license taken.