March 28, 1951
The 4077th to the 43rd, Korea

Oh, my dear older brother, Dean,

So much has happened in this past month that I've been away from the 4077th, so I'll write as quickly as I can. A long letter is coming and I can see it now. I hate this already! I'd rather talk with you and not divulge the details on paper that could be censured if in the wrong hands.

Today is my first day back and also the first day in which I could lay down on my cot in the nurses' tent and relax and rest, knowing that I have nothing to do and would be able to anyway. I am not supposed to be doing anything, including being on duty. I am banned from the OR unless it's an extreme emergency and even Margaret is hesitant on those. I can't walk out of the camp without someone being with me, Hawkeye taking that position most of the time with Henry and Trapper competing after him because they'd love to. And, most of all, all eyes seem to be on me, as if I was a freak in a circus show because I shamed myself beyond belief.

I know that you don't have an idea why all of this has to be so. You also don't know why I was sent away from the 4077th and sent to Sister Theresa's Orphanage for the month, since people have been mum and the rumors scandalous enough to keep it quiet. The orphanage itself is ten miles away from here (thereabouts), too far away for you to be traveling from your unit and far away enough for me to keep away from the rumors. Father Mulcahy drove me there on one his weekly visits and left me there on Henry's orders, safe for the time being, and would not bring me back unless an inquiry has been set up in my name and I am ordered back to my unit to face it.

Why these strange happenings, you ask me? Why is an inquiry being set up in my name, the younger sister that was a spy and now is a nurse once more? Well, Dean, my dear brother, I am being sent on trial, in a way, because of my supposedly silly and immoral actions. I am posing a security risk to our beloved United States of America and they have to figure out how much of a risk I am, with all of the top secret (albeit interesting) information that I know and can give to the enemy…if captured, of course. They know me under a different name and have no description of what I look like, even though that is no matter to the Army and perhaps the CIA. They only are worried about a person who knows too much and drinks heavily, to boot.

So, again, why am I possibly being sent back to the United States, if that is the decision? Well, Dean, it's quite simple. You're going to be an uncle. Yes, my brother, I'm about three months pregnant and pregnant women do not belong in a war zone, especially in a hospital three miles from the front lines. I was ordered to a safe location (the orphanage) and worked there for a little while before being sent back. The inquiry is being set by those higher up, since I was sent here by Colonel Flagg, and their verdict will determine how much they believe me to be worthy of going back home.

I enjoyed my time there at the orphanage, truly I did, and was satisfied with seeing the orphans daily and finding food and medical supplies for them (the Black Market is fun to barter with, by the way). I even got to playing childish little games with them, something that seemed too far away in my own memory bank. However, it doesn't distract me from the dread in my heart and how nervous I am about this whole thing. I mean, me, being put in the limelight as an example of a loose woman and one that they cannot afford to be freed?

I'll start at the beginning. After all, that seems to be the best place to start.

Well, it all began after Hawkeye finally found me by the landmines, throwing up and trying to deny everything and say that I'm fine (and yes, I walked towards that way, despite what you tell me to do, which is staying away from them). He then got me up and dragged me to Pre-Op and made me wait in an examination room while he checked on the two wounded soldiers that came on chopper behind us. I was super dizzy and wanted to faint for most of the walk, but I was also worried about the wounded coming in. Trapper and Frank, who were on shift already, were handling them with Nurses Bigelow and Fields, so it left Henry free to bother me while Hawkeye was away.

"Ok, Jeanie, what's up?" Henry walked in, oblivious. "Pierce told me come in here ASAP, so here I am."

Henry came in while I was throwing up in an odd bucket (straight from the OR) that Hawkeye left for me, knowing that me throwing up was bound to happen again. And, Henry being Henry, he remained that way for a minute (oblivious, I mean) before hearing me gag and spit into the bucket and seeing it overfill a little. He then shook his head free of those cobwebs and dreams of signing, initialing, balancing checkbooks and children.

Let me tell you how shocked Henry was, Dean. "Holy smokes, Jeanie, what's wrong?! What did you do to yourself that I didn't know about and you knew about?!"

Henry finally saw what was going on and stopped dead in his tracks, I swear. He soon was on his knees next to me and holding back my hair, which had loosen from the bun I put it in that morning, whispering encouraging words in my ear and telling me that it'll be ok and things like that, as he always had. It seemed like the old days in Bloomington, Dean, by the way things were going. And there I was, going to look for Mom and Clarence too, to see if they were around the corner and waiting to pounce on me.

My stomach stopped giving my trouble a few minutes later, so I was able to talk for a moment before I had to throw up again. "I don't know, Henry. Why don't YOU tell me what's wrong? You're the doctor here."

Then, my head went back into the bucket, as if my stomach wasn't empty yet. It was going to be an afternoon that would be full of endless vomiting.

"You and your sarcastic comments are going to get you into more trouble one of these days," Henry muttered with a sigh as Hawkeye came in, toweling off his hands.

"What do you think, Henry?"Hawkeye threw the towel to one side, eying me with worry, as he had been for the past few hours.

"I would have said she had what every woman has every month, but it can't be this serious," Henry said casually.

Henry let me go (my hair pulled back safely) as I stopped throwing up, standing up to face Hawkeye with shaky legs. I myself felt my stomach lurch forward and flip after I was let go, but it stopped bothering me for the time being. I then sat back down slowly, keeping my head low and then between my knees, to keep the room from spinning.

Hawkeye shrugged his shoulders, also not mentioning (and God forbid he mutter!) one of the words that doctors usually avoid (others included rape and abortion, if you must know). "It's worse, I agree. I also think we need a female rabbit brought in, without Radar knowing what we did. Otherwise, we won't hear the end of it for a while."

"Hey, I'm over here." I picked my head up slowly, watching the room slowly come to a standstill, with two figures standing near me and not four or eight. "You both don't need to talk like I'm not in the room. And I don't think it's that serious. I think I just have some bug or something and it'll go away."

Henry kneeled next to me again, his face appearing urgent. "Jeanie, honey, when is the last time you had your – umm, your thingee –"

I tipped my head back to laugh, ignoring the new pain in my abdomen. "God, Henry, you still don't know how to talk seriously, don't you? If you and Hawkeye must know, the last time I had my period was in August and I didn't have another afterward. And this was before Hawkeye and I started dating and having sex under your nose in the Supply Room. The delousing station was too indecent and would have itched."

The commanding officer's face turned bright red. "If she was here, your mother would say that you're without shame. And sometimes, I agree with her."

Hawkeye laughed along with me. Whether it was about the statement (it being true sometimes) or the fact that Henry was being embarrassed and covering it up, I could not tell. However, admitting some things out in the open like that made me grin. However much you'd like to deny it, Dean, that's life for your lovely sister back then too.

"If my mother were here, she'd also be singing from the tent tops about how much of a whore I am," I tartly replied, a little angry that Henry mentioned my mother in such a tone. "And then, she'd be trying to kill my father when he was here a few weeks ago. And that's before trying to kill herself in the process."

Henry was serious again. "You're right, Jeanie, and I'm sorry for mentioning it. Sometimes, she can be right. You are without shame."

"That is not true and you know it," I growled back.

"Ok, ok, you two," Hawkeye butted in. "Jeanie, I want to test you as soon as possible, hopefully tonight, if and when Captain Courageous and Major Malpractice finish up."

"Pierce…" Henry warned him, obviously weary of the name-calling.

"Henry, either way, we have to get Jeanie tested, to get all of the obvious possibilities out of the way." Hawkeye wrung his hands nervously, as if he knew of the dark secrets I had been carrying and would have done anything to make it all go away with a kiss. "Simmons might have done more to her than we thought. Therefore, we need to cross out a lot of things off of the list before we do anything else."

"Anchors away, Doctors," I practically muttered, suddenly sticking my head back in the bucket, ending the conversation.

A little while later, when all seemed to be quiet and the two doctors were done talking over my head, Hawkeye pulled me back up and said we needed to hurry up and get to the OR before it was taken up again. The wounded had arrived in heavier loads at the 8063rd and we were sure to get some of it. We needed to head out and get the testing done with, even if I wasn't well enough, and make sure that Margaret didn't know anything until it was finalized.

So, that was pretty much that. I tested negative for VD, cancer, other sexually transmitted diseases and even the flu. After many embarrassing examinations later, it all came out. The last test was a pregnancy test and we all know what the result is, Dean, unwanted as this was.

The shock was widespread, I'm afraid, Dean, especially in Henry's department. He was so angry with me that he didn't speak to me in the days before I temporarily left the 4077th, telling Radar to say what he wanted to say to me when I left and then having Radar relate my message back to him. Henry also knew that I had to get out of Korea as soon as possible. After all, it was the right thing to do despite the worry in my heart. However, before the gallant commanding officer could sign any discharge papers for me (and a party to be held in my honor without him talking to me still), he was ordered by HQ to get me out of the immediate war zone so that they can set up their little trial.

That's why you have yet to see me. I went to Sister Theresa's for the rest of February and most of this month. Originally, it was suggested by Father Mulcahy and approved by HQ before their orders came to return here (I didn't mind because of the quiet I would get). Then, I was ordered back and told about my trial because of activities done before the war and the question of if it'll be a risk to send me back stateside.

God, Dean, I STILL cannot believe the reaction before and after I left this place. The nurses call me a whore just like Mom does, talking about Hawkeye being a backstabber, and then ignore me, save for Kellye and Margaret, the both of them looking in on me. The latter has tried to be my friend, which I am appreciating very much, but I don't like Frank around her a lot (nobody does, and I'm starting to think that she deserves better). She seems to fake then, if you know what I mean. Without Frank, she's concerned and asks me how I am. I usually tell her I'm fine and don't need anything, which drives her away, thank God.

Henry, as you possibly know, is still extremely angry, but is JUST starting to warm up to me now, especially after I came back a few hours before. He was even embracing me lovingly enough when I jumped out of the jeep, me laughing as he cringed at the action. He thought that it was all Hawkeye's fault, but then thought about Simmons and said in a private conversation that he was also a possibility, since he figured out (without asking me) that I was raped maybe three times or more. I knew that it must have leaked somewhere otherwise and I know that it wasn't Sidney Freedman who told Henry, the pain in my ass. Otherwise, he's been overprotective and it's driving me a little crazy, to be honest with you.

This pregnancy has been crazy, albeit quiet and annoying. It's also making me worried because of so many things, this trial of mine included. Trapper's not letting me have any gin from the still and always makes sure that I don't go to the Officers' Club or Rosie's for anything (spoiling all of my fun). Frank ignores me as always, unless he finds some fault with me, and we have three captains against him. Radar thinks it's all cute and all, asking me to have the baby when he's at the movies. Klinger asks if he can use that excuse for his Section Eight, as if he hasn't done it before, and if I would please help him with it.

And Hawkeye…well, he looks terrified out of his mind, to be honest with you. To know that a child might be his is killing him, although to think it might be Simmons' fault is worse. The suspense is not good for him. However, he keeps his professionalism around him and is as good as a doctor to all, which I know frightens him when he uses it on me. The spark between is seems to be gone then. There is no tenderness anymore and that alone scares me because it might mean the end of something. Inside, I have to accept it and will have to look back in nostalgia, seeing it as the best times of my life.

Right now, I want to be back with Sister Theresa, where there was no name-calling, complaining and even backstabbing behavior. There was kindness and compassion at the orphanage. Oh, hell, Dean, I humbled myself upon the feet of the orphans. Their acceptance of everything is just stunning and taking care of them seemed to be peaceful. I even thought about them day and night, concerned about them and not myself. They had nothing while I had something and that something I wanted to share with them.

God, older brother, they kept me busy all the time, making me wish that I could do more for them, but finding nothing except looking for food and supplies everywhere I could. I was also keeping them comforted and playing games with them before bedtime. Visits from Father Mulcahy helped because he brought the things we needed sometimes (with Captain Tuttle signing off on some of the supplies, making me think twice about who had signed what and how). Other times, he was apologetic because he could find nothing during the week, but was cheerful and brought joy and happiness to the children…and to me as well.

Otherwise, Dean, my trial is tomorrow, so I have to be ready. I have my formal suit ready (it barely fits on me now) and my jeep to Seoul is ready and signed out for the day. Klinger is driving me out there and staying with me, if you must know. He is naturally making sure that he wears his own outfit. It's an outrageous yellow dress, matching parasol and the new pair of high heels that were replaced by Henry. I could TELL that a visit to HQ would have him up in arms about wanting that Section Eight! Anything would help that guy get out.

Afterward, depending on the results, I might be allowed to be discharged or can stay in this hellhole. If not, there's to be another inquiry, depending on everything, and that would be another hellish experience. Another possibility is a little-known post in the middle of nowhere, if Colonel Flagg has his way, like he did when sending me to Korea. After all, he is really supposed to be in charge of me, even if somebody else is in charge of the 4077th and even me.

I shudder, Dean. I don't like it here or at another crummy post around the war zone, but I don't want to be with Mom and Clarence either, having a child or having it known that I was pregnant and maybe aborted, if I was given the choice and I took it. Truthfully, I don't WANT to be stuck in some other country with nothing to do and nobody to be with me when the baby comes either! My options are poor and my choices worse, much more so than ever before. Oh, Dean…what have I gotten myself into?!

Oh, my God, I am getting distraught and very nervous and I don't need that, especially with so much going on in my mind. I have to stop writing now. I think I have written enough for today though, Dean, but I promise that I will write more when I can, to tell you about the results of everything. I can only cross my fingers and toes, older brother, and so can you. Hope for the best, even for your future niece or nephew, who I have no decided yet whether to keep or not.

From the one who has stopped puking daily (for the most part) and wishes that things were better –

Your sister always, Jeanie