The 4077th hadn't changed a bit, Jessie thought as her driver pulled into the camp. He retrieved her bags for her, set them on the ground and tipped his hat at her as he drove off. She thought maybe she could sneak into her tent without anyone noticing.
No such luck. She spotted Hawkeye and B.J. making a beeline for her, both wearing their trusty natty bathrobes.
"The lady returneth," Hawkeye quipped, throwing his golf club he was using as a cane over one shoulder. He looked her up and down. "Looks a whole lot better than when she flew out of here, maybe well rested, perhaps – something else?"
Jessie blushed.
B.J. sighed at his friends' obvious lack of tact. "Welcome back, Jess," he said, taking on of her bags. "Have a good trip?"
She found herself grinning. "I had a wonderful time!"
"Oh, did you now?" Hawkeye asked. B.J. elbowed him in the ribs, but Hawkeye didn't care. "So, see much of the sights? How is good ol' Radar anyway?"
"Saw a few of them," Jessie said, reaching her tent. "But, mostly I stayed in bed. And slept." She added after Hawkeye's sniggers.
"Hope you were easy on him. You know, he was injured," Hawkeye drawled.
Jessie gave him a murderous look. "Thanks for carrying my bags." She threw them into her tent. Straightening her jacket, she set her shoulders. "Now, I've got to report to Major Houlihan. Back to the old grindstone, huh?" She walked away, humming to herself while the captains grinned at each other.
************************************
She was in post-op when Radar arrived a few days later. She and B.J. were talking to one of the patients when he walked in the door looking for her. He had been back long enough to change and poke through the wasteland that was now his office before seeking her out. She was concentrating on her clipboard notes, but somehow knew it was him when he came into the room. They smiled at each other as their eyes met.
"Jess?" B.J. said, waving his hand in front of her face.
She started. "Oh, yes, sir. Twelve milligrams of cortisone every six hours," she said, scribbling on the clipboard. She rose from the soldier's bedside. "Excuse me for a minute, will you?" She replaced the clipboard on the foot of the bed and walked to the practically beaming corporal.
"Wow, I wish I had someone to greet me like that," the wounded soldier said, watching the two walk out the door. "What a lucky guy."
************************************
Col. Potter sighed as he sat down the phone with a plastic clank. He rubbed his eyes in frustration, muttering underneath his breath. He studied the message from I-Corp he had just taken and cursed.
"Radar!"
"Yessir?" Radar replied immediately, poking his head in the door. "I'll get the officers in here pronto."
"Get the officers in here pronto, will you?" Col. Potter said wearily. But, he was left talking to the swinging door.
A few minutes later, he could hear them coming.
"Pierce! You degenerate! How dare you say such things to me! I ought to have you flogged!" Margaret yelled.
"Promise?" Hawkeye said, leering at Margaret as they sauntered into the office. B.J., Charles and Father Mulcahy were close behind.
Margaret stomped her foot in annoyance. "You are the most annoying, dirty, un-gentlemanly-
"Quiet!" Colonel Potter bellowed.
They immediately hushed.
"So, Colonel, what's the rush? Peace declared? We've all been discharged?" B.J. asked, settling on the corner of the Colonel's desk.
Colonel Potter sighed. "I just got a message from I-Corp. It seems one of the aid stations at the front has been hit. Again. Their doctor and two nurses were injured. They want a doctor and nurse up there immediately until replacements can be sent. Any volunteers?"
They all remained silent, looking at each other. Margaret cleared her throat. "I'll volunteer, Colonel."
"Now, Major, you've gone up the front the last three times they've requested a nurse. While I appreciate your, err, loyalty, I do think you ought to let someone else go."
Margaret pursed her lips. "Very well, sir. But, I don't think you'll get any volunteering out of my nurses."
"Yeah, they all like to see tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that." Hawkeye said from the corner, inspecting his fingernails, then the fingernails of the ever-constant skeleton in the CO's office. "They're suffering from terminal living."
Margaret rolled her eyes and started to fire back at him.
The Colonel held up his hand for quiet. "We'll decide who goes the same way we decide which doctor goes."
Radar bustled into the room with two bedpans. "The nurses' names are in this one, and the doctors' names are in the other." He sat them in front of the Colonel.
"OK, who's going to do the honors?" Col. Potter said, picking up one of the bedpans and shuffling the names around. "Father? You mind?"
Father Mulcahy flinched slightly. "Not at all." He reached into the bedpan and pulled out a slip of paper. Slowly, he opened it.
"Captain B.J. Hunnicutt." He looked up at B.J. "Sorry."
B.J. shrugged. "Nothing's fair in love and war."
"OK, now for the nurse," Col. Potter said. The paper rattled loudly against the metal sides of the pan as the Father rifled around and pulled out a slip. He wordlessly unfolded it and looked at Radar.
"Lt. Jessie Callahan." He handed the slip of paper to the corporal.
Radar's eyes widened. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, jumping into action. "I'll go get the supplies together and get a jeep. They should be ready in an hour. Then, I'll radio I-Corp and tell them their replacements are on the way. I'll have Captain Hunnicutt's and Jessie's paperwork ready by then." He walked out the door without waiting for a reply.
When it shut behind him, he leaned heavily on his desk, breathing unsteadily.
*********************************
"Your serve, Kelleye!"
The volleyball whizzed over the makeshift net. Bigelow smacked it, and it flew back towards the out-of-bounds line. Jessie hit the dirt, volleying the ball before it reached the ground. Stacey spiked it, and Jessie couldn't rise in time. The ball went hurtling against a tent.
"Yes!" Stacey said, pumping her arms in victory. "We win!"
Kelleye helped Jessie up. Jessie rolled her eyes and swiped at the dirt on her bare legs.
"Up for another game?" Bigelow said, twirling the ball on the end of her finger. "We've beat you three times, but hey, who's counting?"
Jessie knew Bigelow was counting. She cracked her knuckles. "You're on!"
"Lt. Jessie Callahan, please report to Col. Potter's office immediately!" the loudspeaker interrupted.
Jessie looked down at her sweaty attire, now covered with dirt from her dive for the ball. "Think I should change first?"
"Not a chance," Bigelow said, leaning over the tent. "Sounds important."
"Yeah, you're right," Jessie said, wondering what it could be about. "Wonder if I made Hotlips mad somehow-again."
"That's certainly a possibility 'round here," Stacey agreed.
Jessie jogged across camp. She was breathless by the time she burst into Radar's office. He was no where to be found. She shrugged and walked to Col. Potter's door, knocking on it hesitantly.
"Sir, it's me," she said, hoping she didn't sound nervous. With Major Houilihan, there was no telling what could be in store.
"Come in, Lieutenant," Col. Potter said. He looked up and motioned Jessie towards a chair. "Sit down."
Jessie obediently sat and nervously cleared her throat. "Sorry for my clothes, Colonel. We- the nurses and I-were playing volleyball."
"Did you win?"
Jessie shrugged. "Against Sara Bigelow, the Texas volleyball state champ? Don't count on it!"
Col. Potter chuckled.
Jessie coughed. "Sir, if this is about my latest supply count . . ."
"No, no, Lieutenant. This has nothing to do with the Major."
She sighed with relief. But, something in the Colonel's demeanor kept her a little uneasy. "Is there something wrong, sir?"
He showed her the memo from I-Corp. "They need a nurse at one of the aid stations, and it looks like you're it. You and Capt. Hunnicutt will be leaving in about an hour. Radar is getting the supplies ready for you."
Jessie dumbly took the memo. The words 'nurse' and 'wounded' jumped out at her, and she swallowed a lump in her throat. "Well, I – um - better get packed."
"Wait, Jess," Col. Potter said kindly. She sat back down. "Have you ever been to the front?"
Jessie shook her head.
"You'll do just fine. You're a good nurse with a level head."
"I'm glad you believe in me, Colonel." Because I don't know if I believe in myself. "Sir, if you don't mind me asking, how exactly did my name get chosen?"
Col. Potter leaned back in his chair. "Very scientific. We drew names out of a bedpan."
Jessie laughed, glad for the humor to ease her fear, at least for a moment. "Seems fitting somehow, doesn't it?"
When Radar returned from supply, he was surprised to hear laughter coming from Col. Potter's office. He sure didn't feel like laughing.
"Sir, here's the Lieutenant's paperwork," he said, bursting through the double doors. He avoided Jessie's eyes as he sat the forms in front of her. "Klinger's getting the supplies gathered up for you and Capt. Hunnicutt. The jeep will be ready in a half hour. Zale said something about an axle not axling or something like that."
He continued his rant as he pointed where she should sign on the forms the Army required on personnel traveling to the front, still not meeting her gaze. She didn't seem half as scared as he thought she should be, and that irritated him that she was braver.
He leaned on the desk as he pointed the places needing her signature with his right. "Sign here and here," he said tersely.
Jessie obediently scrawled her name on the lines.
Impulsively, she reached over and placed her hand on his as they continued the endless paperwork. He continued flipping through the forms as methodically as before, but he gripped her hand tightly in his, hoping some of her bravado would rub off on him.
Col. Potter remained silent, watching.
After signing the last one, she looked at Radar. "I didn't read any of this. You're not going to own my part of my father's estate, are you?" She hoped to lighten the mood.
He chuckled, but his eyes were miserable. She squeezed his hand again.
He opened his mouth to reply, but instead felt tears come to his eyes. Before she or Col. Potter could see them, he let go of her hand. "I'll just get these filed and check on Zale," he mumbled and trudged out the door.
She rose from the chair. "Well, I guess that's that."
Col. Potter rose also. "We expect you and B.J. back in a couple of days, Lieutenant."
Jessie turned and saluted. Under her breath, she added, "I just hope someone told the Chinese snipers that."
**********************************************
Radar wasn't in his office, and Jessie bit her lip in frustration. As scared as she was, it touched her deeply to see him just as terrified. But, she didn't have time to wait.
She walked briskly across the camp, not really noticing any of the day-to-day hustle and bustle going on about her. With each step she took, she kept thinking about her assignment. The front. The front.
She was startled when she entered her tent to find the nurses in various states of relaxation. They all looked up at her expectantly.
"So, what did the Major have on you now? Were you one off on the count of tongue depressors? Did you not fold the extra blankets in correct military fashion?" Bigelow said, idling painting her toenails with Jessie's polish.
"No, it-it wasn't anything to do with the Major." She took a deep breath. "I'm going to the front. With B.J.," she said idly. All of the girls gasped. Mechanically, Jessie reached for her duffle bag and starting cramming clothes into it.
"How long will you be gone?" Kelleye asked, sitting up on Jessie's cot, her magazine forgotten.
"Until replacements arrive. Could be one day, could be a week, I suppose," Jessie replied from deep within in footlocker. "You know how the Army is."
"Are you scared?"
Jessie's head popped up. She couldn't think about being scared now. "Have any of you ever been up there?"
Bigelow nodded. "I have. Once. And I can't sugarcoat it for you. It's terrible. Much worse than here."
Jessie swallowed and slowly resumed packing. "That's what I was afraid of."
"So, how did you get picked? Sausages in a bedpan?"
Jessie couldn't help but smile at the picture that made. "No on the sausages, but yes on the bedpan. Father Mulcahy drew my name out of it."
"Fitting, isn't it? The bedpan."
Jessie laughed. "That's what Col. Potter and I thought, too!"
They fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts.
"You know, it could have just as easily been one of us," Stacey said quietly.
Kelleye shuddered at the thought. "What happened to the staff that was there?"
"Wounded, pretty severely according to I-Corp. The doctor was killed. They think one of the nurses may lose a leg," Jessie replied, ignoring the ripple of fear down her spine. She stripped off her dirty shirt and shorts and replaced them with her fatigues, glad for the diversion. Just the thought of being up there made her palms sweat.
Kelleye reached underneath the cot. "I guess you'll need this."
Jessie held the helmet at arm's length, feeling quite morbid. "You guys really think this thing could withstand a direct hit from a bullet or bomb?"
"God, I hope you don't have to find out!" Bigelow said honestly. She finished her last toe and wiggled them expectantly. "But, if you don't come back, can I have your nail polish?"
Jessie threw a magazine at her. "I tell you what. If I don't make it back, you all can have free range on anything left in this tent."
"I bet we'll have to fight Klinger for your clothes!" Stacey replied. She pulled a dress out of Jessie's makeshift closet. "I bet he'll look good in this one!"
"Don't forget the matching shoes and purse!" Jessie said.
"And earrings!" Kelleye added.
The nurses laughed, only because it eased the tension in the room.
Jessie wiped her eyes. "Thanks, guys. I think if I had to pack by myself, I would have gone nuts!" She tightened her duffle bag and tied it shut.
Before anyone could reply, there was a soft knock at the door.
"Enter if you dare!" Bigelow called out playfully. She touched her nail polish gingerly to see if it was dry.
Radar walked hesitantly inside, his hands buried deep in his pockets. "Jeep's about ready. Klinger's got all the supplies packed up. Thought you might wanna know." His distress was obvious to everyone in the tent.
"C'mon girls, let's go," Kelleye said, taking a hint while fanning her sweaty shirt away from her chest. "After two hours of volleyball, I'm sure we're stinking up Jessie's tent worse than the Swamp!"
"I don't think it could get that bad," Radar muttered.
Each of the nurses wished Jessie well.
Jessie shook her finger at Bigelow. "I expect all my polish to be here!"
Bigelow grinned at Jessie as she teetered out the door, not wanting to mar the color. "Just make sure you come back! I'd rather have you around than the polish!"
After the last nurse had left, Jessie blew an errant strand of hair out of her face. "What a day, huh?"
"I almost left your name out because I figured no one would ever know," Radar blurted out. "But, I didn't because it didn't seem right, you know?" He jammed his hands back into his pockets. "Now, I wished I had."
"People go to the front all the time and make it back alright. I'll be just fine." Jessie shrugged, hoping she sounded convincing. And unafraid. She didn't want to add to his obvious concern. But, her mind starting reeling. What if I don't make it back? What if I never see home or my family or . . .
She felt fear grip her throat tightly and turned away before he could tell.
But, he could always tell.
Sometimes it was more than a little frustrating knowing there wasn't much she could keep from him.
Just as she thought, he could feel the fear radiating from her as she methodically started stuffing more belongings into her duffle bag.
"Hey," Radar said, touching her arm softly. "Hey, look at me, Jess."
Jessie used a shirt to wipe at her tears before she complied. He brushed one she missed off her cheek softly, then wrapped his arms around her.
She buried her face in his shoulder. "I'm scared."
"I know. I'm scared, too" he replied honestly, lightly kissing her hair.
She took a ragged breath and pulled away, wiping her eyes. "Promise me something."
"What's that?"
"If-if I don't make it back . . ."
He started to protest, but she stopped him, continuing in a stronger voice. "If I don't make it back, you write the letter back home. Write it to Mattie, not my father. He's not very good about reading his mail. My family wouldn't know I was . . .dead for a month!"
Radar flinched at her last statement.
Jessie noticed it, but wasn't to be deterred. "Promise?"
All he could do was nod.
Klinger knocked on the door. "Jeep's ready."
Jessie pulled away reluctantly and plopped her helmet on her head.
Radar couldn't help but smile.
"Do I look like a soldier, now?" she asked, smiling back.
"You're too pretty to be a soldier." He threw her heavy duffle over his shoulder and held open the door for her. Across the camp, Father Mulcahy was blessing their battered jeep, and a small crowd had gathered to wish them well.
"Do you think the Bible really has a jeep blessing in it? I've seen him do that several times since I've been here," she whispered as they walked closer, arm in arm.
"You know, if God wrote the Bible today, I'm sure he would have put one in it."
When they reached the jeep, Radar threw her duffle on top of the other supplies in the back. B.J. was already in the driver's seat.
Jessie gave Radar's hand one last squeeze and climbed in next to the captain.
"Ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be, I suppose." She gave Radar a brave smile, which he didn't return, as she grabbed the dash to brace herself. B.J. put the vehicle into gear, and they took off in a cloud of Korean dust.
The crowd watched them go until they disappeared around Rosie's Bar. One by one, they walked away, continuing their day, until only Radar and Hawkeye were left. Hawkeye threw his arm around Radar's neck. "They'll be alright."
Radar didn't reply. He sure hoped so.