You may think that you've seen the weirdest things in Falmart with Itami and Taylor but you'd be wrong. In this chapter we return to the 407th CSH and see that the rest of Falmart can be just as crazy.
Once again, I do not own GATE or MASH and this is for entertainment only. Also, the character of Corporal Owens and his unique dilema were the creation of Taalismn and are presented here with appreciation.
And now
The Janus Campaign
Dear Dad…
So far it was one of the quieter days at the 407th Combat Support Hospital. Today, after making his usual rounds, found Captain Benjamin Franklin Pierce, known to all as 'Hawkeye', wearing his trademark red bathrobe and sitting in a lawn chair overlooking the camp's newest engineering endeavor. Well… At least the weather was nice and the martini pitcher was a fresh batch. Seated in the lawn chair next to him was BJ Hunnicutt.
"You know, this is my first pit digging," BJ commented.
"Well, you need to get out more often. Especially for an auspicious event like this! Behold! Rome has the Colosseum. China has the Great Wall. Paris has the Eiffel Tower. But nobody knows its pits like the US Army."
"Is that Salkowitz on the left?" Hunnicutt asked.
"I see you've noticed his exquisite mastery of the shovel. He's a magician at trenches and pits."
"Salkowitz!" BJ called out to the private on shovel number three. "Nice form."
The Private smirked and nodded, resuming his digging.
Taking another sip on his Martini, Hawkeye then turned his attention back to the letter he was writing.
Dear Dad.
It's relatively quiet today. That makes it a good time to catch up on writing home. I can't tell you everything that's going on. Some of it is hush-hush and some you wouldn't believe if I told you anyway.
Take yesterday for example:
As I've said, a whole town is springing up right next door. All kinds of folk from all kinds of creeds and species come here looking for a better life. As I've told you, we're pretty much the first people any new arrivals get to meet. Now that most of the large scale fighting has died down, our biggest threat is disease. With a whole new breeding ground for illnesses we've never seen before all around us, we have to be very careful not to let the next bubonic plague get past us. So far we've been lucky.
We're also extremely diligent about OUR germs. We're well aware of the potential for unleashing a biological genocide on the very people we're trying to help. We screen everybody for everything, no exceptions. So far it's worked. But germs aren't the only contaminants we have to worry about. Those are just the ones we're best prepared to expect and deal with. Others less so.
Coming from our side, the wonders of our technical, consumer society. can occasionally create unexpected problems, as one of the local tavern hostesses discovered. Hair and bath products are a big hit with the locals. Unfortunately, not all hairs are created equal…
"All right, Radar, show in our next contestant," Hawkeye had instructed. Luckily most of the cases lately were simple trauma cases. Somebody fell off a ladder. Somebody else with a splinter. Nothing difficult so far that day.
Radar nodded and led in a Vulpine girl who appeared to be in her early twenties by human standards. She came in with lowered ears and clutching her tail.
"Sir, this is Dora. She's a hostess at the Way Inn and Tavern in town."
"And what troubles a foxy young thing like you today?" Hawkeye asked.
"My tail!" Dora exclaimed. "It's ruined! And it burns!"
"All right. Radar, show Dora to exam one and we'll get a nurse and take a look."
It seems that she had seen some of her friends using some shampoo from the PX. They really seemed to like the stuff. So she tried it on her tail, hoping to give it that extra bit of bounce and shine. Turns out that the natural oils in her tail didn't react well to the shampoo. There wasn't a whole lot we could do. We flushed her tail with water and applied aloe vera. Just to be sure, since we were dealing with a completely different species, we admitted her overnight for observation. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything we could do for the fur. We had to tell her she was just going to have to regrow it.
That's one side of the problem. Our world has a plethora of wonders and conveniences and there is no way to predict which ones will present unforeseen problems. But it's not as if it only goes one way as some of our people have learned the hard way…
"Excuse me? Doctor?" The Airborne Platoon leader asked, approaching the slender white-coated man exiting the dispensary.
"That's MAJOR! Lieutenant. Major Frank Burns and I believe saluting is still customary in this man's army."
The Lieutenant hastily saluted. "Sorry, sir! But you are a doctor, aren't you sir?"
"You couldn't tell it by asking his patients," Captain Hunnicutt commented in passing.
"Oh! Nerts to you Hunnicutt!" Burns turned to the Lieutenant. "I'm an excellent doctor."
"Your secret is safe with us," BJ remarked.
"Quiet you!" Burns glared at Hunnicutt and then turned his attention back to the Lieutenant. "Now what seems to be the problem?"
"If you would please follow me, sir? It's easier to show you than try to explain."
"Mind if I tag along Frank? This could be interesting. And they might need a real doctor."
"Har! Har! I'll show you." They followed the lieutenant to an area where about a dozen 101st airborne troopers and about thirty locals were gathered around a slender dragonlike creature with pale gold scales. The dragon seemed to be squirming in discomfort but watching them with very alert eyes, lifting its head as the three officers approached.
"Gah! Dragon! Somebody shoot it! Shoot it!" Major Burns' instinctual panic kicked in.
"Calm down Frank!" BJ demanded, looking closer and noting the chest emblem with a corporal's insignia on it. "Corporal Owens? Is that still you?" Corporal Owens had been a lanky kid from Michigan. A few weeks after the seizure of Alnus, he'd been part of a local patrol making the rounds in one of the nearby villages. It had seemed harmless enough when an older looking woman in a grey cloak approached him and traded him an ornately crafted ring in exchange for a steel belt buckle and a couple of ration bars. It was harmless enough until he awoke the next morning with some of his squad mates shouting in panic and shooting at him after he had transformed into a twenty-five foot long slender winged dragon sometime during the night. Somehow he had managed to get everyone to stop shooting at him and convince them he WAS Anson Owens. Unfortunately the ring had fused itself into the knuckle of his left hand and was impossible to remove. Batteries of tests and psych evaluations had followed. It had not been a very pleasant time, although at least Captain Hunnicutt had gotten him to laugh at the thought of going to his highschool reunion and seeing the guys who used to pick on him again.
The dragon's head seemed to sigh. "Captain Hunnicutt! Thank god! Yeah, it's still me."
"Any luck tracking down your cursed artifact vendor?"
"Nadda, Doc. And now I'm itching like crazy! I haven't been able to sleep for three days!"
"You want to handle this, Hunnicutt? Fine with me. As for you, Lieutenant," Burns said looking at the crowd of civilians. "Just what are all these people doing here?"
"Oh! Those, sir, are the faithful followers of the 'Blessed Dragon.' You see that one there, Major?" The lieutenant pointed to a blue-skinned woman with long flowing white hair and dragon wings.
"Yes?"
"That's Desiree, Self-proclaimed High-priestess of the Sacred Dragon."
Said Priestess approached Major Burns. "How dare you threaten the Blessed Dragon! Were it not for His Glory commanding our restraint and patience, I would already have killed you for such an offense!" To make her point, she drew a silver dagger and held it up before sheathing it and handing it to the Lieutenant. "Our Glory tells us we must not commit violence on the Green Men. In His Name, you will be spared." She then turned her back on Burns and turned her attention back to tending Corporal Owens.
"Sorry about that, Major," Owens' lieutenant apologized. "She's a might protective of him."
Burns' eyes narrowed. "You just keep her away from me! Colonel Potter is going to hear about this!" The Major stalked off.
Hunnicutt shook his head. "I wouldn't worry about him." He studied the Corporal's skin for a minute. "Owens, I think I know what your problem is."
"What's wrong with me, Doc?"
"You're molting."
"Molting?"
"Yep! We'll have to measure you again but I think you might have just had a growth spurt. All that milky skin you've got? All that has to come off. Then the itching should stop."
So the unexpected surprises go both ways.
Anyway, thinking of Frank Burns reminds me of a man more appreciated in his absence… Or perhaps in Frank Burns' presence, Henry Blake. Henry has been sent to a place called Italica. It's a nice place and most of the locals are fairly friendly after we kept a small army of thugs from ransacking the place. The International Science Mission is there with the consent of Countess Formar, who is all of eleven years old but has a lot of devoted folks looking out for her.
At any rate, Henry is there helping to provide the kind of medical care the locals can't provide for themselves and also smoothing things out ahead of time if the Army decides to send the whole outfit out that way. Henry's made a pretty good impression on everyone, particularly Miss Kaine. She's the head of Countess Formar's staff. Think Margaret Thatcher but with warmth. Henry and Kaine appear to have become good friends. Nothing exciting, he's a devoted family man. That's part of what's great about Henry, but the other day, Kaine found out that Henry's wife just gave birth to their fourth child. (It's a boy, by the way,) and arranged a little celebration. It's the sort of thing that shows how people from literally different worlds can come together as friends. Maybe if more of us living in the one world could just choose to do the same.
Inevitably, not all relationships stay in the 'friends' category, no matter what the official line may be.
Henry Blake looked at Kurata with a resigned expression. "Sergeant," he said looking from Persia to Katrine and back to Kurata. "Mind telling me how you got all those scratch marks? I doubt you were in a gardening shed, so those can't be from a dozen rakes which just happened to fall on you."
The young sergeant shrugged helplessly.
"He'll be alright, won't he?" Persia asked with concern. Katrine leaning forward with equal interest.
"I'll prescribe an antibiotic cream. You girls can help the sergeant apply it on all those scratches," Blake told them. "They'll heal but if I were you, I'd be careful around lawn equipment from now on, sergeant and also, I'd be really careful never to make any rakes angry at you if you know what I mean."
So all's fair in love and war, provided you can tell the difference I guess.
Speaking of relationships stretching across the worlds brings me to Specialist Parna. We're actually making some progress on her situation. I won't get too far into the details here but it looks really promising that we can fully regrow her severed ear.
With her mother, Calliope watching, Colonel Potter lifted up the little Bunny Girl so she could look into the eyepiece of the comparison microscope. "Alright, Ariel. See that? On each side is a skin sample from Miss Parna's ear. On the right side, we put in some cells from your ear. See how much bigger and livelier that piece is? That's because your cells have made that sample want to grow and fix itself!"
"She'll get her ear back?" Ariel asked.
"I'm sure of it. There is a little bit of stuff we want to check on to make sure it works like we want it before we tell Miss Parna so we need you to keep this a secret just a little longer. Just between us, okay?"
"I promise!"
"Good girl."
Thanks mainly to a little girl named Ariel and a pet rabbit named Fluffy, we have a real chance to restore some of the pride of an entire race. Looks like we might be doing some good in spite of ourselves. A lot of people around here need help. Doesn't matter whether they're human or Elves or Vulpines, or Bunnies, or any of at least half a dozen other species, they're all people just trying to survive. The hardest cases are the children. There's more than a few who have lost their parents. One guy who's determined to make a difference on that score is Trapper John. There have been three kids, in particular, two boys and their little sister. They were actually part of the first group of refugees here. Their parents were killed in a dragon attack. Trapper has been leaping through hoops trying to get permission to adopt these kids. At first, he was a little worried about what his wife would think but according to Trapper, it seems she and their daughters are almost as excited as he is. But seeing as how last week, the last piece of red tape finally resolved itself, we all decided to throw a little fundraiser to help pay for the expenses so Trapper's family can come to Tokyo and take home its new members.
"And now to introduce a man who deserves no introduction," Hawkeye said standing in front of the crowd of celebrants, "I give you John Francis Xavier McIntyre! Come on up Trap!" Trapper stepped up with a martini in hand. "Come on there Trapper! Say a few words to all the folks out there!"
Near the door, behind most of the crowd, BJ noticed Major Winchester leaning against the doorframe with an odd expression, observing but not partaking.
"Join the party, Charles! You just might smile and I even promise not to tell!"
"Thank you but no, Hunnicutt. I shan't be staying for long. I see no reason to assault my palette with gin swill when I have a perfectly good bottle of Cognac in my quarters. But do enjoy yourself Hunnicutt and give my best regards to McIntyre. I will admit it looks like this gathering will be most successful."
"Alright then, suit yourself!" BJ remarked, turning his attention back to the festivities.
Winchester smiled now that eyes were elsewhere. From his billfold, he withdrew a treasury note he had been given by his father the day he was accepted into Harvard. It had been a proud gift from a father to his son but now the time was right to gift it to another. He folded the bill with its portrait of Grover Cleveland and deposited it into the collection bottle beside him, and left.
We deny it but most people want to do right by others, even if they won't admit it sometimes.
On the subject of people doing right by others brings me back to Dora, our hostess with the tail problem. It turns out that Radar wasn't satisfied with the limits of medical science. So he decided to try looking for another solution to the problem.
Having finished the latest batch of papers in his 'in' box, Radar dialed his daily call to Klinger to discuss anything that might be needed in Italica. Once the official part was done, the two took time to catch up on everything else.
"You should have seen it! The poor girl was sobbing and crying. She was completely humiliated!"
"And they can't do nothin' for it?" Klinger asked.
"Nothing. She's gonna have to regrow it. It was like when my Aunt Gertrude got a perm burn! She had to wear a wig for months before it grew out again." Radar paused. "That's it!"
"What's it?"
"If we can't make the tail grow back faster, then maybe we can find some way to cover it up, so she doesn't feel so embarrassed. But… no… I don't know what I'm gonna find for that."
At the other end, Klinger grinned. "Remember how I told you how my Great Uncle got out of Korea, and how my ma sent part of his collection if I ever got that desperate?"
"You're not getting that desperate, are you?"
"Not yet anyway, though it's tempting sometimes. But anyway, my Great Uncle had a beautiful fox fur stole in there! You could take that and make it into like a slipcover for her tail."
"Klinger! You're a genius!"
"I'm not just another pretty face you know. So all I ask is tell me how it works and if she likes it, see if she'll pose for a couple of pics with it."
"Will do Klinger! Thanks again!"
So, after a few hours sewing and then with Parna taking over the stitching to save Radar from serious blood loss, the two of them presented Dora with her new tail. To say she was ecstatic would have been an understatement.
"For me? Thank you! It's beautiful! It's even more beautiful than my sister's tail!" Dora happily embraced both Parna and Radar, hugging them both happily. "This is wonderful!" She let them slip it over her damaged tail and button it secure. She then wiggled it around. "It fits perfectly! Oh! Thank you! I love you both forever!" She exclaimed, hugging them both again.
Just goes to show that while medicine has its limits, the depths of compassion and ingenuity can be limitless.
Hawkeye looked up from his writing to see that the digging had stopped.
"It's ready?"
"It's ready," BJ confirmed and pointed to where Desiree was directing several of the followers of 'The Sacred Dragon' as they unloaded a wagon filled with several barrels. BJ and Hawkeye strolled over, noticing that whatever was in the barrels had a slightly fruity odor to it.
"Is this it?" Hawkeye asked.
"Yes!" Desiree said proudly. "It's an old family recipe! My mother and grandmother mixed it for me when I was little. I remember how awful those molts were! I should have realized the source of Our Glory's distress!"
"I'll go get Corporal Owens," BJ offered as the faithful began filling the pit with the viscous mixture.
By the time BJ returned with Owens, the pit was completely full.
"What is it?" Anson asked as he stared at the pit. Desiree beamed.
"It is an old family remedy! Your Glory should soak in this while I scrub the old skin away. The mixture will soothe the itching and loosen the old skin while adding moisture to the new skin. It is very relaxing!"
"Well, go on, corporal! It looks to be just what the doctor ordered." Hunnicutt prompted to Owens, who nodded his massive head and slipped into his bath.
"Ooh… Wow! This is great! It's working already!"
"That is as it should be, Glorious One!" Desiree said as she climbed up on his head and began to scrub, smiling in satisfaction as she scrubbed away the old skin and revealing a brightly golden glistening coat beneath.
Of course, all of this drew attention and a small crowd, inevitably drawing the attention of Major Burns.
"Just what is going on here?" Burns demanded.
Desiree glared at him from atop Corporal Owens. "Silence! This is a sacred ceremony! If you wish to observe then you will show respect."
Intimidated, Burns turned to Pierce and Hunnicutt. "Really? How could you two allow this? Imagine what Father Mulcahy would say!"
"You can ask him yourself, Frank," Pierce said. "Here he comes now," Hawkeye pointed to the unit priest, who was watching with interest as he walked up.
"Father!" Burns protested. "I'm certain you must be as appalled by this as I am!"
"Actually, Major, this is reminiscent of the Washing of Feet, albeit on a grander scale."
Burns leaned forward as he noticed one particular detail. "Is she… topless?"
"And bottomless," Pierce noted with a smirk.
"I could really start to envy that guy," BJ smirked.
"Ordinary cloth is too coarse to touch the Glorious One until after the new layer of skin hardens." She turned her attention back to the task at hand. "Just relax, Glorious one. Your faithful will provide!"
Like I was saying, today has been pretty quiet. We have no idea what tomorrow will bring but hopefully, it brings us all a day closer to coming home. Hope to hear from you soon.
Love, Hawkeye.