MASH is the property of its' creators and syndicators.
Portrait: Max Klinger
6:30 am Thursday, September 17th 1951
Ever since he became company clerk he had to get up early. Colonel Potter was never later than 6:30, and he wanted to get started as soon as possible. When Klinger had first moved into Radar's bunk, he wasn't used to getting up any earlier than necessary. Maybe he'd have to be up by 7 or 8 – sometimes as late as 10 if he'd been playing poker the night before.
At first, Colonel Potter woke Klinger upon entering the office. However, Klinger became used to the "early riser" mode and was up before Colonel Potter got into the office.
"Sir," Klinger asked, "Would you like some coffee?"
"Max, thank you – I could use it this morning," replied the CO.
So, Klinger went over to the mess tent. At that early time of the morning, it wasn't very crowded. Since the hour was a bit early for most, Klinger was able to quickly get a coffee mug, fill it, and deliver it to Colonel Potter.
When he got back to the Colonel, Potter had a stack of papers on his desk.
"Max," Potter asked, "You know the order I like to have for this."
That was Klinger's cue. He quickly grabbed the stack of documents and took them back to his desk. After 10 minutes, the Company Clerk had sorted the documents to Colonel Potter's satisfaction. Since the Colonel just wanted to have the papers grouped by category (ICOR mail, Forms and Confirmations,) Potter would be able to get through the stack a lot more quickly.
Max was always willing to go the extra mile for his CO. When he was trying to get a Section 8, Colonel Potter didn't berate the Corporal about wearing women's clothing or disguising himself as a tree.
And, Colonel Potter had put in Max for a promotion to Sargent. He received the promotion 3 weeks later.
9 am Thursday, September 17th 1951
Max had a quick breakfast before delivering the mail. Quick was good, he thought. He didn't have to stay long and focus on his meal. No nice surprises there, but that was normal for the mess tent.
Hawkeye and BJ entered the tent just as Klinger was about to leave.
"Is Colonel Potter busy right now?" BJ asked.
"BJ, it kind of depends on what you need him for," Klinger replied.
"Do you like to swim?" Hawkeye asked.
"Sure, But in Toledo we just opened the fire hydrants when it got too hot," Klinger noted, "Why do you want to know?"
"We were looking through the Sears catalog and saw that they sold kits for above ground pools. Wanted to see what Colonel Potter thought of the idea. Pretty sure that we'd all feel a bit better if we could cool off on a day like today." Hawkeye stated.
"That's a new one," Klinger added.
"We could collect a little money from everyone, maybe 1 buck per person, and get the pool kit sent here. It will be a lot more fun than trying to swim in the shower," BJ enthused.
"Sounds good, Captains," I'm sure the Colonel can give you a bit of time now, " Max rejoined.
As Klinger left the mess tent, he almost walked right into Margaret. He stopped just in time.
"Sorry, Major," he said.
"I'm glad I almost ran into you," She began, "We need more towels for the women's shower. Some of them are so thin you might think it was tissue paper and not cotton."
"Let me make a note of it," Max replied as he got out the small pad and pencil he carried with him on every mail run, "How many towels do you want?"
"A dozen sounds about right," Margaret answered.
"Major, I'll order 2 dozen. That will give us a much better chance to get the dozen you need. What I've learned is that for some items, ICOR won't supply all you've requested. So, I double those orders and we usually get what we really needed," Max explained.
Margaret thanked Klinger and entered the mess tent.
As he started his mail round, Max was reminded about how important it was to be a good Company Clerk. And, for being in a war he'd tried to escape several times, he actually appreciated what he was doing. Hectic it could be, but rarely dull. Plus, there were always people with questions, and he was getting pretty good at providing answers. It felt good to be needed. Not to mention there was no more latrine digging or KP.
10 am Thursday, September 17th 1951
The mail bag was a bit on the heavy side. Besides letters or cards, incoming mail could include clothing, food, books, pictures, after shave or perfume. Major Winchester had asked his family to send the Encyclopedia Brittanica and those were very heavy books. They didn't send it to the Major all at once, but the two or three that came each day were certainly heavy enough. It was a little frustrating doing mail delivery – at least one or two people would complain about something expected, but not received. By now, Max had learned to say "Sorry" and "Maybe it will be here tomorrow. After all, he was the one who received the mail, not the one who sent it.
Once, a very angry recipient ran up to Klinger and yelled at him for giving a letter that mentioned a possible divorce.
"Why the hell did you give me this?" was asked.
"Hey, I just deliver it. I'm sorry if you got bad news," Klinger replied.
Corporal Bob Porter was 6 feet 2 inches tall and very forceful. How could his wife do this to him?
Porter grabbed the mail bag and stared at Klinger, shouting "Let me see what's in that bag."
Max explained that he could not do that, for this was the US mail even if it was in Korea. Porter hung on to the bag.
Max asked Porter to let go of the bag. Porter refused.
Just then, Charles walked past, "Gentleman, what is the problem?"
Before Porter could say anything, Max stated that Porter wouldn't let the bag go. He'd gotten some bad news in a letter and now he was trying to hassle Klinger. Winchester turned to the Corporal and let him know that if he didn't let go of the bag, he could wind up in the stockade. Porter backed off.
12:30 pm Thursday, September 17th 1951
Klinger was having lunch with BJ, Hawkeye and Colonel Potter.
While he believed he might be eating meatloaf, he wasn't completely sure. He wondered if the quality of food was deliberate. Poor to Mediocre food – eat quickly – spend less time in the mess tent. Colonel Potter was in a good mood. As crazy as it sounded, a swimming pool might just help morale.
"Too bad we couldn't have a pool with a diving board," Potter began, "Back in the day, I was rather decent on diving boards. I realize that the pool is going to be 4 feet high. Can't dive into that."
"No, Colonel, diving is not recommended. Perhaps we could invite the children at the orphanage. Some of them would be small enough to dive," BJ replied.
"Only we'll get the pool in October. Can't set it up until April or May of next year. We'll need a place to store the kit," Hawkeye stated.
"I'll see what I can figure out," Max began, "Just get me the page with the measurements."
Colonel Potter was smiling. Max knew that the Colonel was pleased that his CO was always finding new ways to do things. Always on his own accord.
For the remainder of lunch, the four talked mostly about baseball back home. Just about ready for the World Series and nothing was bigger than that.
2:50 pm Thursday, September 17th 1951
The third chopper had landed; the wounded were put into the ambulance. Plus, one truck with a half dozen wounded. As the deluge of the injured were being taken to be prepped and then to the OR, Max asked the Colonel what he should do. Since he'd been a corpsman, he could help move the wounded. Typically, he'd also get the medical supplies that seemed to always run low too quickly.
Colonel Potter asked Max to reach out to the 8055 for medical supplies. Of course, Max knew that there would be a trade. He was able to reach Sparky, who was always willing to listen. Since he'd been a teenager back home, he already was an expert at making deals. Usually, it was for food or cooking items. Now, it was a list of key medical supplies. Of course, Max knew he wouldn't get everything he wanted, but he could get enough of what was needed most.
"So, Sparky," Klinger said, "Do we have a deal?"
"Klinger, you drive a hard bargain. You ought to sell cars once you are back home," Sparky remarked.
Klinger laughed, "I actually did that at my Uncle Ahmad's garage. Used cars. Very used cars. I think we even had a couple of cars that were built during the Civil War."
Sparky laughed. Then, trade worked out, both disconnected.
Major Denton came into the office and explained that the wounded that had just come in were under his command. Denton was, Klinger thought, the tallest man he'd ever seen.
When the Major asked to see his troops once they came out, Klinger suggested that the Major might want to rest in the VIP tent. In a couple of hours a few of the injured had moved from the OR to Post Op. If he wanted to, Major Denton could go visit the men just out of surgery. Denton liked the plan and Klinger walked the Major to the VIP tent.
"Sir, if there's anything you need," Klinger began, "Just come see me."
When the 4077th was busiest, you could see it as its best. Everyone seemed to be in motion. Klinger thought that if a giant looked down, the giant would see what looked like an ant farm. Back in Toledo, his friend Larry had an ant farm. They'd watch the ants, sometimes for hours, doing "ant" things.
7:34 pm Thursday, September 17th 1951
By now, most of the wounded had been cared for. Unfortunately, there were two men who could not be saved. Klinger admired their courage, but wondered what they were thinking in those last few minutes of life.
There were more people in the mess tent. Since many wounded had been cared for, there were times for short breaks. Many headed to the mess tent. Max was sitting with Hawkeye and Major Denton.
Denton turned to Hawkeye, "You did a bang-up job in surgery. Almost everyone made it through. For Private Carson and Private Allen, I'll write letters to their families before I leave here. Hardest part of command."
"Neither of those kids looked more than 17 or 18. It's such a damn waste that they won't have a chance to go home and live their lives, "Hawkeye added.
They ate in silence.
8:12 pm Thursday, September 17th 1951
Klinger helped in Post Op providing Orange
Juice and Sandwiches to those who wanted them. The bandages, the blood – Max could never completely get that out of his mind. Maybe that was a good thing, but he didn't know. He did wonder how anyone who'd spent much time in Post Op could not feel anything. However, he had seen officers who acted as if major wounds were just paper cuts.
A soldier with his left arm in a cast called out to Klinger. Max went right over, "What's going on?" He asked.
"I'm Private Houston," the blond haired soldier began, "I was working on two letters. Put them on the table next to me. Now, they're gone. I know who did it – my buddy Buffalo Ben saw the whole thing when I was asleep."
"Who took your letters?" Klinger asked.
"Lieutenant Robinson," Houston began, "He's not my CO, but he is my brother-in-law. One of my two letters was to my sister; I wanted her to know what Robinson has been doing. Jerk brags about it when we're out and about."
Before asking where he might find Robinson, Klinger thought it over. He needed some "executive" help. Major Winchester and his amazing vocabulary might do the trick, Houston said that Robinson was in the mess tent. Klinger told Houston he'd see what he could do and headed for the mess tent.
Based on the description he'd received, Max easily found Robinson. Just 3 tables over sat Major Winchester. Klinger approached the Major and told him what had happened. Though Winchester tried to stay out of these "silly disputes," the mail was something else. It was a lifeline. He was particularly incensed by Robinson's actions. "Max, please come with me," he said.
The two of them walked over to Robinson's table. When they got there, Charles took the lead, "Lieutenant Robinson, please stand up." Not knowing what the Major wanted, Robinson obeyed.
"It seems that two of Private Houston's unfinished letters are missing from the table by his bed. It seems that at least one person saw you take the letters while the private was asleep. It seems that you wanted to stop at least the letter in which your extramarital affairs were described. It seems that Private Houston wanted to warn his sister. It seems that if you don't return the letters intact, I will get our Commanding Officer to find out how to deal with you. It seems that you best get those letters and then give them to me as soon as possible. It seems that your meal is over unless you enjoy eating crow," Winchester firmly made his point.
Robinson looked shocked. There was more.
Winchester added, "Sgt Klinger will accompany you, so the letters don't get lost. It seems that you're doing such will only make things worse for you."
:
11:17 pm Thursday, September 17th 1951
Max sat on his bunk, knowing that in a short time sleep would take over. When Major Winchester told Colonel Martin, Robinson's CO, what happened. Martin was furious. Houston was able to complete his letters and Klinger had put them into the "out" bag for the next day. This one had been busy in a variety of ways, taxing him both mentally and physically. He felt especially good about helping Private Houston. With everything going on he was still able to complete all he needed to.
He thought about the swimming pool. Maybe the war would end before they could use it. Peace talks were ongoing, but it seemed like all that was being decided was how high each country's flag should be. That such was given so much importance seemed ridiculous.
But, it was war.
The ridiculous would always be there.