"Hello Erin," my mother cooed.
"Say hello to Aunt Margaret," my Uncle BJ told his young daughter.
It took awhile for the Hunnicutts to get settled into the guesthouse, but when they finally did, my grandfather got to meet my father's best friend. My mom and Peg got to get to know each other, and became fast friends.
At dinner a few nights later there was much talking about the 4077th MASH, and how my parents got married, and many stories of my Uncle BJ and my father. As the meal came to an end my father said, "BJ can I ask a favor of you?"
"Of course, Hawkeye," Uncle BJ said seriously.
"Will you stay until Margaret has the baby?" My dad asked.
"Yes, of course," he told my father.
"I would like you to deliver our baby," my father told his best friend. "I don't trust anyone one else, but you to do it. I have already checked into Portland Hospital, where I work, and they said with both parties consent you can."
"Of course, Hawkeye," Uncle BJ said, "I would be honored."
It was at this point where I began to make my debut. My mother shrieked in pain, and then screamed, "Hawkeye, I think my water just broke."
"It'll be okay," my father ran to her in a panic. Everyone ran and piled into our family's car, and my father drove like a mad man the twenty-mile stretch to the hospital.
My mother got a room, and after hours of strenuous labor on both of our parts, I saw the outside world. A man with a cheesy mustache, my Uncle BJ was the first thing I saw as he partly laughed, but mostly screamed, "Hawkeye, Margaret, it's a girl!"
My Uncle BJ put me in the arms of a beautiful blond woman, my mother, and hovering over us was a tall man with dark hair, and bright blue eyes. "She's beautiful," the man said, with the voice belonging to my father.
"Oh Hawkeye," my mother said with tears in her eyes, "Look how perfect she is."
"Of course she would be perfect look at her gene pool," my father cracked a joke.
"I hate to break up the gushing over this lovely little lady, but she needs a name, and I need to get her in the nursery for a proper scrub down," Uncle BJ said.
"A name," my father crinkled his face up in a laugh, "Margaret, we spent so much time worrying about becoming perfect parents, and we neglected to come up with a name for her."
"What do you think of BJ?" my mother asked him.
"I love that," my father smiled.
"I think its perfect," my Uncle BJ smiled.
The weeks to follow were exciting. When I got to come home, there was a large group of people waiting for us on the wrap-around porch of the Pierce home. "Hawkeye," my mother said, "What is all of this?"
"If I knew," my father said honestly, "I would tell you."
As we neared the porch my father shouted to a man that looked identical to him, except his hair was white as snow, my Grandfather Daniel, "Dad, what is all of this?"
"Well," he said sheepishly, "None of us got to celebrate with you when you got married. I thought it would be nice if we could all get together for the next biggest milestone of your life. It was BJ's idea, not mine."
My mother was crying and she looked up and to an older couple she said, "Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?"
"Well," said the woman who must be my Grandmother Houlihan, "Daniel gave us a phone call to announce the baby's arrival, and I thought it might be nice for you to have your own mother with you as you adjust to motherhood."
We continued to mingle through the crowd. "All be a horses patoot," said a familiar voice belonging to a man with little hair on his head, Colonel Potter, "I think that she must be the most beautiful baby that I have ever seen, and to have been conceived in Korea. Margaret, you've done real well."
"Thank you, Colonel, sir," my mother smiled. "You must be Mrs. Potter."
"I am the same," said the kind voice of the woman next to Colonel Potter. "You are of course Margaret and Hawkeye Pierce. The Colonel has told me so much about you to I feel that you are my own children."
"Thank you," my father said, "That, is an honor." As we kept walking my father stopped in front of a short stocky young man with glasses. "Radar?"
"Hawkeye," he smiled. "You know you'll make a great father. You and BJ helped me grow into the man that I one day hope to be, and I never got to properly thank you for it."
"Well, not telling people that we made you who you are is thanks enough," my father joked. "Radar, you meant a lot to us, and thank you for putting the two of us up in hero status."
A Korean woman, and a man with a large nose were the next to greet my parents, and me. "Klinger," my father said as he reached out and honked the nose of the man. "Captain, Major," he nodded with respect.
"She really is lovely," the Korean woman said, "Max and I hope to have many children, and now that we found my family and moved to Ohio, perhaps we can have them soon."
"I hope they bring you as much joy as BJ has brought us already, Soon Li," my mother told the woman.
As we headed into the house, and everyone followed us a man with a familiar voice stained with the thick accent of Boston said, "Margaret."
"Charles?" Both my mother and father turned in surprise to see a bald, and bearded Charles Emerson Winchester, the third, and a tall attractive young woman on his arm.
"I came to see what everyone is calling the product of the MASH 4077th," he said sounding snotty as usual.
"This is BJ," my father said.
"After Hunnicutt?" His words came out a bit warmer.
"Yes," my mother answered. "Charles, I don't mean to pry, but you haven't introduced us to your friend.
"This," Charles began to lighten up, "Is my baby sister, Honoria. Honoria, Margaret and Hawkeye Pierce of the four oh seventy seventh MASH."
"Please to meet you," she greeted them friendly.
"Father Mulcahy!" My mother called loudly as they passed him.
"Oh dear Lord," he interjected. "She is the beautiful gift that came from the horrors of war torn Korea, and the often sad and stressful MASH 4077th. May God bless her, and her parents."
"Thank you, Father," my Dad told the Priest.
We went inside, and continued to mingle and my parents shared stories of Korea with their comrades in arms. "BJ, Peg," my father called out.
"Over here, Hawkeye," my Uncle BJ responded.
Dad walked over carrying me in his arms, "I want to thank you. Thank you for this party, and for being here with me when Margaret was in the hospital, and for delivery her, and being a friend here and in Korea."
"Hawkeye," BJ said. "I did it, because I knew you would have done it for me. You are my best friend, and mean the world to me."
That is my story. Well, at least it is the beginning of my story.