8

"Tell me, are you jealous of me?"

"Jealous? Why would I be jealous?"

"Because I'm a doctor and I can have fun. Why don't you loosen up a little?"

"I have duties to uphold and if--"

"Don't pull that duties crap with me, Major! You can use that excuse as many times as you want, but in your heart you're screaming. You're just aching to show others what kind of person you are. The real Margaret Houllihan is in there somewhere. Not this galactic avenger you've become. Why don't you open up to the world?"

"You'd be surprised how many people don't take me in."

"Ooh, here's another one. Ouch, this one's huge. Look at that. Can I have my special little container?"

"Sure."

As Rag Doll pulled out the thin piece she found that it was a lot longer than she had anticipated. A little nick in the aorta proved it. "Doctor, I'm losing his pulse," Nurse Able voiced worriedly. Rag Doll pounded hard on his chest and looked at nurse Able. She shook her head no.

"Get me some adrenaline, now!" Rag Doll screamed. Margaret dashed for it, knocking over the IV. "Major, watch it!"

"I'm sorry, Doctor," Margaret whispered as she handed Rag Doll the adrenaline. She picked up the IV and hung a fresh liter of whole blood. Meanwhile, Annie stuck the needle into the lower sack of the heart. Rag Doll looked up at Able, who shook her head once more. Rag Doll opened the rib spreader a little bit further and gently massaged the heart.

"Wait. I'm getting something. It's very weak, but it's there. You better finish quickly, Doctor."

Rag Doll sighed in relief. She closed the last of the holes in a hurry. That had been the last of the shrapnel. Hawkeye slept the whole night. Rag Doll sat by her patient, wondering if he was ever going to wake up. As she sat in Post-Op, she wrote a letter.

Dear Daniel,

I guess by now you've heard of Hawkeye's disappearance. I wish I knew where he was. There's a lot of heart in that guy. They tell me Hawkeye went in search of penicillin and ended up almost killing himself on the way home. With bombs shooting in the air and all he was out there. I am not going to tell you about the settings that I live in because I am sure Hawkeye could describe it better than I could.

Some of them think he's dead. Others are thinking that he's working out a plan to get back to us. Some people believe he's in a POW camp. Don't let them get to you Uncle Daniel. I know Hawkeye and I don't think he's dead. I don't know...I think we would have found more than his dog tags. But knowing him--well, I bet he's right under our noses and we just can't see him. There are strange thins that happen to people. I still think he survived.

But guess what? I'm his replacement. That guy Frank Burns who always bugged Hawkeye isn't half as annoying as he said. I guess he is the world's worst surgeon, though, all thumbs and no brains. That man could bore the best of them. I suppose Colonel Potter tried to get him out of his hair by telling him to count paper clips. He counted everyone in camp and then put them in categories. They had over a thousand paper clips categorize by size and color. I couldn't believe it at all!

Margaret Houllihan, their head nurse, is a little bit too strict for my blood. We all share a tent. Samantha, Margaret and then there's me .We're all living in the Swamp together. That tent isn't big enough for the three of us. Sometimes Margaret talks in her sleep. "Oh Frank" this and "Oh Frank" that. Well, I don't mind much. You just throw that War and Peace book at her. Oh, don't worry Uncle Daniel. It doesn't hurt her...much. She just rolls over and quits talking.

Surgery here isn't all it's cracked up to be. They have a 98% survival rate here. I'm proud to know these people. The commanding officer is great. He lets us get away with murder. The guys here--I have found very cute enlisted men and a few great officers too. The chaplain is one great guy. He's helped both Sam and I get settled in. We had a whole two hours before we were stuck in surgery.

You know what? I think I miss you a lot more over in Korea than I did in Tokyo. I guess the thought of being around so many things that could kill you just isn't my thing. The other day we were being shelled. The patients almost all rolled out of their beds screaming. They wanted it to stop. They've been right up there with it. Most of them had little pieces of it buried in them for several hours.

This one patient, a John Doe, just lay there crying. I don't know what's with that one John Doe, but he looks so familiar. I guess it's his blue eyes. He is such a trooper. I couldn't believe how many wounds he has and still he survives. I hope that someday I can talk to him and know his story.

Anyway, I better get back to work.

Love,

Annie

AKA Rag Doll

Margaret came running through the doors. "How dare you!" She screamed. Rag Doll was puzzled. How dare she what? "How dare you tell me all those things in OR. If you have a problem with me, Miss Rag then you can go to a place where the sun don't shine."

"Be quiet, Major," Rag Doll said calmly.

"No I will not. I think you know."

"I know what? Major, are you drunk?"

"No."

Rag Doll started laughing. "You are too."

"I'm not drunk!" Margaret punched Rag Doll in the face. Rag Doll came up rubbing her eye softly where she had been hit. Margaret stormed off angrily. Rag Doll had been thinking of canceling the whole deal with the whole prank. She had felt a little sorry for Margaret. Now, though--it was playback time.

The next morning, Margaret felt a chill as she stretched. She rubbed her eyes and opened them slowly. "I'm--I'm on the roof," she said to herself. She screamed out in terror. A big crowd surrounded the building. Colonel Potter came running out of his office. "Margaret!"

"Colonel, get me down!"

"Hold on, Margaret."

Margaret got out of her cot and walked over to the edge of the roof. Suddenly she slipped, barely hanging onto the ledge of the main building. Hawkeye woke up when he heard the screaming. He limped outside slowly.

Hawkeye saw Margaret hanging there, and he stood under her to try his best to help. Without warning, Margaret lost her grip, falling directly on Hawkeye. His arms went flipping backwards, one broken and the other sprained. Owe! Margaret, do you mind getting off? My arms hurt very badly and I think I need more medical attention. "John Doe, you are a fool," Margaret exclaimed. He got off him quickly and helped him into Post-Op.

As he went under the x-ray machine, Hawkeye took a deep breath. "What were you thinking, John?" Rag Doll exclaimed. Let's see, umm--save someone's life! His mind screamed. "You are amazing." She waited for the x-rays to be developed.

Rag Doll saw the break in the one arm right away. The four cracked ribs were another obvious problem. His head was fine. She put the x-rays close by him so that he could see. Wow, I'm broken. he thought. He tried to laugh, but it came out as a loud gasping cough.

Margaret had nothing but a sore back and a bruised wrist. About a day later, she came in to thank "John Doe" for saving her life. When she entered, Margaret found Rag Doll sitting beside him. "Okay A, B." Hawkeye blinked once, hard, as the B came along. "C, D, E." A blink on the E. "F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N." Another blink.

"Annie, what are you doing?" Margaret asked.

"His name is Ben. He's been here many times before. He knows you and everyone else here. Can you believe how much you find out with a blink?"

"How'd you find all of that out?"

"He blinks once for yes twice for no; once for good and twice for bad. I even know his favorite color. He loves red. Not the color of blood, real red...bright red. He's kind and loves to play jokes on people and didn't really like the one I pulled. I told him that he had to be there."

Margaret looked at Rag Doll wondering what was going through her mind. With all the rude things she'd done, maybe there was still a person inside. Margaret wondered if that could happen.

Rag Doll was a beautiful young woman with long black hair and blue eyes. She was reasonably skinny, nothing revealing. Her heart was gold when she wanted it to be and out of control other times. Annie Pierce was very much used to being free. Samantha was just as good looking. She had long curly hair and these big brown eyes. She wasn't as skinny as Rag Doll, but she was still skinny. She painted her fingernails red and always kept a smile on her face. She was a born joker like her brother Trapper.

Anyway, Radar was having a great sleep when Samantha awakened him. "Hey, Shorty--hey, wake up, Radar! I want to make a phone call to my brother, in San Diego. He lives in Lemon Grove."

"Sure, sir--I mean ma'am--uhh--"

"Samantha." The lovely young woman smiled.

"Um--yeah. Samantha, I will make the call...one John McIntyre coming up."

"Hello?" Trapper said. He was organizing some papers.

"Would you accept a collect call from Korea?" The operator asked.

"Uhh—sure put the call through; hello?"

"Hiya, Trappster I hope I didn't interrupt anything."

"Sammy? What are you doing over in Korea? I thought you were working in Tokyo."