Chapter Text
After pouring BJ into his new home in the Swamp, Hawkeye flops down on his own cot. He's drunk and heartsick and angry; angry at Trapper for leaving without a goodbye, angry at himself for missing his flight by ten lousy minutes, and angry at BJ for sleeping in Trapper's bunk, replacing Trapper, being someone other than Trapper.
Hawkeye is hungover and heartsick and angry. And there's wounded in the compound. And between BJ and Frank Burns, Hawkeye does more hand holding in the OR than he does at lovers' lane. It's not that BJ is a bad surgeon, not like Frank is, but he's green. Fresh out of residency and not even a hospital shift in the ER under his belt; he'd gone right from the graduation podium to the army. So Hawkeye has to walk him through pretty much every procedure. Because if he doesn't then Frank will and then they'll really be up a creek. By the end of the twelve-hour shift, extended because Frank is so incompetent and BJ so new that Hawkeye barely gets a scalpel in a patient the entire session, he misses Trapper almost more than he hates him.
A few more sessions in OR, and Hawkeye is sure he misses Trapper more than he hates him. The letter starts as a joke. A way for Hawkeye to yell at the putz, a way to get his frustrations out. He's never intending to actually send it. So it starts like this.
Dear Fink,
Boy am I cheesed off at you! You almost gave Radar an aneurysm with that little au revoir. And was that really the best you could do? I went all the way to Kimpo to try and see you off and I missed your plane by ten lousy minutes, you bastard. You couldn't have faked appendicitis or a heart attack or something and gotten the flight delayed? What's the point of being a doctor if you can't even fake a minor to serious medical emergency? Some friend you are!
The trip wasn't a complete waste though, I got to meet your replacement, a Dr. BJ Hunnicutt. Despite his name, he hasn't been inducted into the Wednesday night perverts' club but he's a good cutter and a prankster after your own black heart. He's green though, hasn't yet acquired that olive drab finish made so popular by the army, and it makes me sorrier than ever that Frank Burns is in charge. He couldn't command his way out of a paper bag and he doesn't have the basic human decency of a goldfish. Or the brains. So I've sorta taken BJ under my wing, introduced him to the myriad delights of this mobile cesspool - wine, women, and song! Or in his case almost-gin, not making a pass at nurses cuz he's faithful to his wife, and chicanery. It makes me miss all of our drunken debauchery.
It makes me miss you, you bastard.
Hawkeye can't bring himself to write any more. And there's more wounded in the compound. So he stuffs the letter away in his footlocker and doesn't think about it for a while.
They're getting a new commanding officer, thank God, but he's Regular Army, damn him, so everyone is worried. Well everyone except Frank - who's enraged and whiny - and Hot Lips - who vacillates between enraged at Frank's misfortune and giddy at the idea of a competent CO. Hawkeye is more worried than most because Lt. Col. Potter has been riding a desk for the two years since The Deuce and he needs competent people in the OR damn it. Maybe he can trick Frank into field promoting Hot Lips to a full surgeon.
But Hawkeye is worried for another, more personal reason. A Regular Army commander probably believed in pesky little army regulations like Article 125, an article of the UCMJ Hawkeye has broken often and enthusiastically. And up till now, he hasn't been worried about the repercussions. Henry wasn't exactly a straight arrow himself - no one who looked that way at Kinger in a backless sheath could be - and he didn't care about army regulations unless Frank and Hotlips made him care. So he hadn't cared that Hawkeye and Trapper would take a couple of nurses into Supply for some heavy petting and then emerge together, thirty minutes after the nurses left, looking very heavily petted. And Frank is too stupid to put two and two together to get four. But Potter is Regular Army and smarter than Frank - everyone is smarter than Frank, Radar's teddy bear is smarter than Frank - and that spells trouble. It's not like Hawkeye even plans to debauch with anyone, but he's always been a little camp and a lot flirty, and he doesn't think he can play it straight - haha - for the entirety of Potter's stint with the 4077. So he's worried. And Trapper is probably the only one who would understand.
You're still a fink, but it's looking more and more like I might actually send this letter, and a lot has happened. In good news, old Ferret Face is on his way out as CO. In bad news, the new guy is an RA bird who hasn't seen the inside of an operating room in two years. I should've argued harder when Henry made me chief surgeon. Maybe I can get Frank to bust me to orderly as his last act as CO, that'd probably cheer him up. He's been moping harder than usual and even Hotlips is sick of it. Might be a chance at intercepting the pass, you know I'm good at that.
Speaking of passes, I'm worried about what a Regular Army commander will do to the nightlife around here. Frank's too incompetent - and too busy with Hotlips - to police our nocturnal wanderings but this new guy probably has at least half a head on his shoulders. I suppose it's just as well; all the nurses are wise to me by now. Still I hope Potter doesn't expect us to be all GI about things. And hopefully Klinger won't get into too much trouble; his draft dodges really brighten up the place. If he gets forced into fatigues, it'll be olive drab and khaki as far as the eye can see. Guess we'll just have to see how the new guy shapes up.
Speaking of new guys, BJ has been here for almost a week and is about ready to lose the training wheels. He's even bailed out Frank a time or two - the traditional right of passage for meatball surgeons all along the 38th parallel. And he's only upchucked twice! In fairness, one of those may have been meatloaf related rather than OR related, so I think he'll go the distance. Radar's yelling about choppers again so I'll leave you here.
Still your friend, you crumb,
Hawkeye