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It had all started innocently enough. Father Mulcahy was on call in the operating room in case the surgeons needed assistance. There had been a recent bought of casualties in from a nearby village, soldiers and locals both caught in the shelling.
Mulcahy watched as Hawkeye worked intently on repairing the small intestine of a boy who couldn’t be more than 17.
“Just a kid,” he muttered as they had put him on the table, “and they turned his guts into lace.” Mulcahy could hear the contempt dripping from is voice.
Usually supplying the operating room with running commentary, he was uncharacteristically quiet today, only speaking to give instructions.
“Clamp.”
“Clamp.” Nurse Kellye handed him the instrument.
“Kellye, I need you to grab the end of the jejunum there, it’s completely detached from the duodenum.”
Kellye reached in and adjusted the position of the intestine.
“Damn it, I need another set of hands. Beej, you free?” He glanced over at the next table.
BJ didn’t look up. “I’m trying to save this girl’s leg, sorry.” He stared down at her for a moment. “God, she’s just a baby…”
Hawkeye looked around and quickly met Mulcahy’s eyes. “Father! Come help me with this duodenum!”
The chaplain rushed over and Hawkeye grabbed his hands. “I just need you to keep it…right here.” He manipulated Mulcahy’s fingers until they were correctly positioned.
Their blue eyes locked. “Now keep it there until I say,” he directed, “okay?”
Mulcahy could only nod, caught in the intensity of his stare. For a moment he was consumed by it. He suddenly wished they weren’t wearing gloves. He wished the masks weren’t obscuring their lips.
Hawkeye turned to reach for his suture and began joining the two ends. Mulcahy was able to keep his hands from shaking, but his mind was reeling.
What had just come over him? He’d worked alongside Hawkeye in much more stressful situations than this. He attempted to brush it off as just being caught up in the adrenaline, emotions were simply running high.
The chaplain tried instead to focus on Hawkeye’s hands, watching the delicate way he stitched the wet, mangled intestine back together. He remembered a time when such a sight would have sent him to the next room while trying not to be sick. Now, all he could see was the beautiful work being done by the surgeon next to him.
After several minutes of tense silence, Hawkeye requested the scissors and snipped off the end of his silk. Despite the mask, Mulcahy could see him finally break into a smile.
“Kellye, we’re ready to close.” He turned to Mulcahy. “Thank you for your service, Father. Your hands were a highly valuable tool. We should patent them and make a fortune.”
“Oh, well, all I did was stand there,” he dismissed, still flustered.
“It’s still a little outside your regular job description.” He glanced over his shoulder. “And Frank can hardly do it inside his job description,” he whispered.
Frank’s head popped up a few tables over. “What? What did you say?”
“I said you’ve got quite the repertoire for your job description, Frank,” he assured, turning back to wink at Mulcahy. He was thankful for the mask covering his blush.
“That’s right I do!” Frank answered righteously, returning to his patient.
“Waiter!” Hawkeye called to Klinger. “We can seat a party of one at this table.”
“Right away, monsieur!” Klinger and Mulcahy lifted the boy onto a stretcher and carried him into post-op.
Once the patient was settled, Mulcahy went back to roaming the room, waiting to be called on. He focused as much as he could on the various murmurs around the room to distract himself from his thoughts.
~
Mulcahy tried to put the whole thing out of his mind in the weeks that followed. He busied himself with boxing, organizing a charity raffle for the orphanage, and trying to build up his Korean vocabulary.
But he had to admit that it did little to help. When he came across the word “surgeon” in his English-Korean dictionary, he went out oh his way to memorize it. Every time he saw Hawkeye in the compound he became very warm and abruptly had butterflies in his stomach. Now when Hawkeye spoke to him in the mess tent he had to focus more on listening, rather than on the depth of his blue eyes.
In surgery, Mulcahy tried to stay as far from him as he could, but still found himself watching each move Hawkeye made.
“Did Pierce spill tomato soup down his front?” Klinger asked one day, making Mulcahy jump. He had missed the distinctive clomp of size 12 heels that usually gave Klinger away.
“What?”
“You’ve been staring at him for ten minutes now, what’s going on?”
He tried to gather his thoughts and give an answer that sounded at all convincing. “Oh, I-I was just, recalling some hymns for this Sunday’s service. ‘Brightest and Best of the Sons of the Morning’ and ‘Morning Glory, Starlit Sky’ should both be sufficient.”
Klinger eyed him. “Hey, I'm not judging. I'd be happy to run the bases with him like a Toledo Mud Hen but I try not to mingle with coworkers.”
Mulcahy blushed so hard his glasses fogged up. Making sure no one was watching, he pulled Klinger into the hallway.
He hesitated for a moment, but Klinger was probably one of the best people he could confide in about this.
“Will you promise not to share with anyone what I'm about to tell you?” he asked.
“Oh, a reverse confession, Father. I like it.”
“Klinger, please,” he pleaded.
Klinger smiled but nodded.
Mulcahy sighed. “I have to admit I’ve been feeling… rather drawn to Captain Pierce lately. But at the same time I feel the need to avoid him at all costs. Just the sight of him makes me all…nervous. It’s been very distracting. I must say I’ve never felt this way before.”
“Ah, I remember that feeling. Like you’re climbing the hill of a roller coaster right before the plunge. I used to get that feeling around my wife, Laverne.”
“Well, how did you make it stop?”
Klinger clapped him on the back. “I kissed her right before the roller coaster dropped.”
Mulcahy frowned. “I’m afraid that’s not an option for me.”
“Why not?”
He spluttered. “I took my vows, Klinger! Poverty, chastity, and obedience! It’s my duty to God to continuously uphold all three. How can I call myself a man of the cloth if I disobey?”
“I’m not sure I’m the right one to ask, Father. I’m no doctor but I’ll be the first to diagnose you as a human being. Besides, people turn a blind eye to all kinds of things during a war. I’m sure God would forgive you.”
“But…” Mulcahy faltered. “...what would people say if they found out?”
Klinger huffed. “You worry too much, Father. People have called me all kinds of things. I don't care what they call me unless it's certified crazy. But until then, I'm gonna do what makes me happy in this cesspool the best I can.” He grabbed Mulcahy by the shoulders. “So what if, for once, you did something for yourself and nobody else? Not for the orphans or the patients, or even God. What if, in this crazy place, you took the plunge on a crazy feeling?”
Before Mulcahy could answer there was a commotion in the operating room.
“Klinger! I need another unit of AB negative!”
The sound of Hawkeye’s voice sent his pulse into a frenzy. They both rushed back into the operating room to assist.
An hour later, as they all slowly shambled out into the late evening sun back to their tents, Mulcahy came up to the corporal.
“Thank you for talking, Klinger.”
“My tent flap’s always open.” he said with a small salute. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think my stockings are starting to run.”
Once back to his tent, and despite the feeling of lead weights being attached to his eyelids, Mulcahy sunk to his knees and placed his clasped hands on the bed.
“O, Heavenly Father, I pray that you guide my way in the coming weeks. Please keep me on the path of highest good and protect me from those who wish me to stray. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, amen.”
~
A few nights later, Mulcahy once again found himself playing a ragtime tune at the officer’s club. Letting muscle memory do most of the work as his mind wandered, he didn’t realize at first when Hawkeye came up next to him.
“Buy you a drink, sailor?”
Mulcahy’s hands slipped and slammed the keys, filling the air with sour notes.
“Oh, apologies, Hawkeye. I didn’t see you there.” He gave his hands a quick shake and attempted to pick up where he left off.
Hawkeye stared at him for a moment. “Are you alright, Father? Everytime I so much as say ‘hi’ to you lately you do your best Mexican jumping bean impression.”
His hands slowed and he finally forced himself to look at Hawkeye. It wasn’t easy. He was sure the captain must have heard his heart beating.
“Oh, I apologize, Hawkeye. I think the casualties have just been getting to me more than usual lately.”
“Well Father this place gets to everyone at some point. But the last thing I want is for our dear chaplain to be pulling his hair out. You’ll mess up your halo.”
Mulcahy laughed in surprise at the compliment. He finally realized what Hawkeye was drinking: a glass bottle with purple soda in it.
“I have a blood test in the morning and Beej ordered me to dry out for 24 hours. So I’m taking a page out of Radar’s book.” He held up his grape nehi and laughed. “Although I think all the sugar and dye will kill me faster.”
Mulcahy smiled. “Well I can’t lose you just yet so I’m stopping you after one.”
Hawkeye blinked. Mulcahy realized what he said and quickly flushed. “I mean- this outfit can hardly afford to lose your surgical skills! And who else would host all of your elaborate parties? I don’t think anyone else could be trusted to throw your monthly full moon celebration.”
“What, to embarrassed to tell everyone it’s clothing optional?”
He chuckled. “After hearing their confessions I think I’ve seen most everyone here at their most vulnerable.”
“You know one day I’m going to convince you to let me sit in on morning confession.”
They continued chatting easily, passing the night. It wasn’t until Igor suddenly stumbled up to the piano that they realized how few people were still in the club.
“Lock up for me, will you, Padre?” He slammed the keys on top of the piano. Without waiting for an answer he wrapped his arms around the waist of an equally intoxicated nurse and left him and Hawkeye alone in the officer’s club.
Mulcahy tried to fight the feeling of dismissal that once again faced him. But here he was, left to close a bar he didn’t even drink at to make other people happy.
“I’ll be surprised if either of them figure out how to take their shirts off.”
Hawkeye’s voice quickly distracted him and Mulcahy looked around, registering his situation. He was left here to close up with Hawkeye. Just the two of them. Alone.
“Father? You alright? You look a little peaky.”
“Y-Yes. I just… people seem very quick to pass the buck to me because they think I won’t say no, just because I’m a priest.” He huffed. “Do they think I’m not a human being, too? Do I not also have wants and wishes?!” He realized he wa shouting. “Maybe I want to do what I want!”
Hawkeye raised his hands in surrender, unsure of where this sudden anger was coming from. “Easy, Mulcahy! No one’s saying that. I’d argue you have more right than anyone here to do what you want.”
Was this his sign? Hawkeye was practically offering.
No, he had to be sure.
“I’ll be honest, Hawkeye, I’ve been…questioning my position here, lately. I feel as though God is testing me, but I can’t tell which choice I make is the right one.”
“Then you might as well go after the choice you want. That way you still have a 50% chance of getting it right.” Hawkeye smiled, his eyes sparkling.
Mulcahy couldn’t help but smile back. “Yes, that’s what I’ve been told. I believe I’m just…afraid to take the plunge.”
“Would you like to borrow my plunger?”
Take the plunge. Take the plunge…
“Yes, I would.” Before he could stop himself, Mulcahy leaned forward and met Hawkeye’s lips with his. Hawkeye froze in surprise. Mulcahy finally pulled away, his face warm.
Hawkeye’s face was a mask of shock and hesitation. After a few agonizing moments, he finally spoke. “Padre, I can’t have you throwing away your collar on a guy like me. I swear, I’m not worth it.”
His stomach dropped. But Klinger’s words still rang in his head. “Hawkeye, I’m afraid I have to disagree. I’ve met many Godly people, many good people. But no one as brave, honorable, and kind-hearted as you.”
Hawkeye stood up and paced. “I mean, look, it’s not like I haven’t… I mean, you’re certainly…and I would really like to-to-” He had never seen Hawkeye so flustered. “But I refuse to ruin your good standing with the Lord just because I want your company!”
Mulcahy stood up. “I’m telling you this is what I want. Me, John Patrick Francis Mulcahy.” He walked over and took his hand. “Being a priest is my calling, sure. But I believe I’m permitted to have desires outside of that.”
Hawkeye looked at their joined hands, then back at Mulcahy. His eyes were desperate. “What if I ruin you? What if you think you want me and all I leave you with is a dishonorable discharge and a reputation in the gutter?” He purses his lips. “I could never live with myself?”
Mulcahy grips his hand tighter. “And what if I want you anyways? What if I leave you with the same things?”
Please, he prayed silently. Let him see he is worth this.
Hawkeye was silent, contemplating. He finally looked back at Mulcahy. “I hate to tell you this, Mulchay…” His hopes plummeted, but Hawkeye suddenly smiled. “...but my reputation is already in the gutter.”
He leaned down and caught Mulcahy’s lips in a kiss. He wrapped his arms around Hawkeye’s neck and pulled him closer, moving their lips together. He hadn’t felt this close to God since coming to Korea.
The doors of the Officer’s Club suddenly burst open and Klinger sauntered in, wearing a black flapper dress and elaborate feather headpiece. Mulcahy suddenly remembered he had never locked the doors.
“Igor! Pour me a-” He stopped short, eyes widening.
The pair quickly separated and Hawkeye attempted to cover their tracks. “And that, Father, is how you perform standing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I aced that test in medical school.”
Mulcahy’s head was spinning but he tried to play along. “O-Oh! Yes! I’ll make sure to remember that one!” They both looked at Klinger, seeing if they were getting away with it.
Klinger gave them a dubious look. “You might want to work on that one, sirs.” His face suddenly lit up. “How about Father Mulcahey got bit on the lip by an exotic Korean bug and the doc had to suck the poison out?”
“Klinger!” Hawkeye shouted.
Klinger smiled. “Sorry, I’ll leave you sirs to it. Any more excuses I can think of I’ll make sure to write down.” He gave a thumbs up before turning and leaving, closing the doors behind him.
The two were silent for a moment before Hawkeye quipped, “This is usually the part where I tell the nurse that we’ll have to do it again sometime.”
Mulcahy gave him a reproachful look and Hawkeye chuckled. He took the Padre’s arm and looped it through his. “But tonight, I’ll be a gentleman and walk you back to your tent.” He walked them over to the piano and picked up the keys to the club, swinging them around his finger. “Shall we?”
He nodded. “I trust you will be a gentleman. I have a feeling Klinger will have quite a bone to pick with you if you try anything fresh.”
Hawkeye cackled as he led them outside and locked up. “Going in for that sugar was pretty fresh,” he murmured as they walked back to Mulcahy’s tent, “especially with my guard down like that.”
“Would you like me to give you a warning each time I plan on it?” he asked sweetly. They stopped at the door of his tent. “Or I could send you a letter in advance? How does a weeks notice sound?”
“Alright, alright, point taken.” He smiled at him gently. “I’d give you a kiss goodnight but I don’t know what the protocols are. Not that I tend to follow most protocols.”
His heart fluttered at Hawkeye’s . He leaned up and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. “If anyone asks, that was a blessing.”
Hawkeye touches his cheek, his face tender. “It was.” He quickly squeezes Mulcahy’s hand. “Goodnight, Padre.” He walks back towards the swamp.
“Goodnight.” Mulcahy goes inside and begins to prepare for bed, still riding the high of the evening. Before climbing into the covers, he knelt down and put his hands together. “O, Heavenly Father, I thank you for this blessing of mine. I pray Hawkeye not faced any consequences because of my actions. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, amen.”