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Walter “Radar” O’Reilly had been dealing with horrific dreams, really since the day he got to the 4077. Luckily, the nights of having to crawl up next to Colonel Henry Blake (-Rest his soul.) was far, far behind him. The nights of him shuffling into Colonel Potter’s office with Tiger, his brave, yet worn stuffed bear, in his arms as he sniffled and repressed heavy tears, had just begun.
Yesterday happened to be the third night in a row this had been the case- And it was only Tuesday!
Radar sat on the edge of his bed and fidgeted with his fingers as he looked to Tiger, who was tucked under his covers where he should be.
Why couldn't Radar just sleep? He had the easiest job outta all the guys here! He was rarely ever cutting anyone open and picking out bits of metal, sewing them up, having to tell people that they wouldn't make it, or that their friends wouldn't make it! His job was elementary compared to that.
It was a knock on the door that caught his attention.
“Radar? Are you awake?”
“Oh uh- yessir!” He spoke.
From beyond the door stepped Father Mulcahy, with his night clothes on and a bible tucked safely under his wing. “Oh!” Radar’s eyes went a little wide. “Yes Father, Sir!” He corrected. He should've known it was Father Mulcahy, shouldn’t he?
The older man let out a soft sigh, a chuckle slipping past his lips. “Oh, no need!” He replied, clutching his bible gently and now holding it firmly in his palms. “May I talk with you?”
Oh, no. Sure, Father could talk with him! He just didn't know if this was a ‘You’re in trouble’, an ‘I need something’, or a ‘I need to let some steam out on someone who won't do anything about it’ conversation. Knowing Father, it hopefully wasn't the last option.
“Of course..” Radar hummed out, taking his glasses off the edge of his nose, and wiping them on the cleanest part of his jacket. “Uhm.. what about?”
“Oh, nothing too terrible.” Father Mulcahy sat on the edge of Radar’s cot.
There was a small gust of wind that finally caught up with him, causing him to shiver a bit- and the silence in the room didn't make the situation any more comfortable.
“Well…” Father began. “Colonel Potter wanted me to read to you.”
“Read to me? Why's that?” Radar stuck out his bottom lip a little at the idea of being read to- and the idea of Colonel Potter telling Father Mulcahy to read to him.
“Well, he says that you've been having nightmares. When I can, I read the children at Nurse Cratty’s bedtime stories.” Father Mulcahy explained.
It made sense, Radar guessed.
“Why do I need them?” Radar muttered, his eyes looking down at Tiger.
“It was simply an offer.” Father spoke, looking to his bible, and then back up to Radar. “I wasn't sure if it’d help getting to sleep any easier. Sometimes stories can occupy our brains for long enough to fall into a good, restful sleep!”
“...Radar?”
The boy had gone silent. He didn't know if it was the tears welling up in his big glassy eyes, or the fact that he was biting his tongue that made him quiet, but words just couldn't seem to come out.
“Radar? Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”
He shook his head just enough to finally respond in some way, shape, or form to Father Mulcahy.
Mulcahy himself nodded, and sighed a little, carefully placing a palm on Radar’s shoulder. “It’ll be alright, Radar.”
How could Father Mulcahy believe that? After seeing orphans die, and soldiers no older than Radar die, too! How could anyone think that anything’d be alright?
“I know this war is…” Father failed to find words for a moment. “-certainly something.” Was what he settled on.
Radar stayed like a statue, just quiet and still- save the stupid tears on his cheeks.
“I’m sorry.” Spoke Mulcahy.
This caused Radar to shoot his eyes up past his cap to catch a glance at Father. A curious glance. Oh geez- he made Father upset, didn't he?
“I know that this isn't easy on you, Radar. None of this is really easy on anyone.” He explained, moving his thumb on Radar’s shoulder in an attempt for a bit of comfort. “I’m sure of how much you’d rather be back in Ottumwa… I know I'd Rather be in Framingham.” A soft chuckle raised up Father’s throat.
“You're a very bright, strong, young man.” Mulcahy gently scooted a tad bit closer, analyzing Radar’s face however much he could. “I’m sorry if my wanting to read to you upset you.” Mulcahy apologized.
“It’s.. It didn't upset me none.” Radar looked up, tilting his head to meet Mulcahy’s eyes. “I just.. sometimes I wish..” Radar stopped for a moment to wipe his eyes- and try to steady his shaky hands. “Sometimes I jus’ wish not everyone saw me as some kid..”
Father nodded to this. Mulcahy was sure that Radar wouldn't quite understand exactly how much himself and the 4077 enjoyed Radar being young in some ways. As Hawkeye had put it to Mulcahy the other night at dinner, ‘At least Radar will be here to carve our gravestones when we all go batty, and some sleep deprived surgeon gets ahold of a scalpel at the wrong time.’
Instead, Mulcahy swallowed the spit that was collecting in his mouth, and spoke softly.. “I understand…”
“Well.. You just so happen to be the most important ‘some kid’ that the 4077 has.”
Radar smiled a bit. It was still a bit sad, but the smile was just bright enough to cause his eyes to squint. “Geez.. you think so?”
“I know so! Lord be my witness!” He added, chuckling.
Radar smiled, and nodded. “Well, gosh. You never can lie about nothing, and He knows just about everything, so it’s gotta be true.” He spoke mostly to himself.
Francis smiled- it seemed like he at least managed to cheer Radar back up a little.
“Well. If you don't want any stories, then..” Father got up from the cot, still looking down to Radar. “l’ll leave?” He said- much more of a question, to make sure Radar didn't need anything else.
“Alright, Father, Sir.” Radar gave a small nod.
Radar watched as Father left the room, giving a small wave as the door was shut.
Radar let out a gentle sigh- he was finally going to be able to lay his head down and get some rest.. maybe not sleep- but, any type of rest would be wonderful.
“Radar!”
His head snapped to his side- that was definitely Colonel Potter.
“I need your tush in my office!” He hollered, which caused Radar to shuffle up and out of bed, brush off his clothes as much as he could without wasting time, and rush into the office of Colonel Potter.
“Yessir!” He spoke, his eyes scanning around in the office as he opened the doors swiftly- trying to not cause any scene, or cause the doors to slam and hit the wall.
“Oh, nothin’.” Sherman had a small lamp on his desk lit, and a pen in his hand- assumably scratching on the paper in front of him. “I just wanted you in here.”
Radar sighed- something of great relief. That scared him!
“Oh.. thank goodness. I thought you had gotten stolen!”
Sherman shook his head a little. “No, son. I’m all here. Park it, won't you?” He motioned to the chair in front of the desk. Radar sat down almost immediately.
Radar looked up at Colonel Potter. “Is everything alright, sir?” He asked, worry on his face.
“Everything’s just fine. Take a breather. I just wanted to talk with you.”
Oh, not again. Just a few minutes ago, he’d ended up crying!
Despite the fear, he took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves. He looked around- making sure that everything was where it was supposed to be, making sure that the drawers were closed- and that the floor was half clean.
“I said, take a breather.” Colonel Potter let out a gruff chuckle. “A blind man’d be able to see your worry, boy. I’m writing to Mildred, just finishing up the letter.” He explained to the slightly-shaky Radar.
“Now…” Potter began, taking a sharp inhale as he signed the letter, and set his pen down.
“Would you feel like telling me why I haven't seen you get a wink of sleep in these past few days?”
“Well, Sir. I’ve been busy filling out everything in the mornin- making sure it gets to everyone and whatnot, you know? And then.. well, at night I've been..” He trailed off..
“You haven't been able to rest, huh?” Potter finished for him. “I think I’ve seen Klinger dawn less bags than the ones you’ve got under your eyes.”
Radar’s mouth felt so dry all of a sudden. Was it that obvious?
“No, Sir, I haven't been getting much sleep.”
“Much?! Son, I made your bed 3 days ago and the sheets haven't even been touched!”
“Well!” Radar said quickly. “I slept earlier, in the mess tent!”
“You damn near had scrambled eggs up your nose! You slept because your body shut down over your meal! Hawkeye took you back to the Swamp and stood guard with a helmet and fake rifle for half an hour as you slept!”
Oh, yeah.. Hawk was kind of drunk at breakfast, wasn't he?
“I’m.. Sorry, Sir.” Radar muttered, biting the walls of his mouth.
“Well? What’s causing the lack of shuteye? I’m sure you don't want to go out and stargaze, as much as you have been.”
Radar felt his nose twitch a bit, as he looked down at the letter in front of Colonel Potter. It was to his wife, wasn't it?
“I’m scared.. and I’m real sick of this war! And.. I wanna see my mom like nothing else.. and Uncle Ed! And..-!”
He took a deep breath- almost like he was about to yell- but the next words he spoke came out as nothing more than a hush whisper.
“And I’m afraid that I’m not gonna be able to say anything to them. I’m real scared one night I'm gonna go to sleep and not wake up.”
More stupid tears. Radar wished they would just disappear.
Colonel Potter tightened his jaw, letting his lip stretch down, and out into a frown.
“Son.” He started.
Radar let out a soft sob.
“I wouldn't let anything happen to you.” The words filled the empty space.
“I know you're scared.”
Radar gritted his teeth a little and watched as the blurry mass of Colonel Potter got up from his desk, and walked over to Radar, placing both of his strong hands on either of Radar’s shoulders. “The war has its own ways of giving people fears that they never saw before it.”
Radar sniffled, nodded, and let his head hang a little.
“I just.. wanna see mom.. I wanna go back to Ottumwa.. and see all the horses and.. all my family again. I miss the farm. All of my night is spent missing it there or- thinking of how much I’ll miss you guys when I'm gone!” He sniffled.
A sigh from the Colonel offered not much in the ways of comfort.
“You’ll make it home. And we can always write each other..” Sherman spoke. Radar didn't seem to notice Colonel Potter taking up the second empty chair that usually sat in front of the desk.
“Radar?” He called.
Radar’s head didn't move much, but his eyes darted up just enough to see Colonel Potter's mouth moving.
“You've helped me in more ways than I think you’ll ever know. Not only around the unit, but, well,”
Radar finally lifted his head a little.
“You make me feel like I'm back in Missouri.”
“How’s that, Sir?” Radar swallowed.
“Well, you make me miss my kids a little less. You’re a good boy, Walter.”
Radar couldn't help but feel the tightening in his chest, which caused a sob to get drawn out from his core, and slip past his shiny, wet lips.
“You remind me of my son back at home. You’re different in your own ways, of course.”
Radar couldn't even respond. Fat tears slipped down his cheeks and into his mouth- coating his tongue in salt. Shaky whimpers and sobs- one after the other- left his mouth.
“You’ve done nothing but good for the 4077. But how do you expect to keep doin’ good at all if you aren't letting your keister rest a bit?” He questioned- much more in a paternal way than in a nagging one. Much like a dad gently scolding his child.
“I know.” Radar spoke- finally, sniffling.
“If you spend every night worrying about if you're making it home or not, you're going to spend every morning sleeping and no time at all keeping up being the help you are.”
“I know.” Radar repeated in a whine, almost a plea for Colonel Potter to stop nagging him about what he should've already known. He felt so guilty.
“Then, how about you and I work on that?”
Radar hummed a little, clearing his throat after doing so, and trying to wipe the tears from his face. He looked down to his shirt, at the stains his tears had made.
“Yessir..”
Colonel Potter patted Radar’s back and helped him out of the seat, following O’Reilly as he walked through the doors into what some could call his room. It’s where he slept, at least.
Colonel Potter carefully grabbed Tiger from under the covers, handing the stuffed animal to Radar and chuckling a bit as Radar gripped onto him- hugging the bear.
Sherman flipped back the thin sheets and made enough room for Radar to scoot in (and he did). Then, he folded the sheet back over Radar, and let out a grunt.
“Wish my back was as young as yours.” He joked to Radar.
Radar chuckled a little, making himself a little more comfortable under the sheets.
“Even if I’m not here, you’ve got Tiger to keep an eye out, hmm?”
Sherman got a laugh out of Radar. He sighed and turned around, turning the lamp beside Radar’s cot off. Sherman walked back to the doors of his Office, and nearly left before saying a thing. But, he did pause, and then spoke..
“Holler if you need me, alright?”
“Yessir.”
“... You rest well, son.” Colonel Potter finally let the door close behind him. He didn't think he’d ever be grateful for how thin the doors were, but- he was beyond grateful to hear “You too, dad.” From the other side of the now-shut door.