NOTE: This story takes place one month after the 4077th returned home.


Trapper John McIntyre was frantically picking up his kids' toys from the floor of his home in the Boston suburbs, cursing under his breath as he did so; he wanted the place to look perfect for his visitor.

Trapper was showing his age a bit; some gray hairs found their way into his curly mop. At least he still had a full head; Korea had robbed men of much worse. He looked around to make sure there was nothing else cluttering up the modest home.

There was a loud knock on the front door, which stunned Trapper; to say he was anxious would be an understatement. He'd been anticipating this reunion for two years, when he left Korea to perform the rest of his military service stateside. Now it was time to face the past.

There was another loud knock; this one seemed angry.

"I'll be right there!" Trapper exclaimed. "Jeez, you're worse than my wife, if that's possible."

Trapper sprinted to the front door; one more knock and he would lose what was left of his sanity. Upon opening the door, he came upon the familiar visage of Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce, his tent-mate at the M*A*S*H (Mobile Army Surgical Hospital) 4077 in Korea, standing on his front porch. Hawkeye stood there, expressionless.

Trapper grabbed his old buddy and embraced him warmly.

"Jeez Hawk, you look great. A few gray hairs since I last saw ya, but Korea'll do that to a guy."

Hawkeye didn't respond. He remained still, unresponsive to his old friend's embrace.

"What gives, Hawk? You're starting to remind me of my wife when I forget our anniversary. And that scares me."

After a pause, Hawkeye's mouth opened.

"You never said goodbye, Trap."

Trapper stood there, perplexed.

"Uh, come again, Hawk."

"You never said goodbye, Trap. Everybody else said goodbye when they left, except you. One day, I go for a little r & r in Tokyo, the next thing I know, you've been shipped stateside."

Now, Hawkeye's stony reception made sense; thanks to the U.S. Army, Trapper had inadvertently hurt his best friend after many months sharing a tent, not to mention the countless hours spent in surgery and as comrades-in-arms as they drank away their sorrows.

"Hawk - listen, I was given the choice of staying in the glorified cesspool we both knew and loved as Korea, or I could take a cushy job in a stateside VA hospital. I think, given the circumstances, I made the only possible choice."

Hawkeye tried to remain stoic, but his reserve crumbled as he broke into a big grin, tears welling up in his eyes. He grabbed his old friend and returned his embrace.

"You son of a bitch. You always were a smooth talker."

"Hey, when you gotta deal with my wife, it's par for the course. Come on in."

Hawkeye stepped inside; he was assaulted by the homey touches that his wife and kids lent it; there were tasteful works of art on the walls, school papers affixed to the refrigerators with magnets and a collection of cookbooks near the cupboard.

"Trap, this is disgusting. You've been domesticated."

"The wife even makes me go potty outside when I'm bad."

"Which means you haven't used a proper toilet since returning home."

Trapper broke into uproarious laughter; he hadn't been on the receiving end of one of Hawkeye's zingers for two years. It was a welcome relief from the incessant nagging he received from his wife and two girls.

Hawkeye looked around for them. "Speaking of that, where is everybody?"

"Well, the girls wanted to go to this carnival and as luck would have it, it's today. They'll be home in time for dinner. Don't worry - you're going to eat like a king."

"After Korea, Spam on a shingle is gourmet food to me."

"Whatever happened to the cook at the 4077, anyway?"

"He's doing five to ten years at Leavenworth. He gets parole after six years for good cooking."

Trapper laughed again. "I tell ya, Hawk - Korea wouldn't have been the same without you."

"Uh, I don't mean to interrupt this touching moment, but aren't you going to offer me a drink?"

"Come with me, old buddy..."


Hawkeye was amazed at how much Trapper's basement resembled their tent, affectionately dubbed "The Swamp." It was littered with tools, a spare tire and several unfinished woodworking projects. But what stunned Hawkeye the most was the contraption that sat dead center.

"I think I'm having déjà vu all over again. That looks like a still."

"It is. I was at the junkyard looking for some car parts one day and I saw these parts and it reminded me of the still we had in The Swamp; also, I got so conditioned to the stuff we drank in Korea that I can't drink regular booze anymore. I haven't had a real drink since I got shipped stateside."

Hawkeye laughed loudly. "Me, too - I haven't had an improper drink since Korea."

They laughed together; the irony that they grew conditioned to their homemade firewater sent them into spasms of laughter over the next couple of minutes.

Once it subsided, Trapper poured them both a drink and motioned Hawkeye over to the couch that sat against the wall.

Trapper raised his glass. "Here's to not being in Korea."

Hawkeye clinked his glass against Trapper's. "Not only do I second that emotion, but I third, fourth and fifth it. And speaking of fifths, I hope you have plenty of this stuff because my liver hasn't been pickled in a dog's age. Or a cat's age, for that matter."

They downed their drinks in one gulp; Trapper poured them seconds.

"So, how was it after I left?"

"Pretty much the same. Outside of me going insane and spending some time in the cracker factory, business as usual."

"Are you serious?"

"On my honor as a military man, I swear it's true. Have I ever lied to you?"

"Hmmm, I have to think about that one. Anyway, you seem to have made it out of Korea okay - anyone else notice you flipping out?"

"Not really - they all thought I was pulling a Klinger and I had to go back to the 4077th to finish my tour of duty. It's a much nicer place after you've spent some time with people whose cheese had slipped off their cracker."

"Alls well that ends well, I guess. Did they give you a good bunkie to room with after I left?"

"Yeah, B.J. Hunnicutt. Despite his earnest nature and cheesy moustache, we got along okay. He picked up where you left off in the lifesaver department."

"Sounds like a stand-up guy."

"He is. Great surgeon, great sense of humor and was as faithful as a puppy dog to his wife."

"Well, everyone's gotta have a character flaw or two. Give the guy a break."

Noticing their glasses were empty once again, Trapper poured them another one. After taking a sip, Hawkeye turned away from Trapper, looking around the dank, gray basement.

After a couple of minutes of silence, Trapper spoke up.

"What's the matter, Hawk? You've gone silent on me again."

"Well, you still haven't made amends."

"What are you talking about?"

"You never said goodbye!"

Trapper couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Are you still all hung up about that? Jeez Hawk, that was two years ago. You'd think that with being happy to be home from Korea, you would have forgotten about all that."

"Quite the contrary, mon ami - now that I don't have to deal with the daily distractions of Korea, I have plenty of time to think."

"You're not gonna let go of this, are you?"

Hawkeye shook his head, grinning as he did so.

Trapper rolled his eyes. "Alright, here goes - Hawkeye, it was nice drinking and chasing nurses with you. If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't change a thing - except maybe do it somewhere other than in a war zone. Is that what you wanna hear?"

Hawkeye appeared unmoved, but after a half-minute or so passed, he broke into a smile.

"Well, you're no Robert Frost, but that'll do."

They embraced again. After a long hug, they returned to the couch.

Trapper was relieved to have Hawkeye off his back.

"Listen pal, I got enough to deal with between being Chief Surgeon at Boston General and my wife and kids! How's your drink?"

Hawkeye, polishing off his martini, smiled his satisfaction.

"Finest kind."


The End