"Your hair finally suits you Annie, it's a beautiful shade of pink." BJ laughed.

"No thanks to Hawkeye!" 'Hawkeye the Vengeful' had decided to get me back and I woke up with bright red hair. The food dye had faded and was now a soft pink colour.

"I'm bored." BJ yawned. We'd had no patients or mail for nearly two weeks and boredom was in its advanced stages.

"Bored, bored, bored, bored!" I agreed drumming on the table.

"Well Anne-girl, shall we find something to stave off your boredom?" BJ asked, rising from his seat.

"Excellent idea, what do you suggest Beej?" I joined him as he held the door open for me. We left the Mess Tent and wandered aimlessly across the compound.

"How about seeing if Hawkeye's had a good de-tox?"

"Okay." I agreed, Hawkeye had tried to drown his boredom and would probably wake hungover. From the Swamp, a poor medley of Glen Miller songs was audible.

"Dracula has risen from his coffin." Hawkeye sat up, still humming swing tunes to himself.

"Morning Hawkeye!" I trilled cheerfully, and watched as he flinched from the noise.

"Good morning sunshine! It's a beautiful day out!" BJ called, winking at me as Hawkeye grabbed his throbbing temples.

"There's no need to shout!" Hawkeye shouted and then held his aching head as his own voice caused extreme pain to shoot through it.

"Are these my pants?" Hawkeye held up a well-worn sock.

"No that's my sock," BJ wrinkled his nose at the smell and threw it in the corner.

"What about this?" He handed me my camouflage shorts. They had been Margie's but had eventually come my way. Why they were in the Swamp was anyone's guess.

"That's mine. Here's your pants, they go on your legs." I dragged the wrinkled fatigues out from under the bunk.

"I see now, like this." He'd got his boots on already and was struggling to pull his pants over them. I knelt down and tried to help him but he fought me off.

"If you cannot cease being so familiar with me, I shall be forced to call the MP's" I sat back on my heels, and held both hands up in the air.

"Fine! Work it out yourself!" He leant forward and tried to pull the hem of his pants over his boots. He leant further forward, pulling hopelessly at his trousers, when he lost his balance, tipping over and breaking his fall on me.

I began giggling helplessly at Hawkeye's stunned face. BJ had flopped on his bunk, laughing uproariously. Charles breezed in, made an unfriendly comment and left.

"Okay oh drunken friend of mine, let's get you up." BJ had taken Hawkeye by his arm and was trying to lift him off me. Once I had enough room, I brought my hands up and pushed against his chest. Hawkeye struggled to his knees and then to his feet.

"Thanks BJ. Hawkeye, let's get you dressed and . . ." Hawkeye overbalanced and fell over his bunk. I got to my feet, wincing slightly as my well- crushed ankle objected to weight. BJ and I sat Hawkeye up, studying him thoughtfully.

"He can't sleep it off." BJ said, we'd stand little chance of getting Hawkeye back to sleep as, like a 2-year-old, he was just plain overexcited.

"Who's the loving daddy with the beautiful eyes?" Hawkeye sang off-key, trying to kiss me as I fought him off.

"You are my darling. How soon do we need him sober?" I asked, hoping it wasn't urgent.

"Don't keep me waiting when I'm in mood!" Hawkeye sang over BJ's reply.

"ATTENTION! ALL SENIOR STAFF REPORT TO COLONEL POTTER'S OFFICE ASAP!" The feedback had Hawkeye clutching his head painfully.

"Did that answer your question okay?" BJ chuckled. I stood up, a small idea forming.

"Hawkeye, we're going to have a shower." I said, winking at BJ.

"Anne's right, let's go!" BJ dragged Hawkeye to his feet and I caught his other arm, Hawkeye was feeling rather sorry for himself now and leant on us heavily. We led him to the showers. Father Mulcahy was just leaving.

"Father, would you please tell Potter we'll be late, Hawkeye just needs two minutes R&R."

"Regret and Recovery." BJ supplied.

"Yes of course my child." Mulcahy left as BJ and I shoved Hawkeye fully clothed into the shower. BJ yanked the chain. Cold water flowed onto Hawkeye.

"Come on in the water's lovely!" Hawkeye pulled me into the shower. I drew back, but the front of my shirt was soaked. BJ rescued me, but got drenched in the process.

"Anne, let's go, Hawkeye meeting in the CO's office, get there once you can walk."

"Yes oh tall and bossy one." Hawkeye mumbled, standing with his face turned up to the spray as BJ and I left the tent.

"Honnicut, Pierce, it seems you came from the shower as well!" The Colonel chuckled as BJ and I entered his office, dripping wet. Margaret, Charles and Klinger were already there, as was Father Mulcahy who looked wet also.

"Sorry we're late Colonel."

"Never mind, park your carcasses, and we'll have a drink before Pierce arrives." The Colonel poured us all a drink, except the Father.

"Ten hut!" Everyone except BJ jumped up, saluting. BJ didn't salute because like Hawkeye; he'd only salute those he truly respected and I had received BJ's only salute.

Hawkeye fell through the doors, laughing at the sight of us standing to attention, waiting for someone like General Mitchell to enter. BJ jumped to a snappy salute.

"Okay Pierce; since you're so full of good humour, you're just what we need." Potter said, realising Hawkeye too, was soaked. A small puddle of water formed at his feet.

"As you know troops, morale's been lower than a setting sun lately and it's high time we got off our seats and did something about it!" Hawkeye burst into applause.

"That's an excellent idea Colonel, would you like me to hot up my sermons a little?" We knew it only meant an extra hymn or psalm, but Mulcahy was trying his best.

"That'd be much appreciated padre, we need to arrange, something, anything to keep the outfit's morale higher." Hawkeye cheered loudly as BJ shushed him hopelessly.

"We could have a fancy-dress party." Hawkeye applauded again.

"Margaret's right, we have plenty of costumes from the Halloween party." I added.

"Major you've hit on a dandy idea! All in favour?" Hawkeye burst into applause, Mulcahy, Margaret, BJ, Potter and I raised our hands. Charles looked disapproving.

"It seems we've come to a decision, troops, you're on your own, but I want to hear of a mighty fine shindig planned for the night after tomorrow! Dismissed!" We left, ideas forming in our minds.

"May I have this dance?" 'Superman' queried, I 'swooned' into our WWI cavalry Colonel's arms.

"I've never danced with a superhero before." I blushed once I'd 'recovered'. 'Superman' led me onto the dance floor despite my protests.

"You look great tonight, where'd you get the outfit?" I was Shirley Temple, pink hair or no.

"Klinger's collection, he owed me from a favour I did him." 'Superman' really BJ laughed.

"I should have guessed." He twirled me and we crashed into 'Groucho Marx' aka Hawkeye. We swapped partners, so I was dancing with Groucho and Superman was dancing with Joan of Arc, Margaret.

The night had started simply with a bit of dancing, but Margaret and I were planning to sing later on and BJ had something up his sleeve as we discovered when the song ended.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Ladies and Gentlemen, Anne help!" BJ called desperately.

"Oy! Shush up and listen to BJ!" People found seats around the Rec Tent.

"Thanks Anne. We're going to have Hawkeye and Annie impressions! The couple themselves will be our judges and will decide which Hawkeye and which Anne receives the candy bar prizes!" A round of applause burst out and Hawkeye pulled me onto his lap.

"I'll try!" Father Mulcahy stood up and removed his hat. "Morning Father! How are you today?" He gave a poor, but perky imitation of the way I had greeted him that morning.

"Annie, my sexy little Captain, I love you." Colonel Potter tried to imitate Hawkeye.

"What in the name of all things unholy!" Margie gave an amusing and accurate imitation of my saying that I came up with whenever things were at their worst.

"I would beat a drum, an egg, a rug, but I would never beat a woman!" Igor's indignant impression of Hawkeye earned an extra clap.

"Ben dearest, I love you very much." Angie's voice was soft and dreamy as mine was whenever I talked like that. She was by far the best I'd seen.

"I'm Hawkeye the Vengeful and I never allow myself to be made to look stupid!" Klinger proclaimed. He and Angie were the best so far.

Margaret sat on BJ's lap, her arms about him the way I would hold Hawkeye. BJ's hands playing with Margaret's hair, the way Hawkeye was as I sat on his lap, watching them.

"Annie, you're so incredibly beautiful," BJ had cupped Margaret's chin in his hand and made his voice deeper and softer, sounding rather like Hawkeye.

"Oh Ben darling, you make me blush." Margaret looked down like I always did and as Hawkeye always would, BJ lifted Margaret's chin. It was scarily realistic, but they had excellent role models as Hawkeye and I were similarly occupied.

The room burst into applause, and BJ and Margaret stood up, Hawkeye and I joined them.

"That was fabulous! Margaret, BJ you planned that didn't you?" I hugged my friends.

"No!" BJ was a terrible liar and burst into laughter, blushing to the tips of his ears.

"Well in that case, I'm going to Angie the best Annie!" Hawkeye declared, throwing a candy bar at the blushing winner.

"And my pink hair is a result of 'Hawkeye the Vengeful' so I think I'll give it to Klinger for his fabulous imitation!" We had a round of applause and the night continued merrily.

"Well Dreamboat, are you ever going to sing?" Hawkeye asked me, his 'Groucho' was poor tonight and he'd changed back into his fatigues along with the rest of us.

"You've seen Honeymoon haven't you?" I laughed at the sickly-sweet term of endearment.

"Huh?"

"Honeymoon, 47 or 48 film, Shirley Temple's comeback, she gets called Dreamboat."

"Oh, that's where I got it. Just don't tell me I need to fall off a diving board for you to realise you love me." Hawkeye remembered suddenly.

"Of course not, now, I guess I'll sing you a number now, any requests?"

"You've always done I've Got You so beautifully." Hawkeye suggested.

"Okay, well I'll talk to our Father and see." I did that and in a few minutes I was singing a soulful version of I've Got You Under My Skin to an enraptured audience.

"I've got you, under my skin!" I finished on a high note, literally and the camp went wild. I was the one who sang the softer, delicate songs, while Margaret sang songs that needed to be 'belted' out. She stood up and swung into a rousing medley of various songs. The camp went wild again and then we resumed dancing.

Margaret, Caitlin and I were whispering conspiratorially in a corner when Hawkeye, BJ and Colonel Potter accosted us, demanding dances. We submitted quietly, but after the song, we returned to chatting. We stood up and called for silence before starting in on 'Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy' and our Andrews Sisters type performance brought the house down.

We sang a few more songs, danced a few more dances, held a Margaret impressions contest which I won with my best cold glare and screaming fit, and then, spirits considerably lifted, we decided to call it a night.

Hawkeye and I were finishing with a private meeting in Supply, when I sat up, body tensed.

"Annie, what?" Hawkeye took me in his arms.

"Wounded!" An ambulance came into the compound honking its horn. Hawkeye looked confused, but grabbed his shirt and pants, dragging them on as he went.

"Hey Anne, how'd you know?" He called after me.

"I just did!" I replied. It was true, I had no real idea, I just knew.

"What have we got here?" Hawkeye looked at the patient I was helping into triage, which the nurses effectively ran.

"A nice 1938 model, hardly used, owner was a sweet old lady who only took him out on Sundays, minor damage, mostly just paintwork. He can wait." I replied sickeningly perkily.

So I see, just take a seat Private, we'll have you fixed up by someone soon as we can." Hawkeye lifted the pad to inspect the largely superficial wound.

"Anne!" BJ's voice rang out from OR, several yards away and if he was yelling I figured it was serious. I called a reply before dashing in to scrub quickly.

"What Beej?" And not waiting for his answer, but mentally assessing what I saw, I picked up an instrument and began helping BJ before he'd even explained the situation.

"Well Done Anne, you handled it well." BJ smiled, as the patient was carried out.

"Thanks, great party wasn't it?"

"It was; we needed something to un-bore us." The rest of the OR added their approval.

"But the minute we were really having fun, the wounded came back." Hawkeye moaned.

"Oh Hawkeye, it's just the way things are! Ce`st la vie!" I replied.

"If it wasn't so morbid, I'd say I'd even be glad to be back in here." BJ said.

We had relaxed and boosted our morale considerably, to such an extent, not even a 47-hour shift could dampen our spirits.