CRAB APPLE COVE, MAINE

HAWKEYE PIERCE, MD, CIVILIAN


Crabapple Cove is exactly the way I remember it. My Dad is just the way I remember him, give or take a few gray hairs. I'd like to pretend that I'm just the way I was when I left, but I've never liked to lie.

Of course, I guess coming back half crazy is better than not returning at all.

The worst part of getting back was facing Tommy's parents. Mrs. Gillis is probably the closest thing I've had to a mom since mine, well you know. (Whoever "you" might be)

I can't very well go up to them and say, "Howdy, Gillis family! I watched your son die, he was right there in front of me, on my operating table, even. So, How have you been holding up?"

At least they don't blame me for anything. I didn't shoot him, the North Koreans, or Chinese, or whoever the damned enemy we were fighting did. They don't understand though. I can't not blame myself, it isn't possible for me as a doctor or a person.

I'm getting worked up again. Dad suggested I give Sidney a call, I didn't. I just want everyone to think I'm fine. I just might be. .almost.

No one would leave me alone the first few days, "Was it true Tommy was right there in front of you?" "Did you shoot anybody?" "Over there fighting those reds, ah Hawk?" So, I told them what Henry told me-

There are two rules in war. Rule number one is that young men die, and rule number two is that doctors can't change rule number one.

It's funny Henry said that, it was only a month or two before his plane was shot down.

All that (that being Korea, South Korea or whatever the hell I'm supposed to call it) just seems like a dream now. It's like sitting on the porch in the morning, you can barely smell the ocean, the breeze wafting over the cove, but you know it's there. Every so often you'll catch a gentle reminder of it, but it will never quite come into focus, not until you're right there, facing it.

I do sit out on the porch a lot in the mornings, it's become sort of a ritual, wake up, grab some coffee, go out and sit. I used to love sleeping late, but I've begun waking up around 5:00 and going out.

((Through the early morning fog I see.Visions of things to be.))

I've written B.J a couple times, Dad (and Peggy Hunnicutt too, from what Beej has told me) complained we were running up the phone bill, so we've stuck to letters. He suggested trying to track down Margaret (am I really that obvious?) and writing her, but know one has heard anything from her, at least not that I know of, and I don't think I could even begin to write her something that didn't include, "MARRY ME MARGARET, I LOVE YOU!" I'd almost like to see her face if I did do that. She would probably think it was a joke of course, I dug my own grave with Trapper, playing all those jokes on her and Frank. Who would have thought I'd fall for her? Me, the world famous Hawkeye Pierce looking for something besides a notch in my bedpost, and with "Hotlips" Houlihan, no less!

Speaking of Trapper, I have talked to him. We ran into each other at a seminar in Boston. (I found him because he was snoring louder than anyone else) It turns out Louise wasn't as oblivious as he thought, he sees his daughters every-other weekend. I wish I had a camera when I told him about Frank getting promoted and transferred to Indiana. He looked like he had been slapped with a ferret (bad pun intended, of course)

I can't help wondering what ol' Ferret Face has been up to. He's probably back with his private practice and two cars, getting called "The Lipless Wonder" behind his back by the neighbors.
There isn't much else to think about, every now and then I have to let my mind wander back to the present during these horribly boring staff meetings.

What I wouldn't give for a CO's (or boss', as the case may be) office with a good old liquor cabinet, Radar or Klinger (in his Scarlet O'Hara ensemble, of course) scurrying around, a beautiful and talented blonde nurse, preferably Margaret, at my side, and a guy in a cheesy mustache missing his wife right about now.

Then again, I couldn't ship them all up here to Maine, just for old times' sake.

But on the other hand, I know one of the above options (besides the liquor cabinet- I already have the Still Jr.) that might be able to make it.