Somewhere between Battalion A and the 4077th

Hawkeye sighed with relief as he drove his jeep back towards the 4077th. AS much as he hated life at a M*A*S*H unit, he hated life at an aid station even worse. Shells, artillery fire, snipers were all things that he could do without.

He smiled at himself when he thought of how scared this last trip had made him. It was the first time he had been frightened into updating his Will. He couldn't help but grin when he thought of what Charles' reaction would be if he ever did receive his old beat-up bathrobe or Margaret if she was ever handed his old Groucho nose and glasses.

The thought of his Will made him think again about what he wanted to give to BJ. Nothing he had seemed appropriate. What do you give a guy who has been your strength, your comforter, your closest companion during the most horrible period of your entire life?

A thought suddenly struck him and he pulled his jeep over to the side of the road. Ducking under some bushes he pulled out his note pad and pen and a flashlight and quickly began to write a letter to his best friend.

Klinger moaned in annoyance as the phone began to jingle. Pulling himself off his cot he stumbled sleepily towards it.

"M*A*S*H 40 something, something." He yawned into the phone. "What, I can hardly hear you?…Yeah we have a doctor named Pierce here…What? No, he's up at Battalion A helping out…Colonel Potter? He's asleep, it is after all 2:30 in the morning…Okay, hold your horses I'll get him." He set the phone down, grabbed his robe and stumbled tiredly across the compound to Colonel Potter's tent. Knocking lightly on the door he called out to his sleeping commanding officer.

"What is it?" Potter's groggy voice demanded through the door.

"Telephone call, sir." Klinger told him, bracing himself for an explosion.

"At this hour?" The tired CO complained.

"Yes, sir." Klinger yawned again. "Sorry to bother you, Colonel but the man said that it was very urgent. Something about Captain Pierce."

"I wonder what that goofball's gotten himself into now." Potter remarked as he exited his tent still pulling on his robe.

The pair walked back to the main office in silence, neither one awake enough to feel like talking. Once inside Potter grabbed the phone and demanded with great annoyance. "What the problem? This better be good…Can you speak up I can hardly hear you?…That's right…Captain Benjamin Franklin Pierce…What? No he's not here, he's been helping at an aid station the last couple of days…Say that again!…Oh, dear Lord!" He sunk down into Klinger's chair, his face turning a ghostly shade of white. "Are you sure, Major?…I said are you sure?…No, that sounds like him." Potter swallowed hard as he fought against the tears that were coming. "Listen, could you do us a favor, could you bring him here first so that we can say our 'good-byes'.  He was very special to all of us…That's right bring him here! Thank you, Major. Goodbye." He hung up the phone and then sat starring at it unseeingly for a few minutes.

"Is everything okay, Colonel?" Klinger finally asked, fear rising into his heart. "Is Captain Pierce in trouble for something?"

Potter sniffed and quickly brushed the tears from his eyes. Ignoring the question he instead instructed his company clerk to round up his officers. "I want BJ, Winchester, Margaret and Father Mulcahy in my office immediately. You're to be there too."

"What's the problem sir?" Klinger pressed, his eyes widening as the fear he was feeling increased. "Is Hawkeye alright?"

"You'll find out when the rest get here." Potter told him. "Now go get them."

"Yes, sir." Klinger obeyed. As Potter moved into his office Klinger shot his one more bewildered look before doing as bidden.

"What's this all about, Colonel?" Margaret asked as she and the others entered Potter's office a few minutes later.

"Please, have a seat all of you." Potter instructed gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. They all quickly complied, never taking their anxious eyes off their leader's sorrowful face. Clearing his throat Potter began to speak, his tone heavy with emotion. "I just received word a few minutes ago that one of our jeeps hit a land mine a few miles down the road. They figure the drive was trying to avoid a North Korean patrol that was coming down the road.

"Dear Lord, is the driver okay?" Father Mulcahy asked with great concern.

"Unfortunately he isn't." Potter replied sadly. "When the mine went off it sent him flying a few feet through the air. The medic that examined him figured he broke his neck on landing."

Fear suddenly welled up in BJ's heart. Swallowing hard he asked the question that he dreaded an answer to. "Was it Hawkeye, Colonel?"

Potter looked at the other man for a moment, tears welling up in his own eyes. With a voice barely about a whisper and full of deep sorrow and loss he confirmed the other man's fears. "Yes it was."

The entire company remained silent for several minutes, trying to allow the shocking news to sink in. Finally Margaret repeated in a disbelieving whisper. "Hawkeye's dead." The moment the words were out of her mouth she felt her heart break within her and her whole world began to spin out of control. She hadn't told anyone in camp, not even Hawkeye, but for several months she had been deeply in love the unit's Chief Surgeon. He had become such a good friend to her over the last couple of years. He'd set himself up as her comforter, her protector, her funny bone. She had come to deeply appreciate the way that he used humor to try to lighten a trying situation. He had become the dearest friend that she had ever had and she had come to love him very much. And now he was gone. Ripped away from her by one of the cruelest parts of war, cheating her out of the opportunity of a loving, meaningful relationship with the one man she'd ever truly loved. Tears started rolling down her cheeks when she realized just how much that hated mine had stolen from her.

Beside her Hawkeye's equally devastated bestfriend had taken a decidedly different reaction to the news of his friend's death. "It's not fair!" An enraged BJ screamed as he jumped out of his chair and grabbed some files from Potter's desk and threw them against the wall. Next he grabbed a half-full bottle of scotch that the Colonel had been drinking from before they came in and threw that against the wall, again screaming. "It's not fair! Why him? Why did it have to be him?!" Sobbing uncontrollably he sank to his knees and hunched over, burying his face in his hands. His friends all knelt down beside him and put their arms around him, trying to offer a measure of comfort. "Why him?" BJ continued to sob, his shoulders shaking with grief. "He was the greatest friend I've ever had! Why did he have to be the one!"

"I don't know, son." Potter commented, tears rolling down his own face. "I really don't know."

The group stayed huddled together, each dealing with their grief in their own way. Even Charles' eyes were suspiciously moist, even though he'd never admit it. After a few minutes the chaplain commented on something that was weighing on his mind.

"Colonel, we should give some thought to a memorial service. After all Hawkeye has been an important part of this unit for a long time."

"I know, padre." The Colonel agreed sadly. "I've already asked the unit that found him to bring Hawkeye here before notifying Graves Registration so that we can say our farewells."

"What about a eulogy?" The chaplain asked, glancing at the very distraught BJ who was now crying on Margaret's shoulder.

To every one's surprise BJ announced, his tone shaky. "I want to do it."

"Are you sure you're up to it, son?" Potter asked gently, knowing inwardly that BJ was the perfect man for the job.

BJ nodded his head in confirmation. "Hawk was my best friend. I owe him that much."

"Very well." Potter nodded. "We'll set the memorial service for four o'clock this afternoon. That should give enough time for everything to be settled."

"Very good, Colonel." They all mumbled, each becoming lost in his own thoughts.

"I suggest we all go back to our quarters and try to get a little shut eye." Their CO commented, knowing it was a pointless suggestion, but figuring it was still a good one. "We have a very difficult day ahead of us."

"Yes, sir." They all mumbled and slowly shuffled out of his office and back to their own tents.

BJ and Charles stopped in the doorway of the 'Swamp' and looked at the empty bunk where their other tentmate slept. Neither one of them spoke or moved for ages, both lost in thoughts about the missing man. Finally BJ forced himself to look away and walk over to his side of the tent. Grabbing up a martini glass he poured himself a drink from the still and took a gulp. The next minute he threw the glass at the door of the 'Swamp' and picked up a chair and started smashing the still.