Chapter Text
MASH
Chapter 3
Red Scare
“It’s a Bloody Ronnie.” Hawkeye said triumphantly as he offered Speirs the best Bloody Mary that could be made in wartime Korea, which was hardly ‘good’. The vodka was worse than their gin, and possibly some captured diesel from the North Koreans. Tomato juice? Well, it was something red that came out of a can from the mess kitchen but it was probably ketchup cut with battery acid. Worcestershire sauce? No, it was soy sauce, soy sauce gone bad. There was ice though, they did have ice. All in all, it was the right color.
“It would be easier for you to tempt fate if you would just walk into enemy fire.” Dick said as Ron took one look at the Bloody Mary and puked again. He pointed to the moonshine still, Nix would want to know about the alcohol that did Ron in. “What kind of gin are you drinking?”
“Only one grade better than the gasoline, minus the lead.” BJ admitted.
“Army would have our heads if we took the lead away from their bullets.” Hawkeye scoffed.
“Awful?” Dick summed up.
“Does the trick.” Hawkeye said. “Want some?”
“No.” Dick sharply and looked at Ron who was absolutely miserable. Yeah, it did the trick, alright . “Don't you have an officer’s club?”
“With Sparky being so pretty and single, we thought it best to spare everyone the heartbreak, or broken neck, and just let him recover in here.” BJ said as Speirs puked again. He took the Bloody Mary away from Hawkeye, sniffed it and almost gagged himself. Maybe it was best to just set that outside, it was probably more of a biological weapon than a hangover cure.
“Except his complications , which required his prolonged stay in the hospital, aren't bad enough to require a hospital bed.” Dick stated as someone had put another cot in the tent so he could bunk with them while he was calling home. Very accommodating hostage takers, these two.
“Oh, overheard Colonel Potter when you were talking to the husband, did you?” Hawkeye snorted. Potter was pissed , and that was an understatement. Speirs had a reputation of being a vindictive asshole and he wanted him gone, ASAP.
“Hard not to.” Dick was even more impressed that Hawkeye shrugged off a dressing down like he did. He just rolled with it and rolled out of the office saying that Major Speirs was experiencing symptoms of a stomach bug . Dick was in awe of how brazen he was. He expected him to walk in with a helmet full of vomit as evidence next.
“Discharge paperwork gets lost.”. Hawkeye said. “There is a war on.”
“You have his staff worried he's dying.” Dick said and looked at Ron face down in the cot. “ I’m worried he’s dying.”
“And the folks back home worried he's a hostage.” BJ gave Hawk a look that said they were really pushing this thing too far.
“Which he is.” Hawkeye chirped, unwilling to give ground.
“I'm impressed with how far you'll go for your men, Major Winters.” BJ said, honestly as the Major finished making his bed.
“All the way to the altar, apparently.” Hawkeye added
Dick smiled. Lew would be dishing the innuendo back at Hawkeye with unfiltered delight and probably get them all thrown in jail or shot. God he missed him. Dick sat on the cot and looked over as Ron Speirs, of all people, looked like he was going to crawl into a foxhole and pray to die. “Ron is family. Easy Company was family and still is. We protect our own.”
“Long way from the last war, Major.” BJ said.
“Yeah.” Dick knew it, and the statement encompassed a lot . The last war was to save the world and this one was to claim territory. Not that he didn’t feel the spread of Communism needed to be stopped, but this was a territorial pissing match on both sides with Korea being the overall loser. The countryside looked like hell as he flew over it, all he could think of was ‘How do these people pick up and move on after this?’ and the answer was sorely ‘they don’t’. However, he was certain they needed Ron out there to fight it and win it so he needed to present his case. “But, maybe I should fill in some of his history beyond what Blithe knew. ”
“So his inspirational speech ?” BJ asked.
Dick looked at Ron who was purely exhausted from vomiting so much. “He means well. We were a bunch of twenty-somethings leading other men our age or younger. And we were the best of the best going in and coming out of it. Never been more proud of men I knew, or myself, in my life. We all were scared–of failure or death, but you wouldn’t have seen it in our actions. Incredible what we did, and we did it because we had each other and there was a job that needed to be done. Ron was more honest than anyone about it. Blithe was struggling, as any man should have been after jumping from a plane while being shot at and dropping in behind enemy lines in the worst war ever fought. I admire that he snapped out of it. He had a ticket out and he didn’t take it, I was going to send him back to England. I thought he was certifiably blind at that point. Instead he joined us and got wounded. Anyhow, you don’t survive looking forward to the end, you have to be present to stay alive and do what needs to be done. None of us expected to survive, we knew what we were signing up for. In the years that have passed, I think about those days a lot. At Brecourt Manor I have no idea how any of us survived. From Lipton climbing a tree, to Ron running by himself to take a gun, I witnessed something so brave for first time combat and yet completely insane. I was lucky to be beside the best men in the world for it. You do what you need to do. Ron was just more aware of the mindset he needed going in, I don’t know how many of us really dwelled on our ideology. He’s honest. And it helped. Blithe obviously carried it with him. It wasn’t exactly, my style.”
Ron snorted and smiled. Snorting made him smell the awful taste in his mouth and he regretted it immediately.
“And the POWs?” Hawkeye asked before anything got too far on the positivity campaign.
“That’s Ron for you. Doing what he knows needs to be done but not expecting others to do it when he can”. Dick said. He never asked if that was true because he never wanted to know. He had been scathing about Ron’s actions early on, he was great in battle but lost his humanity when it was convenient. Nix would rib him about his stupid high standards, but it seemed like a low bar to not shoot prisoners. However, he was more than aware that they, as paratroopers, dropped behind lines where they would not be held captive either. In fact, more than a few of the men told horror stories about what happened to paratroopers who got hung up in trees or caught–--brutal stories. And there had been orders to not take prisoners. Dick knew he couldn’t have stomached giving those orders so part of him was glad Ron could do it himself. He hated that he felt that way. “Like running over the side of a trench alone to capture a gun at Brecourt Manor. Like running through Foy twice . Swimming across a river to get intel and being shot in the ass. He never asked anyone to do something he wouldn't do himself, and that would be how I classify it. On that day of days, we all did what had to be done. You can’t judge him if you weren’t there beside him. ”
“What about his sergeant?”
“I wasn’t there. I wasn’t his CO. I know no charges were brought. If you want details, you have to let him sober up. Like I said, Ron is honest about his actions.” Dick had also avoided asking about that one . Drunk or not, shooting one of your own men? The rumors said the guy raised his weapon first, and he could see the reaction being to defend yourself, but he had avoided asking. So much about Ron had revolved around ‘I don’t want to know’ except for whatever he had going on with Lip. He couldn’t let this conversation jade him through. “He’s the best thing that happened to Easy Company though, he was with them longer than I was. He saved them when I couldn’t. I firmly believe that.”
“I was just in the right place at the right time.” Ron mumbled.
“I believe God puts people in your path for a reason.” Dick replied, and he did firmly believe that. The war was hell, but the people he had beside him were a godsend. “Right now my path has taken me to Korea, and I’m faced with convincing you two to release your prisoner.”
“You’re losing this, Hawk.” BJ said and sipped his margarita. “Like the Major says, we weren’t there, we can’t judge. We were at home. ”
“I was there for that thing he did that thing with the Mercedes.” Dick offered, hoping to change the mood to something more positive while he had one surgeon leaning towards his side.
“Oh, do tell.” BJ lifted his eyebrows.
“Morituri te salutant.” Ron mumbled. “That was the best car.”
“You didn't have to shoot it and drive it off a cliff.” Dick said with a smirk. God, those were the good days. They were finally alive again after years of preparing and being at war.
“Yeah, I did.” Ron said.
“We had some differences of opinion on how to handle the newly acquired Nazi Motor pool.” Dick explained, “One Sergeant shot Hitler’s car and drained the radiator before surrendering it. Ron, had a Mercedes our Lieutenant Colonel ordered him to give to him, so he tested how bullet-proof it was by shooting it and then how indestructible it was by sending it off a cliff.”
Ron giggled. “f*ck Strayer.”
“Yeah, well, I had to deal with the repercussions of both you and Tab being possessive about your spoils of war.” Dick reminded him.
“Pay me back, steal some sh*t here and I’ll deal with the headache.” Ron mumbled. “Start with aspirin.”
“Oh, I will.” Dick said and moved a pitcher of water closer to Ron so he’d have something to put into his system that might not exit his body so violently. He looked over at Hunnicutt who seemed to be more inclined to produce medicine that wasn’t going to incapacitate Ron. He waved him off and mouthed ‘Already gave him something’.
“Liar.” Ron mumbled to Dick.
“Going to start with your battalion.” Dick teased.
“I just gave it to you, asshole.”
“Yeah, about that.” Dick said and realized his briefing was going to have to wait as Ron puked again. He looked to the doctors, concerned. “Is he going to be okay?”
“I had to skip his anti vomit meds so this crap could leave his system faster.” BJ apologized.
“sh*t is worse coming up than going down.” Ron moaned and felt awful; disgusting and exhausted. God, he was never drinking again.
“I may have given him something to help it come up.” Hawkeye said.
“How are you rationalizing what you’re doing to him?” Dick asked because he had overheard Potter yelling at Hawkeye and noted that at one time they thought they had to give Ron an appendectomy. “Like the convenience of taking out his appendix when you obviously were trying to keep him off the line.”
“They bicker like an old married couple.” Ron huffed and rolled over, arm going numb from laying on it and hoping a change of position would help. It didn’t. He forgot he had a fresh hole in his ass. f*cking hell. “Over their patient, no less. Over their patient who has a high metabolism and high pain tolerance so he wasn’t really out of it when they were talking about stealing his appendix when he was face down in the cot healing from an ass injury.”
Dick could see the two doctors share a look, and Dick knew that look. These two didn’t agree over the lengths they’d go to follow through on this weird stand they were taking. Well, it looked like he wasn’t getting any sleep tonight either. He wasn’t losing body parts over here, he promised Lew. “Makes me worry about the hospitality here.”
“Remember…” Ron paused, trying to keep everything down and knowing his stomach was empty already but still not done finding things to expel. “Remember when the medics gave Sobol a new scar during training and made it look like they stole his appendix?”
Dick blinked. Oh, hell, he forgot about that . And he looked at the doctors who were both intrigued. “Yeah I do.”
“I am not comparing scars with Sobol.” Ron said, somehow managing to sound stern and intimidating. “So I took action. Sorry I scared the kid with the teddy bear. I didn't realize he was the one stealing the Jeep. I admire that.”
“Piece by piece.” BJ said. Radar O’ Reilly, radio tech, was determined to send home an entire Jeep via the army mail and was accomplishing it, one piece at a time.
“Good kid.” Ron mumbled.
“I’ve changed my mind.” Dick stood up. “I’m taking him home now, I don’t think we’re safe in your care and I don’t want to wake up tomorrow missing organs either.”
“Hey.” Hawkeye stood up and felt BJ’s glare that said he was with the Major on this one. He was Speirs’s surgeon and would sign those papers. “We had three days non stop of casualties coming in after an offensive to take a piece of sh*t land that keeps changing hands with no end in sight. Then it ends, finally, and in comes this guy with his arm slung around Sergeant Blithe like he just needed a band-aide and was going back out there to do it all again. So yeah, if he lost a little piece of himself that he doesn’t need, it was a small price to pay for some respite. He didn’t, by the way, his surgeon said it was a perfectly healthy appendix and could stay where it was at.”
“I have no idea what has been going on, Captain.” Dick said, voice becoming more authoritative as he was done conversing. Accusations like that would not stand. “But Speirs has never thrown away men, he’s led them. We had ample opportunity during the war to throw away lives just to satisfy our commanders' need to grab a little more glory before the curtain drew on the ETO. We lost men to some of the dumbest reasons in peace . I know he felt those losses just as much as I did, some even more, and I refuse to believe any different. So what intel do you have that tells you different?”
“Yeah, Hawk.” BJ said and leaned forward. “Why him ?”
“Seventy-two hours of men being wheeled in and wheeled out. Talk of prisoners being shot, proudly. Talk about how this guy made a reputation for himself doing it. Yeah, hell of a way to lead.” Hawkeye stood firm.
“I did shoot a few. Needed intel. Interrogated them.” Ron said and tried to sit up, his stomach lurched and he just laid back down in exhaustion.
“See?” Hawkeye said.
“Dick doesn’t understand. He took ammo from the guy who wanted to shoot people and I was the one who handed the same guy ammo and intel on where to find a Nazi camp commandant. We are not the same in that respect.” Ron said. “So leave his appendix alone, he’s one of the good ones.”
“I’m sorry, but you’re a menace.” Hawk snapped back.
“I’m sorry, but he’s a soldier .” Dick found his commanding voice and it silenced the surgeon. He shook his head. “I’m taking him home. Doctor Hunnicutt, can you sign his release?”
“I will.”
“Goddammit, BJ.”
“Hawk, this went on long enough. Maybe you should be asking why you’re taking all of this out on him.”
It took a good day for Ron to win the battle with his hangover and get out of bed. Once he did, the change was incredible. He went from dying on a cot to sitting in the sun, sporting a pair of Aviator sunglasses Nix was fond of, and sipping a drink like he was on vacation. Dick knew better, knew this was a way to put everyone at ease instead of brandishing a gun and barking orders. “Been looking all over for you, I was sure when your cot was empty they just buried you out back.”
Ron snorted. Dick had been milling about camp, talking with people and being himself and winning over everyone. “Going to have to catch me first.”
“Ron, what the hell is going on?” Dick asked as sat down in a lawn chair beside Ron who was watching North Korea’s worst pilot attempt to bomb a target he already overshot. The staff of the 4077 was turned out in force, wearing their best bathrobes, dresses and fatigues and betting on the outcome. This place was insane and it didn’t get any better when he made the rounds getting to know everyone.
Ron sipped an ice tea which had been made with some local herbs and a pair of stockings and smiled at him. For the last two hours he had managed to retain what he put into his stomach and knew he needed to replenish fluids or end up with legitimate reasons to be hospitalized. The tea tasted like dirt, but that was better than regurgitated gin. “They were dragging you back in, whether you liked it or not, so I made the move first. Sink would have used you like he did at the end of the war. He’s a Major General now, in command of the 7th, looking for another star. Dike’s here. Lieutenant Colonel if you’d believe it, apparently still someone’s favorite. Blithe, Burr Smith, Shames. All here f*ck, Sobol’s here too. He’s the one I didn’t want you getting nabbed by. Owe you that much.”
“I don’t know, Ron, we’re both pretty well surrounded by rank around here.” Dick observed. The two men who actually saw combat seemed to be the lowest ranking officers around. But that was the army for you. Actually that was Easy Company because they all refused to move up and leave each other.
Ron rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and you gave me sh*t for promoting Lip to second Lieutenant at the end of the war so he could get better benefits. Hell if you would have just taken a damned promotion I could have given him Easy and a pair of bars.”
Dick smiled at him, he would have managed it too. Lip would have reported for duty one morning and Ron would have gotten handsy, like he always did, pin his own Captain’s bars on him and told him to stop f*cking around in CP and get back to the field and take his company back. Too vivid an image for something that never happened. Maybe in another universe. “Still feeling a little manipulated, Ron.”
“And this is your apology.” Ron said and handed him a betting slip. He borrowed a pair of binoculars he wasn’t going to return in order to survey the ammo dump the Korean pilot was attempting to hit and had seen the pockmarked land around it that was evidence of his previous failed attempts. The guy had an issue hitting low and to the left, probably because he was using one hand to drop the bomb and the other to fly, so Ron mentally calculated the probability of a similar hit and placed his bets accordingly. Dick would win something. “Sort of.”
Dick watched the plane circle as the surgeons and nurses around them cheered, ‘Five O’ Clock Charlie’ was getting ready to drop his bomb, about a half mile away from the camp. “I suppose I deserve to be manipulated if I didn’t have enough faith in you to know you wouldn’t be taken hostage by anyone or get so drunk you’d put Lip at risk.”
“Hope he’s as understanding.” Ron said and wasn’t really that worried. He’d get yelled at and he was looking forward to it.
“He’s being dragged all over Pennsylvania by Lew shopping for cows, I’m sure he’s more concerned by that .”
Ron leaned forward to get closer, lowering his voice. “I was going to do this myself, but I’m worried someone is going to steal my command while I’m working. My staff has paperwork experience, no combat. They don’t understand now to just ‘Go and Do’ and make it up on the way. Right now I’m trying to locate a POW camp, getting shot in the ass wasn’t part of the deal, but I made it work. I volunteered to go in with the Infantry unit they sent to take that hill, and it was a f*cking slaughter. I get why Pierce is pissed, I was pissed. What could I do but try and salvage it but orders were orders and orders were ‘this is the hill you die on’. So I tried to salvage this mess too.”
“By calling me in?” Dick asked, not really liking what he was hearing about operations around here.
“Yeah, they forced my hand on that one. Let the surgeons think they’re strategists, I’ve been a few steps ahead the entire time.”
“Been getting drunk to stay here?” Dick laughed. Well he didn’t see that coming.
“Learned that from your husband.” Ron winked. “But I wasn’t going to get demoted to do it.”
“Without a doubt.” Dick patted his knee. “Sorry I doubted you.”
“Sorry you’re here.” Ron said. “But rather you run my battalion than get dropped into f*cking China because Sink is chasing Lieutenant General or someone is throwing bodies at the enemy to just buy a promotion with their blood.”
“So, if you’re here then you think you’re close to where this camp is?” Dick asked.
“They move it. I’ve been here too long to think any intel I had is old. They’re force marching my guys so I think I can track the movements well enough. Blithe got out of here and picked the scent back up, I’m sure of it. So I just need to go AWOL from the hospital and find him.”
“ Albert Blithe .” Dick shook his head. Talk about a ghost from the past.
“We all thought he was dead. I wrote him when he got shot, with his injuries he wasn’t able to sit up and read so the letter just got lost. I didn’t get a reply so I stopped, we had other casualties and concerns by then and he wasn’t even from my company. Just some kid I met in the woods when I was out taking a piss and he followed me like a puppy. Well, he’s not dead and turns out he's a hell of a soldier and gives you and me credit for that.”
“That’s the plan?” Dick asked. “I go back to CP, you go AWOL from the hospital?”
“Going AWOL from the hospital adds to my reputation and gives me freedom to do sh*t alone. I go back to CP, I’m tied to it and can’t work. Yeah yeah, Major and all that sh*t, but you know better than anyone what it feels to be out of reach of the field. What needs to be done isn’t something I can just slip off and do anymore like I used to in the ETO or that I want any of my men being asked to do. When we get these men back, I need to get them to a hospital and now I know which one I want to use. One where the officers don’t mind breaking the rules and I can probably get them to meet me half-way.”
“So Blithe, telling them stories…”
“Told him to have fun. Not sure he knows how . He acted like he was on stage at some evangelist meeting talking about how he was saved by the hand of God and then the holy spirit came down and gave him the wisdom he needed to do God’s work. Even the priest here was moved by it and I thought it was grounds to get struck by lightning. Whatever he said, fired up the surgeons. Next thing I knew I was in and out of consciousness and only got loose because they couldn't keep hitting me with drugs when they were in surgery. Then they came in and argued over my appendix like it was the wishbone in a turkey. Sorry I scared that kid with the radio though, but I saw the calendar and saw how long I was out and I needed to do something. Thought you’d call, scare them into releasing me. Worst case, you showed up. Prepared for both.” Ron shrugged and sat up as the Korean pilot dropped the bomb, by hand, out of his ancient airplane. He smiled. “Think that guy is local? By the way, you just won something.”
“Who? The pilot?” Dick asked as the bomb hit a small shrub and everyone applauded. He looked at his betting slip, he did win. Ron just gave him a winning ticket. With his luck, winnings were going to be cigarettes and Ron was just going to get the prize anyway.
“Yeah.” Ron said and watched the plane head home after an unsuccessful bombing attempt. “This guy’s been flying overhead so much and nobody cares, bet that extends to his own people too.”
“You fly now?” Dick asked, it wouldn’t surprise him.
“No, that's the other Major Speirs. But the hospital is full of people, bet one of them can.” Ron said and sipped his tea. “I need surveillance, I bet they have my guys marching in the open during daylight. Hoping they die by sunstroke or get shot by air support. The enemy attacks at night around here, it’s a different kind of war, Dick. Our first drop here we were trying to cut off 30,000 retreating North Koreans and rescue our POWs. It was incredible. In less than ten years we went from wearing recycled football helmet at jump training, to those f*cking leg bags in Normandy, to dropping howitzers, jeeps, trucks and trailers and men all at once. It was something .”
“And the prisoners?”
“Something we didn’t account for. We seized the town and roads but the prisoners were on a train hidden in a tunnel. All shot and killed as the enemy retreated.” Ron said and played with the straw in his drink, stirring up the undissolved sugar. “Not going to let that happen again.”
Dick frowned. “That means we need to steal a plane.”
“Yeah, you in?”
“No offense Ron, I still don’t want to be here so I doing some off-books recon mission is how I get sent home, I think it sounds great.”
“I don’t know, I think you could work that dress Klinger has on.” Ron said and waved at the man sporting a ball gown that looked like it was from Gone With The Wind, complete with parasol. The guy who made him this iced tea.
“What is his deal?” Dick wasn’t able to get a read on him and he felt like it was too rude to ask because the entire camp just accepted the man was going to work in a dress.
“Trying to get a Section 8. Weirdest sh*t, he’s trying to get sent home but does a damned good job and looks fabulous doing it.” Ron shrugged. “Everyone here is so off the charts wild, hates being here, but working their ass off. Couldn’t be any less military regulation, but probably the best unit on the ground here.”
“Yeah. I get that.”
“Colonel Potter will send us packing if he thinks we’re using his hospital for a base of operations.” Ron said and watched the old man go tend to his horse, an entirely different category of ‘can’t believe they’re getting away with this sh*t’. “Frank Burns, however, is a willing recruit and I plan to use him to his fullest.”
“Which is why you were drinking.”
“Had to, the guy has some of the worst ideas I’ve ever heard.” Ron said as the crowd dispersed and they needed to bring their lawn chairs back. “Anyhow, can you go find me a pilot?”
“Is this the work I’m going to do for you, Major Speirs?” Dick said dryly, but he was amused. This was not what he was expecting at all.
“I told them you heal people like Jesus, so get in recovery and work some miracles.” Ron winked. “I’ll see about getting my gear from Frank, he said he’s keeping it safe which makes me think it needs to be washed. I’ll tell him it’s time for some physical therapy, see if I can pack my sh*t around, blah blah.”
“What intel do you have from the army?” Dick asked curiously. “Why are you at this alone?”
“I'll read you in when I get my sh*t back. I got intel from Burr Smith. It’s good. But I’m here because the army is of the opinion that we’ll push over the line and grab our sh*t back when we do and no sooner. That losing guys like this is an accepted risk and we’ll do prisoner exchanges but not snatches. Meanwhile they’re just shooting North Korean prisoners in our camps because they’re commies, which in turn is sending a message to the commies to not worry about doing the same. Dick, we’re just here to destroy each other and the land we’re standing on. It was never about winning, it’s about leaving something behind that nobody can use. We still have this country divided up in two at the end of this, just bombed to hell. And I don’t leave my men behind, so the army can kiss my bullet riddled ass and look the other way on this too.”
“I’ll find you a pilot.”
“So,” Hawkeye said salaciously as he leaned on the door jam of The Swamp and sipped his margarita in his bathrobe, looking at Speirs stiffly sorting through gear on Frank’s bed. “You two paratroopers have been making the rounds.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but your hospitality sucks and I want to go back to work.” Ron said and continued to pick through his gear that Frank had delivered to the cot in the Swamp after he burst into the head nurse’s tent, caught them f*cking and demanded his stuff back. f*cking army, why was he always walking on on people f*cking and having to cover his own ass to make sure nobody found out what he was doing with Carwood?
“Mmm.” Hawkeye said. “And Winters? He’s just happy with missionary position?”
Ron knew he was referring to Dick wandering through post-op ward and talking with the wounded like he was on some USO tour, but he wasn’t drunk so talking sh*t was fine with him. “Don’t know, we never f*cked. Blithe was not exaggerating when he said Nix was clingy, but you can jump in on the next call home and ask how he takes it. Wouldn’t push it with Dick, he snapped some guy’s back while wrestling because he harassed him and I get the feeling it had something to do with Nix.”
“Why are you here?” Hawkeye asked and was amazed at the sheer beauty of the man as he turned and looked over his shoulder at him with a smile. Damn. Whoever the hell Carwood was, was clearly a lucky guy.
“Feeling played are we?” Ron smirked.
“A little, a little turned on by it, honestly.” Hawkeye went over and sat down on BJ’s cot. “Might surprise you, but we don’t get many walk-ins around here.”
“Should have been your first indication something was off.” Ron said. “I expect my men will need major medical assistance when I find them and knowing where our hospitals are is a very important step in getting them home. Getting shot in the ass wasn’t in the plans, nor was hiking it across eight miles of enemy territory with Sergeant Blithe to check out your facility and walking into the gayest place on Earth, but you advertised ‘Best care anywhere’ and I figured, why the hell not.”
“And we took one look at you and said “why the hell wouldn’t we keep him?” Hawkeye shrugged.
“And I’m looking at my sh*t and wondering why the hell my journal has stains in it .” Ron huffed.
“Margaret said your handwriting got her off.”
“Well, after watching Frank in action, not surprised.”
“What can we do to help?” Hawkeye asked. BJ lit into him earlier, because Winters was the tipping point. The guy didn’t want to be here, but came anyway because he believed Ron Speirs was worth saving. There was no reason for him to admit he was married to some guy back home, not that they could prove anything, but it was a sacrifice. He was sacrificing himself for Speirs, and that spoke volumes.
“I thought I was the enemy.” Ron made a face as he discovered his webbing had been adjusted. God dammit.
“You are solidly in the gray area.”
“Huge improvement, Dick must have moved my needle out of the devil category.”
“BJ did. I guess I’ve been at war with the wrong guy.”
“No you haven’t. I’m not a good guy.”
“But you’re not the one who caused all these casualties that tried to break us.” Hawkeye said.
“Oh, Jesus Dick worked you over too.”
Hawkeye tried not to laugh but they were already in Hell. What a phrase. “Your name was all I heard. Speirs. That was who every man talked about when they could talk. I gave you credit for the bodies I was patching up, but not credit for having those bodies to patch up. ”
“That’s war, Pierce.” Ron said and wondered why his f*cking sidearm looked polished. “I never cared what was said about me, didn’t see why I wouldn’t use it in my favor. “
Hawkeye played with the olive in his martini.
“What the hell is wrong with this guy? Frank? You, you I get. You are a healer, you are tired of sitting out and not taking action to prevent your patients suffering. I get it. Frank? I have no idea how he even knows about half the sh*t we did in the 101st. Was it in Life magazine? Do you guys sit around and watch old war reels, so they can sell war bonds? Why does he know me ?”
“You were on the radio?” Hawkeye offered, not really listening to things Frank said when he was gushing like Speirs #1 fan. He remembered Frank talking about that though, because he had always ignored the interviews during Spotlight Parade of Bands like they were BurmaShave commercials. “During the war, after being wounded? Parade of Spotlight bands? You talked about how you killed Nazis on D-Day? He fell in love, I guess. Might be what kept the magic alive with Mrs. Burns. He talked about you with the last surgeon we had, Trapper John McIntyre, who was also from Boston. I guess he expected you two to know each other. Anyhow, your radio interview plays on in his dreams. ”
“Oh sh*t, I forgot about that.” Ron said. That was ages ago! He had been interviewed while recovering from wounds from a potato masher. Mom said they had listened to it on the radio, something about being sponsored by Coca-Cola and Toll House? All he remembered was getting more graphic than those radio guys wanted, but they had asked . “So Frank is going off some radio interview I did? I didn’t say sh*t about our actions, just summary action.”
“He is a sh*tty doctor who was at home watching war movies, reading articles, fantasizing about the glory of war, while practicing bad medicine in Fort Wayne, Indiana. I guess he just took one look at you and swooned? Probably used his rank to get to some details about things that have no correlation to medicine. He’s that kind of guy.”
“Kind of guy who rubs my pistol shiny?” Ron stuck out his tongue in disgust, he had a headache which was beginning to really get annoying. “Right. I’m calling home then everyone gets back here and we work on a f*cking plan. I need maps. I need reports of where casualties have been coming from. I need coffee. Are you working with me on this?”
“Yeah, we can do that.”
To Dick’s surprise, Ron actually did call his Mom. Lew and Lip were probably en route to Harry’s now, which would thrill Kitty to no end since Lew spoiled their kids rotten. Harry loved the antics, but probably wasn’t aware Carwood was in tow as some cow consultant/puppy wrangler/traveling glass executive. Dick sat on the desk and listened to Ron speak Scottish? To his Mother? How had he not realized Ron was bilingual? It made sense why he was a battalion S-2 at some point. When he hung up, Dick cleared his throat. “What language was that?”
“Gaelic.” Ron looked up and smiled.
“What other languages do you speak?”
“A few. I’m not a snob about it like your Yale boy.”
“I was lost when they gave us lessons on the ship.” Dick admitted. “Turns out knowing a little Pennsylvania Dutch and passable German phrases to ask for surrender don’t get you far in Korean.”
“Bet that pissed you off.” Ron knew how competitive and competent Dick was, failing Korean 101 probably made him want to throw himself overboard.
“I’m currently more annoyed with myself for underestimating you.” Dick admitted.
“I find it a great strategy to be underestimated and overestimated.” Ron admitted and shifted on the desk, one ass cheek hanging off it so it didn’t get hurt while using the phone really was not comfortable.
“I was worried about you…” Dick knew they had privacy, everyone was in the mess for dinner. “Lip said you needed the army . I felt like the army was making you a little paranoid.”
“The army purposely creates its propaganda to do just that. And I was a guy teaching that sh*t to people. Gets in your head, so yeah, I shut everyone out. Had a job to do and as we talk about inspirational speeches, remind yourself of the mindset it takes to be here. We’re at war Dick, and you’re negotiating for hostage release by telling strangers you’re married to a guy .” Ron said and tried to not sound like he was lecturing him, but it was an occupational hazard.
“I’m more concerned with the fact I think you do need to be here. You’re good at this.” Dick said as it had become plainly obvious today that Ronald Speirs was an incredible soldier and officer. He had known that, tactically Ron was one of the best, but during the war he was….well he was barely twenty-five years old and sometimes acted like it. Now, however, he was career army and that broke his heart a little for Lip.
“I love that you sound so surprised.” Ron said and knew Dick was here to rescue him for Carwood, not rescue him so he could continue to do his duty. Knew that all along, but Dick looked absolutely crestfallen that maybe this dairy farm fantasy of his wasn’t going to work out.
“Beyond, just the oak leaves. Beyond, Killer Speirs. You’re good at this.” Dick said, proud of him.
“You mean the spy sh*t? Talking different languages, orchestrating a rescue operation from a hospital bed and pulling in a guy from half way across the world to hold down the fort while I do it. Getting my captor to work for me?” Ron asked, because Dick was having to mentally wheel around to face a new objective that wasn’t bringing Carwood Lipton’s crippled army wife home for him.
“Yeah.” Dick knew Ron was capable, he never doubted that, had seen it plenty but this was a new level for him.
“And you wanted to come get me for Lip.” Ron added, because that was what this was all about.
“Yeah.” Dick admitted. He was projecting his own situation onto them and it wasn’t fair, but Carwood had driven from West Virginia to New Jersey to ask for help. “Now, I’m wondering if I’m ever going to see you again when this is over or if you will just show up at some reunion in fifty years and tell me everything is classified and if you tell me, you’ll have to kill me.”
“And steal your husband’s lame ass line? Never.” Ron played with some papers. “But you’re not wrong. I’ve had some training, the door is open for that life if I want it. But it means shutting the door on another life. And being in that training, hearing these spooks talk about the sh*t they’re doing to our own people, makes you paranoid. Because it’s really happening. Spying on our own people, vetting them. Making sure no communists are hiding among us. Scare tactics, but they have the go ahead to follow through with whatever has to happen to protect our country. And if I am being considered for it, I know it’s happening to me.”
“I don’t think Lip is going to give up on you.”
“I know he won’t. He took that glass factory job because it has international offices and we f*cking fought about it. So yeah, me calling him was probably even more of a shock than you realize.”
“That’s why you were so excited to come here?”
“Yup.” Ron said and fiddled with his pen. “It’s all I’ve really been good at but I’m a little homesick and I’m getting recruited for intelligence work and…that means I’ll never see home. I’m not worth millions, Dick, I can’t just do whatever I want and not worry about being blacklisted. What worked for you, isn’t as easy for me. I’m glad it did though, happy for you, but married life has really made you something of a bored housewife trying to arrange marriage between your co-workers.”
Dick wasn’t going to debate that. He had to laugh. He and Nix could get married because Nix had the means to just leave and not worry about a thing for the rest of his life. Travel, go live on his Mom’s island, buy his way out of problems. The only reason he was invested in Nixon Nitration is that Dick had gotten attached to the workers at the plant when he was personnel manager. They had both worked hard to try and keep that company afloat, Nix had finally moved on from thinking he could save it from his father to trying to save it by selling it to someone who would run it better. He missed him, dearly. “I am sorry if we applied any pressure to you, it’s just been a great thing for us and we saw how happy you were in Austria.”
Ron and Carwood had been all over each other in Austria, he wasn’t surprised by that statement. God, they had been happy— happy to be alive and happy to just be themselves. He was thankful Dick didn’t follow that up by mentioning their house sitting fiasco, Austria really was an amazing image to keep in his head as a reason to find a way home. “Not our problem at the moment. Ready to talk rescue plans?”
"Yes, sir."
It was exceptionally easy to gather intelligence on ‘Five O ‘Clock Charlie’ and plot a relatively straight course to where he kept his plane. Dick had assistance from an injured pilot who had been flying C-119s and had been shot down after a drop. The kid was a draftee, should have been flying his Dad’s crop duster back in Ohio, but fate put him in a bed at the 4077 with a bullet in his arm and now on a secret mission to steal a plane.
It reminded Dick of Normandy, or rather, this kid reminded him of Private Hall.
Of course there was really nothing to compare this kid to Hall over other than he was walking through enemy territory at night with some young man who should have been anywhere but here. This kid, he had seen so much action already and had lost an older brother in the last war he was too young to fight in; his brother, a pilot for one of the C-47s that were shot down over Normandy. So, despite the draft, he was doing the job in honor of someone he lost.
The job, currently, was stealing a plane he was going to have to fly in the dark, without radio, and land in the middle of a field hospital lit up by tiki torches while Colonel Potter slept away a belly full of terrible booze and Ron dressed down Major Burns for improper gun care. He’d only been here a day and Ron already had him stealing , Lew was going to laugh so hard he would cry.
