11Me: My first MASH fan fiction. I hope you enjoy! Though, it isn't really an enjoy kind of thing, more like a 'what the heck is wrong with this person?' kind of thing.
Disclaimer: I do not own M*A*S*H!
Trapper knew where it went wrong.
It went wrong when he actually let himself believe he was going home, going home to Louise and his two beautiful girls. He broke his rule of not believing that until he was refusing his first house call back home.
It went wrong when Hawkeye didn't come back fast enough.
Trapper wasn't one to believe in omens, but leaving Korea without saying goodbye to his best friend, the only thing that made the whole army drafting thing bearable? If that wasn't a bad sign, what was?
It also went wrong when he reached the airport and his orders were rescinded.
Not only had he not said goodbye to Hawkeye, his hope of going home to see his loved ones was dashed by the cruel reality that his going home orders was a 'mistake'. Of all things the army to make mistakes about, why did it have to be the orders of a young doctor with a wife and two children he had already written to to tell them he was coming?
Another way it went wrong was when he was sent to a smaller M*A*S*H unit closer to the front, where there were only two doctors- himself and a Dr. Drake.
So now, even farther away from home then before, he was in a strange place that was run not by a kind Henry Blake, or a twit like Frank Burns, but by a very by the book Colonel who was worse then Colonel Flagg and all the other so called military intelligence personal that had ever been at the M*A*S*H 4077 put together.
Trapper had tried to write Hawkeye- goodness knows he tried- but this M*A*S*H unit took the name Mobile Army Surgical Hospital to heart, and moved a dozen times a week it seemed. Being smaller, it wasn't as big a job as it would have been to move the 4077 around that much, but still, it wasn't fun. He wrote to his wife to explaining the mistake in as many curse words as he could think of, but how could he know if she got it? Trapper had heard stories of people never receiving letters from the people who went off to war, but he never thought that could happen to him. Now he understood though; when you move about so much, how is anyone, especially the stupid army, supposed make sure your mail was sent and a reply received?
Trapper used to think that, had they been able to stay in one place long enough, he might have gotten answers to his letters. But now, he only thought if he wasn't a prisoner of war then he might have gotten an answer to his letters.
So now, here he was, in some makeshift strong hold, trying to keep other prisoners from bleeding to death.
'I can't believe I ever thought the 4077 to be a hellhole,' he thought as he inspected another prisoner's wound. 'It's heaven compared to this place.'
Trapper dug into his surgical bag- the only thing the guards let him keep, and even then they had taken out all his syringes, leaving him powerless to give out any pain killers to the ailing men- and took out fresh bandages and began to rewrap the wound.
"John," Dr. Drake said from behind him. He had this weird knack for being able to come up to you really quietly, as if he materialized there. "Do you have any more bandages to spare?"
"Yeah, Drake," Trapper replied. He pulled out another roll of bandages and handed them to his colleague. "You use all yours?"
Drake nodded. "I'm afraid so. There's a kid up there who is just in pieces..." he trailed off, his gaze looking in the direction he came in.
Trapper opened his mouth to try and make some light hearted comment, but closed it again. ' And Hawkeye said I made it bearable for him'. He thought bitterly as he watched Drake run back to his patient.
Hawkeye had been the one in the 4077 that made everyone laugh. He had been the one that had been able to keep everyone's spirits up even when they were working around the clock treating casualties. Whenever Trapper had felt to down or tired to tell a joke, Hawkeye always found the energy to tell one better then the on Trapper had thought of, resulting in a smile even out of Hot Lips. ' And he thought I made it bearable,' he thought again.
Trapper shook his head. He needed to focus; he didn't have Hawkeye here to crack a joke or help out with his amazing doctoring skills. Drake was a good doctor, yes, but his chest cutting skills were nothing compared to Hawkeye's, which would have come in handy right about now.
"Captain Macintire, Sir?"
Trapper turned to see who addressed him. It was Page, one of the few lucky guards who didn't get injured during the fight. He had short blond hair and was quite tall. He was only a little older then Radar, and was the closest thing to sweet around the M*A*S*H 103. "Yeah, Page?"
"You might wanna come with me sir; there's something going on."
"Sure, Page, just give me a minute." Trapper motioned for one of the nurses who was walking passed. "Finishing rapping this guy up, will you honey?" He said handing her the bandages.
The nurse smiled. "If the Major Kendal heard you talking like that, sir, she'd be furious."
Major Kendal was the 103's Major Houlahain, except she was no Hot Lips. She was as stoic as a stone and as serious about army regulations as General Macarthur. If she had heard Trapper call one of the nurses 'honey', he'd be getting a five thousand word lecture on how doctors and nurses should behave around each other, despite have a bleeding patient next to him.
Trapper smiled at the nurse. "I won't tell if you won't, sweetheart," he said. "And if you do good on this patient I may even have you home by ten." If Trapper couldn't have Hawkeye's talent for chest cutting, he could at least crack his jokes.
The nurse smiled again and took the bandages and diligently began finishing dressing the wound. "Alright, Page," Trapper said, getting up from the ground and following the young boy. "What is it?"
Page led him over to the edge of the gate, where Drake was already. The three men stood side by side, looking out through the wires. The Koreans were talking and pointing at the fenced area. They looked as if they were arguing.
"What are they talking about?" Trapper asked, low enough so only his companions could hear.
"There is an army of American soldiers coming down the hill," Drake whispered back in the same low tone. "They are going to evacuate this area before they get here and are trying to decide what to do with us."
Drake knew Korean? For some reason, Trapper wasn't surprised. "What does that have to do with us?" He asked.
"They are deciding whether to take us with then to exchange later, or to leave us here for then to kill."
It took Trapper a second to think. "But their the American army," he said. "They'd rescue us."
Drake looked at Trapper doubtful. "Not if they think the Koreans are still here," he insisted. "They will shoot, then think afterwards. If they think they are taking the Koreans by surprise-"
"They'll check to see who they've shot after they've won," Trapper groaned.
Drake nodded. "Now you understand."
"Um, sirs?" Page said. Both men turned to look at him. Page's face was white, and he was still watching the Koreans with great interest. "I think they've decided..."
...
Was there a worse place then Hell?
If so, then this would be it, Trapper thought as he threw himself down in the grass as another shell rang off. Who was shooting, the American army or the Korean army? Trapper didn't know. All he knew someone was set on killing someone else and he wished they would stop.
The Koreans decided to leave most of the prisoners where they were, taking only the Colonel and a few other personnel with them. Trapper knew the took the Radar of the 103 with them (who was nothing like Radar) but everyone else he wasn't sure of. He assumed the Koreans hadn't gotten very far, because whatever the American army was shooting at was shooting back.
Trapper and the other prisoners had broken out of the fenced area as soon as the Koreans were out of sight. They had tried to stay together, but then the shooting happened and everyone was in different directions. Drake and Page were long gone, as was everyone else who had been with Trapper. He was alone in some part of Korea.
Trapper heard a loud creaking sound stick out from all the shooting. He looked up from the grass to see not a hundred yards away a huge hunk of metal.
It was a tank.
He couldn't tell if it was an American tank or a Korean tank and he didn't care, it was a tank and that was enough to scare him to death.
Trapper remembered a boy that had come to the 4077 who had been paralyzed from dealing with the tanks. How he had frozen up on the battlefield, fear taking over him.
He hadn't really understood how fear could paralyze, but now he did.
'You are not a boy,' Trapper thought furiously. 'You have to move!'
But his legs didn't listen.
Trapper could hear the tank creak as it slowly made its way towards soldiers, waiting to run them down. He watched as shells went off next to it and didn't even leave a mark.
But his legs still didn't move.
When the tank finally fired as it's target, that is when Trapper's body went from 'panic' mode into 'run-for-your-life' mode. He scrambled up and ran, away from the tanks and away from the shooting.
Unfortunately, there was no running from the shells.
His last conscious thought was, 'I shouldn't have believed.'
Me: This originated with the idea of Trapper showing up at the 4077 wounded and everyone wondering how and why he was still in Korea. Will there be more? Ask my sleep deprived brain.
If you have time, please review!
Happy Writing!