Government Property

Note and Disclaimer: Well, Frank needed another silly story in there. I just have to mention I don't own him or M*A*S*H. My imagination just runs wild.


"This is government property!" I yelled at Henry Blake in his tent. Margaret and I woke him up to show him the typewriter. It clanged on the floor, near my fee. "I will not tolerate Army property to be damaged by a bunch of maniacs!"

"They're animals!" Margaret added. "Those two, they're making a mockery of the US Army and to this war!"

We continued our complaints. We were righteous! Our typewriter had been sabotaged and I was not going to let those degenerates get away with it this time. They had to be punished and by the book! They had to be drummed out of the Army! Anything had to happen to make those supposed doctors pay. They were honored in serving this Man's Army. And now, they made a mockery of it by regarding all regulations and being disrespectful!

Blake hardly listened, that ninny. His black mask over his eyes was screwy to begin with. It kept slipping down. But I didn't care. I jabbed him with my finger in the shoulders every time he fell back asleep. Eventually, he woke up and addressed us. Margaret and I were quite done.

"Frank, have you ever thought that someone else might have done it?" Blake said to me when we finished. "You don't know if Pierce and McIntyre touched the typewriter."

Margaret and I were outraged. "How dare you?" she screamed. "How dare you question us? It's pretty damned obvious that Pierce and McIntyre are behind this! Who else would do this?"

"Prove it," Blake dared us. "Give me the evidence and I'll see to it that they are court martialed. Typewriters are hard to come by and destroying one is a court martial offence."

My love was going to say something, but I stopped her. Blake was speaking the truth. Regulations tell us what is essential and what is not and typewriters are one of those items a M*A*S*H unit needs. Yes, we knew that Pierce and McIntyre were up to their old tricks. We just had to give him the evidence he required. This will bring the desired results.

"You want proof, we will provide it," I vowed. "We will be back, Colonel. Don't you worry about it."

I led Margaret out of the tent and guided her back to hers. When we were alone, the broken typewriter placed on her cot, she wrapped her arms around me. I felt the energy underneath that body of hers. She was ecstatic with my response to Blake. We did not receive what we asked for, but it was no matter. We had to be fair and bring Blake what he requested and that was fair enough.

"Ooohhh, Frank, you are so smart!" she exclaimed. "I am so proud of you!"

Margaret purred in my face for a few minutes and rubbed her blonde head against my chest. I tolerated it, but my mind worked. I had tasks that needed to be completed. If we were to nab McIntyre and Pierce, we had to go about it carefully. Quickly, she noticed this change and pulled away from me.

"Frank, what is it?" she asked me. "What's wrong?"

"We must be cautious, my dear," I told her. "If we are to hold Pierce and McIntyre responsible, we must act like nothing happened. You stay with the nurses and find out anything. I will return to my quarters."

Margaret begged me to stay a little longer, but I declined. I returned to what those animals called a Swamp and settled in my corner. Those two were pretending to be sleeping, of course. I left my light on and made some noise before thinking of sleep myself, hoping that one or both of them would say something or incriminate himself. When I was content in my cot, Pierce turned his lamp on.

"Frank, what's gotten into you?" he inquired. "Bed bugs crawling up your shorts again?"

"Maybe it's the spider with the eggs in his footlocker," McIntyre added. "She promised to make him the prized pig and never be slaughtered."

"Hardy har-har," I said. "Very funny."

I ignored them for the rest of the night, despite Pierce making his wise cracks and McIntyre adding some commentary. In the morning, I was on duty. I went into Post-Op and began the daily paperwork pile. All the while, the nurses and orderlies cleaned the place up. McIntyre also came in. He watched one of his patients, asked a nurse for information, and wrote down some orders.

I eyed him suspiciously. When he went towards Henry's office, I had to know what he was doing. Immediately, I was on his tail. When I caught up with him, I saw that McIntyre was talking with the pipsqueak Radar…and they were inspecting an order of medication.

They didn't notice me. I backed off and returned to Post-Op. McIntyre was behind me and soon talking with another nurse about another patient. This continued throughout our shift. Then, Blake was on and he took over my duties.

This freed me. I had to check out the other doctor. After all, Pierce had a free day. I checked everywhere for him. I found him coming out of the nurses' tent. But he held a package in his hands and was walking towards Post-Op. This piqued my interest.

Eventually, I saw that Pierce was heading to Blake's office! I hid behind a garbage can. I waited until Pierce was out of sight before I moved forward. Quietly, I entered and pretended to be busy in the filing cabinet. He had entered Blake's office and was putting the package down on the desk. When he left, I made sure that he didn't look behind him and nobody else was around. The coast was clear!

I made my way to the package and looked at it. It was some box some Havana, Cuba. I guessed it had something to do with the home videos that Blake kept having sent to Korea, but I was not sure. Curious, I opened it at the seams and found the reels. I went through each one and almost threw up. They were disgusting!

I put everything back together and left. My plans were not going as I thought they should, but no matter! I was surely hot on the trail. Pierce and McIntyre were destroying government property. I was sure of it!

All day, I managed to check out every move McIntyre and Pierce did and what they did before I saw them. Nobody told me that they had ruined the typewriter and there was no evidence that the did. They went through their shifts, drank at their cots and fraternized with the nurses. When they were not around, I even checked their footlockers and under their cots. I rummaged through their trash amongst the shelves. There was no jam! The culprit was not them unless they hid the evidence.

I met Margaret in her tent later that evening. After a few passionate kisses, I told her about my day. She said the same. No nurse was ready to admit to her that the captains had done anything. If they could, they wouldn't snitch on them anyway. The rascals have those women locked in their grasps so tightly that even the Communists wouldn't have tortured them enough.

"Nobody saw anything either," Margaret mentioned. "I asked all of the enlisted personnel too."

"Those sneaks wouldn't tell you anything," I declared. "They're too dedicated to their own advancement and how to get out of working for the Army."

Margaret conceded. "Oh, Frank, what are we going to do?"

"We'll find the culprits," I decided. "If it takes going through hell, I will do it. I am sure MacArthur would have done the same."

Just mentioning MacArthur's name put Margaret deeper in my arms. She aroused me. Quickly, we hopped onto her cot, but something crunched under her back and stabbed her. She screamed in pain and pushed me off. After I made sure she was not hurt, we rose and investigated her cot.

There was a large red stain on her blankets. When Margaret lifted the cloth, we saw that the jar of strawberry jam had been there and destroyed when Margaret and I landed on it. She and I also saw a typed note. I picked it up and read it to Margaret.

This is government property you just damaged with the jam. It will be on report.