The Nurse Game
There was quiet on the M*A*S*H 4077th compound. There were no wounded arriving or leaving, no choppers or buses to be waiting for. Colonel Blake and Frank Burns were both away at a conference, so no monthly lecture, no staff meeting. It was a lull in the action, and, much as the personnel loved a lull, they did get boring very quickly.
‘Y’know, I think I’m finally getting tired of this game,’ said Hawkeye, as he let go of his blown-up surgical glove and watched it fly across the Swamp and miss the target by inches.
‘Just because you’re losing,’ said Trapper, landing his own inflated glove perfectly on the target.
‘No, not just because I’m losing. It’s a stupid game, whether I’m losing or not.’
‘Yeah, whatever,’ said Trapper, stretching out across his unmade bed, feeling too lazy to argue. ‘What do you think we should play then, if this is so boring?’
‘Let’s invent a new game,’ Said Hawkeye, sitting up.
‘Involving what, exactly?’
Hawkeye pondered for a moment.
‘What do we love more than anything else in Korea?’
‘Booze?’ suggested Trapper, holding up his martini glass.
‘Apart from that.’
‘Nurses!’
‘Exactly! We’ll call it… The Nurse Game!’
And so, half an hour later, Trapper and Hawkeye knocked on the door of the nurses’ tent.
‘What do you two want?’ asked one of the nurses, peeking around the door. There was giggling from inside.
‘Oh, just some medical information,’ said Hawkeye.
‘Medical information?’
‘Yeah,’ supplied Trapper. ‘We just want to measure you… in all the right places…’
He reached in and his hands snaked around her waist, pulling the tape measure taut just above her belly-button.
‘Trapper, that tickles!’ she laughed.
Trapper read out the measurement to Hawkeye, who wrote it down on his clipboard.
‘What’s this in aid of?’ Another nurse asked, opening the door to allow the two doctors in. Four or five other nurses sat around.
‘Gee, we just think all of you girls are so swell, we want to preserve your vital statistics forever, in a time capsule,’ said Hawkeye. ‘Someday, historians will dig it up and they’ll say: Boy, those guys at the 4077th were lucky to have such a great-looking nursing staff.’
‘Yeah, and what’s in it for us?’ the first nurse asked.
‘Our undying gratitude?’ Trapper said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Hawkeye stepped further into the tent and began to measure the nurses, who laughed and swatted at him playfully. Hawkeye wrote it all down on his clipboard.
The next morning, Radar entered the Swamp with the mail, throwing a few letters each on Hawkeye and Trapper’s occupied cots, and Frank’s empty one.
‘Morning sirs, got your mail!’ he called cheerfully, waking up the two sleeping doctors. ‘Say, I heard you guys are making a time capsule of all of the nurses’ vital statistics?’ Radar asked, as the two of them grumbled their way out of sleep and into sitting positions.
‘Well, yeah…’ Trapper began.
‘So what are you really doing?’ Radar asked, settling on the end of Hawkeye’s cot.
‘Are we that transparent?’ Hawkeye asked.
Radar shrugged. ‘That’s why they call me Radar, sir.’
‘Okay, tell him, Trap. You won’t pass this on to any of the nurses, will you, Radar?’
‘No sir! Your secret’s safe with me.’
‘Well,’ Trapper said, ‘We are getting all of the nurses’ vital statistics, but it isn’t for a time capsule. It’s for a game.’
‘What kind of game?’
‘A new game. We’ll make a card for every nurse, with all her measurements on it. We’ll shuffle and deal the pack and each of us will get half the cards. Then one of us will suggest one measurement, say, chest size, just for the sake of example. The one whose nurse has to most impressive measurement wins the other player’s card and the one with the most cards at the end wins.’
‘Gee, I don’t think the nurses would like that very much,’ Radar said.
‘And that’s exactly why we’re not going to tell them,’ Hawkeye said. ‘What they don’t know can’t hurt them, right?’
‘And you’re doing this for every single nurse?’ Radar asked.
‘Well, we need the complete set,’ Said Trapper.
‘How many do you have so far?’
‘About a quarter. We’ll get more in Post-Op today.’ Hawkeye wriggled with anticipation. ‘We haven’t even played it yet, and I already love this game!’
That evening, Hawkeye and Trapper sat in the Officers’ Club, looking through their clipboard after a thoroughly successful day. Most of the nurses had been more than co-operative, and both of them had dates for later that night.
‘So, who do we still need?’ Hawkeye asked.
Trapper read the names that hadn’t been crossed off the list.
‘Nurse Lewis, Kellye, Nurse Green, Susan, Nurse Hodgson… and Major Houlihan.’
‘That’s going to be tough,’ Hawkeye said.
‘Tougher than you think,’ said Trapper. ‘Look…’
Major Houlihan was approaching them across the club, a furious look on her face and her hands on her hips.
‘What’s this I hear about some kind of silly time capsule of nurses?’ she asked.
‘Absolutely that,’ Hawkeye said enthusiastically. ‘We thought our brave, hardworking girls deserved some kind of lasting recognition, and this is our tribute to them.’
‘Oh, really,’ Said Margaret, her frown deepening. ‘And, seeing as they are so brave and hardworking, you didn’t think it would be more suitable to pay some sort of tribute to that? A list of people they’ve helped to save, maybe? But no, all they are to you is playthings.’ She leaned on the table to glare at the two of them. ‘Don’t even pretend to appreciate the kind of work those girls put in every single day! They are absolutely crucial to the smooth running of this outfit and you would be lost at sea without them – but all you care about is who has the best figure, or the nicest smile! You disgust me!’
‘So, you won’t let us measure you?’ Hawkeye trailed off as Margaret stalked out of the Officers’ Club.
It was late in the afternoon a few days later, that inconvenient time when lunch is all digested and dinner will still be a while yet. Hawkeye and Trapper sat in the Swamp, playing the game with the newly made cards. Trapper was winning, his pile of cards was stacked high on the table while Hawkeye’s was dwindling fast.
‘This is no fun,’ Hawkeye sighed.
‘You always says that when you’re losing!’ Trapper grinned. ‘Come on, let’s keep going, maybe you can claw your way back up.’
‘But it’s no good,’ said Hawkeye. ‘The pack will never be complete.’
‘Aaw, so what if Hot Lips won’t play ball? We have cards for all the other girls, isn’t that enough?’
‘It’s not a set!’ said Hawkeye. ‘This is just going to bug me unless I do something about it.’ He dug the tape measure out from under some laundry on the floor and started out of the door.
‘Hey, where are you going?’ asked Trapper.
‘I’m going to follow Margaret until I see an opportunity to measure her. I will not be beaten by that woman!’
He went out into the stuffy afternoon, a look of steely determination on his face.
When Hawkeye arrived in Post-Op, Margaret was busy putting fresh linen on the beds, as were some of the other nurses. He tried to creep up on her, but she saw him approaching and looked at him suspiciously, so he pretended to be checking on a patient, tucking the tape measure swiftly into his pocket.
Margaret spent another half an hour changing the linen, then went to sit at her desk at the other end of the ward, while the other nurses left. It must be Margaret’s shift to keep an eye on Post-Op. With studied nonchalance, Hawkeye sauntered out and then went around the other way, so that he would end up behind Margaret, looking through the other door to Post-Op. As he tried to figure out a way to measure her through the door, she spread out a sheaf of paperwork and began to write, referring to several pieces of paper as she did. Soon, there were pages full of Margaret’s small, neat handwriting lying on the desk, and Hawkeye was still standing behind the door, becoming increasingly bored.
When Hawkeye saw the patients’ dinner being brought in, he realised that it was about that time, and he was actually pretty hungry himself. He wanted to go over to the Mess Tent and see what was for dinner, but Margaret didn’t go and he didn’t want to miss his window, so he tried to ignore his stomach growling. After a few minutes someone brought Margaret a sandwich, which she snatched bites of in between helping some of the patients who weren’t able to feed themselves. The patients were all alert now and would notice if he tried to measure Margaret while she was feeding one of them. Hawkeye was beginning to get very bored.
It had been about two hours when one of the patients, a young soldier, called for a glass of water. Margaret brought it to him with a smile, and sat by his bed to make sure he could manage the glass with his bandaged arm. Hawkeye, seeing a chance, entered Post-Op again. Margaret was talking to the patient as Hawkeye edged silently closer.
‘I just miss my family,’ he was saying, wistfully. ‘My sister was about to have a baby when I left – her first.’
‘Oh, that’s wonderful!’ Margaret smiled. ‘Girl or boy?’
‘She sent me a letter a while back – it’s a boy and they named him Richard, after my father.’
‘What a nice thought,’ said Margaret, smiling.
‘I keep the letter with me,’ he said. ‘My sister doesn’t write so much now, since she’s so busy with the baby, so I keep all her letters to read over and over when I’m missing home.’
‘I’m sure you’ll see your family again soon,’ Margaret said encouragingly, smoothing the sheets a little with the palms of her hands.
‘Hey, would you mind doing something for me?’ the boy asked.
‘Sure, what is it?’
‘Well, since I got wounded, I’ve been sort of tired and it gets hard to read, sometimes. Do you think you could read one of my sister’s letters out to me?’
‘I’d love to,’ Margaret said, taking the folded sheets of paper that the boy indicated on his bedside table. She unfolded it carefully and started to read. ‘Dear Amos, I hope you’re ok over there. Richie said his first word today, well, it was more of a gurgle really but we’re counting it anyway…’
Hawkeye realised that he had been rooted to the spot, listening for a few minutes. He suddenly thought that he wouldn’t like to interrupt this moment, measurements or no, so he went across to the other side of the ward to check on one of his patients, glancing up occasionally to make sure Margaret didn’t slip out of his grasp.
After she had read the letter, and spoken to the boy a little longer, Margaret moved on to talk quietly with another patient, then another after that. They all seemed calmer and happier after she left, and not long after the whole ward was asleep. By this time, Hawkeye was outside the door again, looking in. He couldn’t see a way to measure her without her noticing; the ward was too open for him to get close. He looked at his watch. It was getting close to ten. He would usually be in the Officers’ Club about now, downing martinis with Trapper or dancing cheek to cheek with one of the nurses. When was Margaret going to be done?
She walked the length of the ward, checking patients’ charts and IVs. Then she sat down again to do some more paperwork, her brow furrowing in concentration as she worked out the nursing rota.
Hawkeye was almost asleep when another nurse came to relieve Margaret. He followed her quietly as she left the ward. Surely now she would go and get a drink or something, and in the close quarters of the club he would be able to get near enough to measure her. Hawkeye was feeling pretty tired after an evening of tailing Margaret, and he was really hoping she would want a drink so he could get one as well, and kill two birds with one stone.
But Margaret just went back to her own tent. He couldn’t follow her in there, but the light from the single bulb cast shadows on the sides of the tent and he could see that she was sitting at her desk, still writing. After a while she started to read, from the shape it looked like a medical journal. She was reading for a long while before the lightbulb finally went out and he could hear the sounds of Margaret getting into bed. Dejected after a long, exhausting evening with no success in his quest, Hawkeye headed straight back to the Swamp to sleep – he knew Margaret got up early and he wasn’t about to miss his chance. Maybe he could get her while she was at callisthenics.
Tired as he was from following Margaret around the evening before, Hawkeye got up quickly when he heard the early-morning bugle call he usually ignored, and put on his dressing gown before quietly leaving the Swamp. Trapper turned over and put his pillow over his head without even waking up.
There was a small but diligent group that did callisthenics every morning and Margaret was one of them. When Hawkeye reached that section of the compound they had already been at it for several minutes and he could see Margaret had been working hard by the redness of her face. He half-heartedly joined in at the back of the group, but Margaret was close to the centre, surrounded by people, so there was no chance to get near her. Hawkeye still had the tape measure coiled up in his pocket.
After callisthenics, Margaret spent ten minutes in the shower before going to breakfast in the Mess Tent. Hawkeye skipped ahead of her and got his own breakfast first, sitting at the emptiest table and hoping that the lack of seats would mean she had to sit near him. She did, but across the table. She sipped at her coffee and spooned her breakfast mush absent-mindedly as she read a new case study from the hospital in Seoul.
Hawkeye had barely finished his breakfast when Margaret got up and went to Post-Op. It was time for Hawkeye’s morning rounds anyway, so he followed, and tried to time his round so that their paths would meet, but she followed a zigzagging path across the ward and he missed his chance. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she asked the patients how they had slept, got them glasses of water or dispensed their meds. After that she went to take delivery of a shipment of bandages and dressings that had just arrived, helping to carry them into the Supply Tent. Then she went to the Nurses’ Tent to discuss a weekend pass with some of the nurses who wanted to go down to Seoul for a birthday party. Then she went and sat at the desk in Post-Op again, with some more paperwork. Hawkeye sighed with exasperation. When would he ever get the chance to measure her and complete his set of cards? He was beginning to think maybe it wasn’t worth it after all – maybe Trapper was right. But pig-headedness kept him on course – he had told Trapper that he would complete the set, and he didn’t want to lose face. If he came back empty-handed, after all of this, he would feel somehow less than a man.
So when one of the other nurses on the ward told Margaret that they needed more dressings, Hawkeye was glad that she decided to go to the Supply Tent to fetch some more. He followed her across the compound and entered the tent silently behind her, taking out the tape measure. As she browsed the shelf for what she needed, humming to herself a little, he was able to creep close enough behind her to begin taking her measurements. In spite of his determination to complete his mission, he couldn’t help but be a little distracted by her close proximity. He was near enough to smell her hair and watch the way it brushed the nape of her neck. As much as they argued and fought, Hawkeye had to admit she was one hell of a woman. He was nearly done taking his measurements when she turned to leave, a pile of new dressings in her arms. But somehow Hawkeye’s tape measure had twisted around her feet and she tripped and fell hard onto her back. Hawkeye, holding onto the tape measure for dear life, was dragged down with her and fell on top of her with a grunt. Their faces were close enough to touch. She gasped, getting her breath back – he could feel her breathing. They really were very close. Hawkeye felt very warm all of a sudden.
‘Captain Pierce, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!’ Margaret cried, pushing him away as she sat up, rubbing her bruised back.
‘I’m sorry, it was an accident…’ Hawkeye said, getting up hurriedly.
She sniffed as she picked herself up, refusing his offer of help. She smoothed out her skirt and glared at him.
‘Well?’ she demanded.
She saw the tape measure as Hawkeye tried to scoot it under a shelf with his foot.
‘Not that stupid nurse capsule again?’ she said. ‘Didn’t I warn you to stop that?’
‘Look, I’m sorry, Margaret, I…’
‘No you’re not. And that’s Major Houlihan to you, got it?’
She stalked out without waiting for an answer.
‘Hey, Hawk, you in here?’ Trapper came into the Swamp. ‘What’s that smell? Hawk – what are you doing?!’
‘I’m burning the nurse cards,’ Hawkeye said calmly, prodding a few more cards into the little stove.
‘But why? We spent so long working on them!’ Trapper tried to fish the cards out of the stove and scorched his fingers.
‘Because I… I just changed my mind, that’s all!’
Hawkeye stuffed the remainder of the cards into the stove, shut the door and went to flop onto his cot.
‘You changed your mind?’ Trapper was incredulous. ‘That was the best game we ever came up with! I was thinking we could start to add pictures!’
‘Look, Trap, just drop it, will you?’ Hawkeye snapped. ‘Oh, I’m going out. And don’t think about trying to rescue those cards. They’re goners by now, anyway.’
Margaret had just finished her rounds, checking the charts and patients. Everything was under control and she looked with satisfaction at her neat, efficient Post-Op Ward. Nobody could say she didn’t run a tight ship.
‘Major?’
Captain Pierce was standing at the door.
Margaret tensed; she didn’t want to talk to him. ‘Yes, Captain?’ she said briskly, pretending to be looking over a chart.
‘You were right, the other day in the Officers’ Club. I mean, you have to admit that the nurses here are a pretty swell-looking bunch, and sometimes that makes us forget just what an important job they do. They’re the best nursing team in the whole damn war, and that’s down to you, Margaret. Everyone knows you’re the real driving force of this outfit.’
Her frown softened a little, but her arms were still crossed defensively across her chest.
‘So, what I mean to say is… I’m really very sorry. I was out of line, and I’ll try to appreciate the nurses’ work more in future.’
‘Apology accepted, Captain.’ Margaret said. ‘Now if you don’t mind, I really am very busy.’
‘No, wait, there’s more.’
‘Yes?’
‘We weren’t really making a time capsule.’ He stopped nervously.
‘Well, what were you doing then?’
‘We were playing a game. A card game. It involved… comparing all the nurses’ statistics. I really am very sorry.’
‘Well, I can’t say I’m surprised, Pierce.’ She sighed, not able to summon up the energy to get angry. ‘I assume you’re going to destroy these cards?’
‘Already done, I promise. Please, Margaret, if there’s anything I can do to make this up to you, anything at all…’
‘No, that’s quite alright. Don’t you have somewhere else to be?’
Hawkeye gave up and left Post-Op, disheartened. An angry Margaret he could cope with, he even enjoyed their heated arguments in a funny way. But this time Margaret was cold and indifferent and he couldn’t stand it. He paced the compound, muttering. He had to do something to make Margaret talk to him again. He had to show her that he really did appreciate the nurses. She had to talk to him again.
Margaret entered Post-Op the next morning to find Captain Pierce waiting for her, where Nurse Kellye should have been, ready to act as her assistant on the ward.
‘Where’s Kellye?’ she asked, not looking at him.
‘I gave her the morning off.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I’ll be taking over her duties today.’
‘What? Don’t be ridiculous, get Kellye right now,’ Margaret frowned, checking the patients’ charts and trying to ignore Hawkeye following her.
‘I’m serious. I’ve decided that the best way to prove to you that I really do appreciate the work the nurses do is to be a nurse for the day.’
‘No.’
‘Oh, come on, Margaret. Please?’ he pleaded. ‘Kellye was so glad to have the morning off; she’s probably already made plans.’
Margaret paused, considering. She really didn’t want Pierce tailing her all morning, but on the other hand she knew that Kellye had been stressed out lately and telling her she didn’t really have the morning off would be unkind. And it would probably be possible to do everything herself, but it would take much longer and she had lots to do. She looked at Hawkeye, who seemed sincere for once and was gazing at her earnestly.
‘Oh, alright!’ she sighed. ‘But this is under protest – and in future I would appreciate it if you didn’t give my nurses time off without consulting me.’
‘Thank you! Thank you! I promise I’ll work just as hard as any of your nurses – harder, even!’
She sighed, wondering what she had let herself in for.
‘Well, what are you waiting for?’ she asked. ‘Get checking those IVs.’
Hawkeye wiped the sweat from his brow after removing the sterilised surgical instruments from the autoclave. Surely it was lunchtime by now? He felt as though he’d been working for days; this nurse lark was more difficult than it looked.
Margaret strode in, took note of him carefully putting away the instruments and nodded with satisfaction.
‘Well, you checked all the IVs, changed the beds, filled in the nursing rota, fetched the patients’ breakfasts and sterilised the instruments,’ she said, checking them all off the list on her clipboard. ‘Not quite as much as I would expect from Kellye, but then you are new to nursing, and I can see that you were trying very hard. I guess you can go get some lunch now.’
‘And you forgive me for making up that game?’ Hawkeye asked.
‘Hmmm. I guess you’ve proven that you really are sorry, and, amazingly, it seems you are capable of actually working hard. I forgive you, for this particular misdemeanour.’
‘Forgive me enough to let me buy you a lunchtime drink?’
She grinned. ‘You’re on, Nurse Pierce.’
THE END.
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