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M*A*S*H DIARY

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Praefectus Praetorio said:
April 6, 1951 MASH 4078th, Wo-on-Krux, Korea

Memo to: Self

From: Brigadier General P. Praetorio, Judge Advocate General's Corps, United States Army

Given some of the Issues raised by this matter, I believe it vital to maintain a confidential written record of the events for later use.

God, what a hell-hole! It doesn’t help that I’ve spent the last 53 hours crammed into cold, hard transport planes or shuffling through ugly air bases! The drive from Korea HQ was the worst. You’d think they could provide better accommodations of a general officer! It was terrible.
Until I arrived here and found it worse.
First Sergeant Helmut Connoisseurs asked permission to find his wartime comrade, Staff Sergeant Adolf Loxuru in the motor pool. I readily agreed since much more can be learned from a friendly non-com, than from up-tight officers.
I went to present myself to the post commander. Hovering at the edges of the tent was a ratty little corporal who introduced himself as “Racing” Rodent. (Very Strange). As he went inside, he said he would inform Colonel Phlebas of my arrival.
Phlebas! I hadn’t even looked at the name of the commander until now. But that name! There couldn’t be too many around with that.
Corporal Rodent ushered me in. There, in the uniform of an Australian Lieutenant Colonel was my old Frat brother, Oliver Phlebas! We both grinned and saluted before grasping each other with the old Φ Θ Β handshake! We soon were sitting on his camp chairs, sipping decent Australian rum, Bundaberg, with a damn polar bear on the label, and reminiscing about the days when he and I were students at XXX University. For the life of us, neither could remember what those damn Greek letters meant in Greek. But we both immediately came up with the translation the Fraternity brothers used: Fuck Those Bitches.

Once I was relaxed and starting on my second glass, I said, “Tell me, Ollie, what the heck is going on with this Second Lieutenant Moore?”
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Praetorio, you old bastard! What brings you to Korea?
Moore, eh?
Mate, I'll tell you, she shows a shit load of promise, with a tight little to die for, but she just won't relaaaaax! She strides around citing regulations and rules, instead of going with the flow. Don't get me wrong, she's provided us with a lot of entertainment over the last few days and I really hoped that the Roman orgy err party we had would melt those inhibitions. Then I thought a good thorough physical exam at the hands of Captain Tree would do the trick and get her in line, but instead she decked Tree and she's in the pokey on charges. Yes, I know, he deserved it but that's not the point! On top of that she's obviously been going behind my back and now you're here.
What do you think? A mock court martial? That could be a lot of fun and knock her into line. We can make her believe that flogging is still on the books! Image, that tight little bare and wiggling right in front of you and the whole camp!
C'mon, for old times' sake!
 
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April 6, 1951 PM MASH 4078th, Wo-on-Krux, Korea
Memo to: Self
From: Brigadier General P. Praetorio, Judge Advocate General's Corps, United States Army

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“Pokie,” said Phlebas, using my nickname from Phi Theta Beta, (I got it when I documented that I had “poked” every sister in Kappa Theta Nu, including two quite ugly ones), “Lieutenant Moore has been trouble since the moment she came here. Now don’t get me wrong, she’s beautiful with a killer body, including a tight little to die for! We all thought she showed a shitload of promise when she first arrived.”

“But she keeps complaining and citing regulations and rules, instead of going with the flow. If we get her pissed, she gets horny, but otherwise, she won’t RELAX! She takes the little, lighthearted fun the larrikins have and tries to make a Federal case out of it. I thought a good thorough physical exam at the hands of Captain Tree would do the trick and get her in line, but instead she decked Tree and she's in the pokey on charges. On top of that she's obviously been going behind my back and now you're here.”

“Hell, Mate, the Docs haven’t behaved half as badly as we did back at University! Remember when we tricked that freshmen coed into going to the basement of the Frat House to see the Big Surprise?”

“Fuck yes,” I said. “The Big Surprise was that we pumped her full of booze and tied her down, and the entire Fraternity got to enjoy her sweet favors before we invited the other Frats in at a fiver a pop! Over sixty guys in total, and a few gals, too! Good, Clean Fun, I’d say. She knew better than to complain. After all the Dean was a Phi Theta Beta!”

“It hasn’t yet been half that hard on Moore, but she just keeps complaining. Here, let me show you some photos we took the other night at the Roman orgy err…camp social, a little raffle and Moore as the prize.” Ollie turned to call his clerk when the little vermin entered unannounced and handed the Colonel a stack of photos. He quickly departed.

“How does he do that,” I asked.

“Beats me,” said Ollie who handed the photos to me. Shit a brick! I’d had too many women since Barb to have recalled her body perfectly, but those pictures brought back that pleasure time at the Mayflower Hotel and began to arouse my feelings for her (so to speak). In addition, there was the standard Army form, 784 stroke 56 dash A.

“She signed this?” I asked incredulously!

“At times she’s a real deadhead!”

We spent the next hour ogling the shots of her sexy body and sipping the ever finer tasting rum and planning what to do. Because of her formal complaint and my trip here, we would have to take official action.

“What do you think?” asked Phlebas. “A mock court martial? That could be a lot of fun and knock her into line. We can make her believe that flogging is still on the books! Image, that tight little bare and wiggling right in front of you and the whole camp! I understand that we couldn’t do it for real.” Ollie said, sounding very disappointed.

“Who says we can’t do anything we want,” I replied. “First, we should officially interview everyone concerned and take their statements. Then, I will convene a drumhead court martial. Under #18 of the Articles of War §156, I have the power to do so,” I assured Ollie. “And many punishments are available, including flogging. I have already had my Sergeant take steps to prepare for that eventuality!”

“Sick! You’re serious, aren’t you! At first, Pokie, I had wanted to give the girl a fair go,” said Ollie. “But she has rubbed everyone here the wrong way and even assaulted both officers and enlisted. It seems she just wants to pour kero on everyone and light it! I need to maintain order and discipline in my camp.”

“We will do that, Ollie. We will do that.”

Ollie took my hand, “Alright me ‘ol cobber! This will be great!”

Sergeant Connoisseurs returned just then. Colonel Phlebas said he would announce the interviews for the next day and I took my leave. Fortified with a substantial dose of rum, I retired to my quarters with strict orders not to be disturbed until morning.
 
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7 April 1951, 2130.

Well, Diary, you’ll find it hard to believe what has happened over the last 24 hours or so.

You’ll recall that at the time of my last entry, yesterday morning, I was happily enjoying my day confined to quarters for busting Captain Tree in the chops (they called it assaulting an officer, but that’s not fair). Oh, there were minor frustrations to be sure, but they were offset by the thrill of collecting more incriminating evidence against the cretins who inhabit this place, and by the blissful effects of consuming Joan’s Horny Potion and doing what comes naturally ... if you get my drift (wink).

As the afternoon wore on, I gathered from the PA announcements that the 4078th was receiving a steady stream of wounded from the front, where the Chinese had resumed their offensive. Which meant that another benefit of my confinement to quarters was that I was relieved of OR duty and didn’t have to listen to the surgeons’ sophomoric jokes or endure their tomfoolery. One would think these guys could act like responsible adults, wouldn’t one?

But the exciting thing, which I learned from listening to the buzz outside my tent, was that General Praetorius and his aide, Sergeant Connoisseurs, had finally arrived. My mind buzzed with anticipation.

I wanted to see Praetorius as soon as possible, but quickly came to realize that I had two immediate problems to overcome. One, I was naked and had nothing to wear because that miserable little Han fellow hadn’t turned up yet with my laundry. And two, I needed a box, or something like that, to carry all the incriminating evidence I’d collected for presentation to the General.

But with a little thought, helped by another cup of Tree’s brew, I’d soon hit upon a plan. I’d wait until dark and with everyone still in the OR, I’d slip over to the supply tent, find myself a nice cardboard box and a fresh uniform, and be back in my quarters without anyone noticing. Then I’d present myself and my evidence to General Praetorius.

So I whiled away the time till dusk, nipping away at Captain Tree’s hooch, maliciously cutting all his Madame Wu cigs in half on Captain Jolly’s scythe, and mischievously tying Captain Wragg’s and Goldman’s bedclothes in knots.

When all seemed quiet and darkness had fallen I snuck over to the supply tent, liberated a cardboard box and stuffed a fresh new uniform in it.

I should have known better, though. On my way out I was suddenly blinded by a flash bulb.

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Shit! I vowed then and there I was going to have General Praetorius throw the book at Corporal Rodent!

Safely back in my quarters, I rushed to get into uniform. I filled my box with “evidence”, waited till around 2300 and, with the doctors still in the OR, I set off in search of the VIP tent, where I assumed Praetorius would be billeted.

I located it without difficulty. Outside the tent I encountered two men engaged in animated comradely conversation in what sounded like German, and toying with a bull whip. Like a couple of schoolboys they were taking turns with cracking the tip of the thing on the ground and raising a lot of dust.

How curious, I thought as I barged right up to them and said in a demanding tone, “I’m Lieutenant Moore, and I wish to see General Praetorius immediately.”

“Gott im Himmel, du bist es!”

“What?” I said, cocking my head quizzically to one side.

“Sorry, I’m Sergeant Connoisseurs and I regret to inform you that Herr General has gone to bed. It is also my duty to inform you that he has decided to interview everyone involved in your complaint tomorrow. The interviews will take place here beginning at 0830. Everyone shall be heard in turn.”

“Oh, I see. Are you sure, I can’t see him tonight?”

“No, Lieutenant. Am Morgen. Goodnight!

Dejected, I left. Sergeant Connoisseurs and the other man ... I’m pretty sure he was from the motor pool and had a name like “Loxoru” ... resumed their conversation and cracking their whip.

Returning to my quarters, or “the swamp” as my tent mates dubbed the place, I went straight to bed in order to be fully rested and first in line the following morning.

I must have been an all-nighter in the OR because the Captains never returned, and when I awakened this morning “the swamp” was empty save for myself. I dressed, grabbed my box of evidence and rushed to the VIP tent.

Sergeant Connoisseurs was there to greet me.

“Ah, Lieutenant Moore. Please take a seat.” he said with a clicking of heels, a stiff little bow, and pointing to a neat row of camp stools lined up outside the VIP tent.

I nodded politely and took the first seat. Soon the others began arriving ... Captains Tree, Wragg, Jolly and Goldman ... Head Nurse Eulalia, and nurses FSG and Kathy ... Father Paul and Sister Messaline ... and Corporal Rodent.

While we waited for something to happen, Captain Tree made the usual ass of himself. Goldman cracked stupid jokes. Wragg scribbled poetry and Jolly whistled something that sounded an awful lot like a funeral dirge. The nurses and Corporal Rodent sat silently.

Soon Sergeant Connoisseurs announced the interviews were about to begin. I stood up expectantly.

“Setz dich!” snapped the Sergeant. “Captain Tree is first.”

I sat, straining to eavesdrop on what was being said inside, but all I heard was laughter. After about a quarter of an hour Tree emerged, patted me on the head and sauntered off. I stood expectantly, but was told again to sit while Captain Wragg was interviewed.

And so it went, each and everyone of them went before me, including the lowly Corporal Rodent ... while I sat and fumed.

The Captains all emerged sporting shit-eating grins, the nurses looking somewhat disheveled. Nurse FSG was still hitching up her pants and Nurse Kathy had gobs of whitish something or other smeared on her chin, and Head Nurse Eulalia’s blouse came out, her blouse buttoned one hole off and her face reddened. The Corporal snapped to attention when he emerged, snapped me a sloppy salute, and walked off chuckling to himself.

I was livid and stormed in loaded for bear when Sergeant Connoisseurs announced, at last, that it was my turn. Inside the tent, General Praetorius and Colonel Phlebas were seated behind a table, drinks in hand and puffing on cigars. Naked photos of me were spread on the table.

“This an outrage!” I exclaimed.

“Have you forgotten that one salutes one’s superior officers, Lieutenant?” prompted Sergeant Connoisseurs, who had followed me into the tent.

“Sorry.” I muttered crossly as I snapped off a sullen salute. “I’ve a lot on my mind and have waited outside all day to present my evidence.”

“We saved the best for last,” said Colonel Phlebas with a wink.

“Ok.” I said, calming down a bit. “Sergeant Connoisseurs, would you fetch the box of evidence I left outside on my camp stool, please?”

He left and returned empty handed.

“Well? Where is it?” I demanded.

“Gone,” he replied with a shrug.

“That can’t be!”

“If the Lieutenant has nothing concrete to present, that will be all,” intervened General Praetorius, shaking his head. “We already have the Lieutenant’s memo’s of complaint. Nothing more is needed from her. Dismissed!”

“What the fuck!” I exclaimed.

“Mind your language, Lieutenant. The interviews are over. We will reconvene tomorrow at 1300 hours as a military court to consider the very serious charges brought against you by your colleagues here at the 4078th. Sergeant Connoisseurs will take you into custody until then. Handcuff the Lieutenant, Sergeant, and have MP Emily assist you in escorting her to a place of detention pending trial. And, oh, by the way. You have been assigned defense counsel ... Lieutenant Erin T. Brave. She’s being choppered in as we speak.”

Nonplussed, I was led away to a small tent where one hand was freed but the other cuffed to the main tent post.

“Could you please fetch my diary from the swamp?” I requested of MP Emily after Sergeant Connoisseurs had departed.

“Sure. Why not?” she replied with a sympathetic smile.

So, dear Diary. That is how it went. Can you imagine anything worse?
 
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Barbaria1 said:
and by the blissful effects of consuming Joan’s Horny Potion and doing what comes naturally ... if you get my drift (wink).
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Medical science demands a detailed description. The New England Journal of Medicine is calling...
Barbaria1 said:
Goldman cracked stupid jokes.
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Like you would know the difference...
Barbaria1 said:
Nurse Kathy had gobs of whitish something or other smeared on her chin,
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Nurse Kathy shows the proper professional demeanor, unlike some..
 
windar said:
So we have rum and the lash. Too bad Moore doesn't go in for sodomy or one could think we are on a British Naval ship in Nelson's day...
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Or on a Pogues album.
Scary to think that this is over 30 years old!
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rum_Sodomy_&_the_Lash
I've got a vinyl copy in a box somewhere . . . . .



“Well? Where is it?” I demanded.

“Gone,” he replied with a shrug.

Excellent Well, Moore, wasting a superior officer's time is a serious matter. Very serious, as are the accusations you have made and your assault on Captain Tree. Be assured General Praetorius and I will deal with these matters with all speed. Sergeant, place the Lieutenant in detention and make sure she is securely confined. That will be all for now.
 
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Barbaria1 said:
I located it without difficulty. Outside the tent I encountered two men engaged in animated comradely conversation in what sounded like German, and toying with a bull whip. Like a couple of schoolboys they were taking turns with cracking the tip of the thing on the ground and raising a lot of dust.
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Aaah! Alte Zeiten! Memories of those days of field excercise.:Saeufer:
There was always a sports camp of BDM nearby!:cool:

bdm.jpg
No better incentive to teach a motorized unit to enforce a breakthrough and exploit it!:rolleyes:
Blitzkrieg was won there!:coti:

Barbaria1 said:
Ah, Lieutenant Moore. Please take a seat.” he said with a clicking of heels, a stiff little bow
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Old habits die hard!:D

Good chapter, Barb, and another funny pic by Madiosi!:clapping:
 
Loxuru said:
Aaah! Alte Zeiten! Memories of those days of field excercise.:Saeufer:
There was always a sports camp of BDM nearby!:cool:

View attachment 694614
No better incentive to teach a motorized unit to enforce a breakthrough and exploit it!:rolleyes:
Blitzkrieg was won there!:coti:


Old habits die hard!:D

Good chapter, Barb, and another funny pic by Madiosi!:clapping:
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Barb having also a little secret..... Ok, it was the time before a other war.
Madiosi-2018-462-BDM-Barb.jpg
 
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