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M*A*S*H DIARY

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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.
Not fair! She was supposed to be assisting me this time out, and listening to my sophomoric tomfoolery!
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...
These things never seem to start punctually.

And, oh, by the way. You have been assigned defense counsel ... Lieutenant Erin
I think I know her. :D She's very dedicated. Careless, losing all the evidence I thought, Hotli..., er, ...pants...um, Lieutenant.
 
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.

View attachment 694415

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?
I sure hope I can get you off the hook?
 
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