Captain Roseanne Evelyn Peters had been sitting on a stiff orange chair in the airport for three hours, and she was bored. But at least it delayed her time only a few miles from the front...for a while. Roseanne was twenty-nine years old with short brown-blonde hair and sparkling brown eyes. She wore fatigues and no captain's bars. She was a petite 5'4" and 135 pounds. She sighed loudly, getting a dirty look from the guy next to her who was trying to sleep.

Roseanne pulled out a black-and-white snapshot from her battered Army-issue wallet. It was of her and her two brothers, Allan and Bobby, shortly before they enlisted and she was drafted. She would have been drafted into the WAC but for one small fact: she was a neurosurgeon. She hoped this MASH place would be understanding. Not likely, she thought bitterly. Her colleagues at Tokyo General Hospital had been cold and unfriendly, even in the OR. Tokyo's hospitals received most of the soldiers from the mobile army hospitals scattered around South Korea.

The loudspeaker hemmed and hawed, and through the static, crackled, "All those on Flight 124 report to Gate 3," and Roseanne picked up her Valpac and two duffel bags to meet her destiny at the 4077th MASH. She thought irrelevantly just before she stepped on the plane, I wonder if their food is any better than the cafeteria's. No, maybe not.

Major Margaret Houlihan stormed into Colonel Potter's outer office and screamed at Radar O'Reilly, "Where's my new nurse? She was supposed to be here three hours ago, and wounded are expected by 1900 hours! Get me-"

Radar was accustomed to the Major's temper tantrums. "I've already checked into it, ma'am, and the reason Captain Peters' plane is late is because of fog. However, it should arrive at Seoul by 1630 hours, and the chopper bringing her here should arrive be 1800 hours. Oh, and no wounded are expected. Your source was misinformed."

He peeked at the Major's face and was relieved because this explanation had managed to pacify her.

"Thank you, Corporal," she said briskly and walked out.

"Uh, you're welcome, Major," said Radar, confused, and for good reason. Margaret Houlihan rarely thanked anybody.

In the Swamp BJ and Hawkeye were enjoying homemade martinis. Unfortunately, so was Frank Burns.

"Hey," Hawkeye said, "didja hear there's a new nurse comin' in tonight?"

"Yeah. I also hear she's a babe. You gonna put the moves on her?"

"I dunno. Depends on if she takes an interest in me first."

"That's certainly a novel idea," sneered Frank. "So what you're saying is that you are going to let her dump you? Well, at least we can hope that this one has the sense to back down before you 'let her down easily'."

BJ and Hawkeye said simultaneously, "Shove it, Ferret Face."

"Of all the juvenile, vulgar things to-"

Hawkeye cut him off. "Listen up, okay? We just want to enjoy our drinks before we go over to Rosie's and get loaded. So give us some peace by not interfering with our conversation about the new broad. And while you're at it, go get botulism or something. It might give you some food for thought."

As Radar had predicted, Captain Peters did arrive by chopper at 1753 hours, (5:53 by civilian time) and promptly went to the Mess Tent to eat, lethal though Igor's "food" was. Roseanne thought upon why she hated the Army: Let's see, there's the food; the fighting; the food; the separation from families; the food; the ugly puke green everything. Oh well, she thought, at least I can get this- whatever this stuff is; I'm not about to guess- in before I have to go report to what's his name? Oh, yeah, Colonel Potter. After shoveling in the stone-cold glop (note: only the near-starving could eat it), she did report to the CO's office.

"Oh, good, you're here. I suppose you'll want to meet the head nurse right away."

"Not exactly. I know I'll have the chance to meet her later, in the OR. I'm more interested in meeting the chief surgeon. Where shall I unpack my things?"

Col. Potter was more than a little surprised at her words, but answered, "You'll be sleeping with the nurses, of course."

"But Colonel, why would I sleep with the nurses? I'm a surgeon."

"Could you excuse me for a second?" asked the Colonel, and he dashed over to the PA system and requested: "Major Houlihan and Captain Pierce to the CO's office."

A few minutes later Margaret and Hawkeye walked in, Hawkeye still with a martini in his hand.

Margaret asked, "What's up, Colonel?"

"I'm afraid we've run into a dilly of a pickle. Major, you asked for a nurse."

Roseanne said, "Instead you got me, a surgeon."

"It looks like we got screwed again," commented Hawkeye.

Roseanne said cheerfully, "Goddamn Army."

Margaret was confused by Roseanne's choice of dress. "If you're supposed to be a captain, where are your captain's bars?"

"Oh, Major," Roseanne said, hoping to evade the Major's question, "it's very simple. If I wore the bars every day, they would get worn out, and you know how the Army is about such things. It would take forever to replace them."

"Oh, I see," replied a dazed Margaret, and Roseanne smiled to herself.

"Now," said Col. Potter, "there's the question of where Captain Peters is going to bunk for the time being."

Hawkeye volunteered, "How 'bout the Swamp? We don't have room for another cot, but the Captain can cozy up with me."

"No. Major, as we have no choice, Captain Peters will be staying in your tent temporarily."

Roseanne smiled at Margaret. "Don't worry. I'm small quiet, and I don't eat a lot. But I do hope you'll be patient with me, because I have been known to make small yet frequent messes."

An hour later, after unpacking, Roseanne sat languidly on her cot in the Major's tent painting her nails in her favorite shade: Stoplight Red. She was suddenly aware of someone behind her. It was Nurse Baker, and she said, "We were wondering if you'd like to come over to our tent so you wouldn't be alone with the dragon lady."

"Sure. Thanks for inviting me. I'll be over as soon as my nails dry."

"No you don't. Oh, and can I borrow your nail polish?"

"Of course. But if you get to use it, you have to let anybody else who wants it use it."

"Deal."

Roseanne went over to the nurses tent that night for their ever-popular bad coffee and gossip. The next night she was invited over to the Swamp for martinis from the still.

"Whoa. That's good stuff, Beej. Nothing like at home," she gasped.

"And you can't get it anywhere else," said Hawkeye.

The next morning Roseanne woke up with a hangover like she'd never experienced before. When she moaned, "Oh, God," BJ grinned and said, "You can't get those anywhere else either."

The next day casualties poured in. One had a severe head wound and would have died had Roseanne not stepped in and saved him. He would never have the use of his left arm again, but he was alive. She worked on five more with head wounds and only lost one.

At breakfast Roseanne sat with Hawkeye and BJ. They were not surprised when she began to cry. "I've never seen so much destruction," she sobbed. "In Tokyo we got the kids from you, and it wasn't as bad because they had already been fixed up. Now they come in all shot to hell." Then, as quickly as her tears had come, they went away.

BJ changed the subject. "You know what I could go for right now? A glass of cold milk- real milk, not that powdered stuff- and a pan of Peg's brownies. I really miss them, almost as much as I miss Peg."

Hawkeye said, "I miss catching lobsters with Dad."

Roseanne said, "I miss being able to listen to thunder and think nothing of it. But now I won't be able to hear it without thinking of artillery fire. And I know that the only thing I'll leave with that I didn't come with is the face of every kid I work on."

With that, she got up and left. "That," BJ said, "used to be me. That same expression on my face, the words that came out of my mouth, was me after my first session in the OR."

Hawkeye said quietly, "It used to be all of us, from Colonel Potter on down to Rizzo. But we all got used to it, which, I think, scares me the most, to walk down a hall full of dying people and not notice them, like they are paintings or something."

A week later Roseanne requested permission to move into the Swamp. She was denied, as she knew she would be, but sat in the Swamp enjoying drinks with the Swampmen. Frank shuffled in after Post-Op duty and plunked down on his bed.

"Hiya, Ferret Face!" called Roseanne.

"What are you doing here?" he asked irritatedly.

"Aw, come on, Frank, Give a hello kiss to your new roomie. You'll be spending a lot of time with her from now on," teased Hawkeye.

"Who knows? Maybe he'll try to turn her into another Hot Lips," snickered BJ.

"And end up looking like Rocky Marciano when I'm through with him," answered Roseanne.

"I-what-roomie? Woman-me-roomie?" spluttered Frank, sounding like a broken record.

"Gotcha!" they all cried.

Luckily, before Frank could retaliate, Corporal Klinger sashayed in for mail call, resplendent in a pink evening gown. "Hello, all. Major Burns, a letter from Mrs. Major; looks to be a 6-pager this time. Captain Hunnicutt, a letter from your wife. And Captain Peters, a letter for you; not sure who it's from, though."

"Must be from Daddy. He absolutely refuses to put a return address. I've really never understood why."

BJ shook out crumbs from his envelope and sighed. "Well, at least it wasn't a whole cake," and everyone laughed.

As Roseanne scanned the contents of the letter her face drained of all color. "Excuse me," she whispered. She went outside, took three steps, and fainted.