Chapter Four.

Roger was restless. The three days had gone by, and no footballs to throw. He was getting antsy to do SOMETHING.

The physician on duty came by to check his chart notes. Again. This time it was Dr. Hunnicutt. How many doctors worked at a MASH, he wondered.

BJ looked over the extensive notes on Healey's recovery. The liver and chest wounds were healing nicely, no signs of infection. The patient had feeling and movement in the lower extremities as well.

Roger watched the doctor, and finally asked, "Doctor, WHEN am I going to be able to do anything? My men are all gone, and I'm hoping I still have a unit when I get out of here!"

BJ smiled at him, understanding the younger man's anxiety on getting out. Engineers liked to DO things, not just lay about helplessly as this man had done for four days.

"Dr. Winchester is your physician. I'll talk to him about your recovery, and when you can start the physical therapy the nurses have written up for you. Let me look you over one more time, and if everything's all right, you can at least go ambulatory."

He carefully pulled away the bandages on Healey's chest and abdomen and poked around. "Does this hurt?"

"Stings a little, but it's not a deep ache as it has been."

"Good, good." His fingers continued to probe gently, but expertly, around the closed wounds. No swelling and redness. Movement in a wheelchair shouldn't exacerbate the damage. He reached down and carefully tickled the bottom of Roger's foot.

The twitch told him the feeling was still there. At least he didn't scrape a pen on me, Roger thought, chuckling at the sensation.

"Feeling is there," BJ said. "We should let you go in a chair at least. The nurses, like I said, will work with you on walking. Lying prone is one thing, but standing upright could put additional pressure on your spinal column. That's why we're being so cautious."

"Yes, sir. If I could at least GO somewhere, it'd make this visit a lot less boring."

"Hmmmm, let's see..." BJ checked his watch. "We're having our weekly poker game in a couple hours, feel like losing some money, Healey?"

Roger grinned, "Yes, SIR!"

"And don't bother with the 'sir,' Healey, I'm just a doctor the Army glommed onto. Call me BJ. Looks like we'll be hanging out for a while, at least a week. You're healing nicely, but that spine... well, you know what's coming."

"Sure, BJ." This guy was nice. Not regular Army like he was, but drafted into service like so many were. Hawkeye had already insisted he drop the "sir" and "Captain" routine as well.

Roger had volunteered soon after graduating from college, and then the Korean conflict began months later. He'd learned BJ and Hawkeye, the Chief Surgeon, were Captains. Neither wore their rank insignia. Being doctors was obviously more important to them than being Captains. Winchester was a Major because he'd volunteered, and landed a sweet posting at a Tokyo hospital. Roger learned via scuttlebutt that Winchester ended up at the 4077th after annoying one too many Colonels in Tokyo. He was learning a LOT about the 4077th by lying in his cot and listening to their banter.

Colonel Potter and Major Houlihan were regular Army all the way. Somewhere between cavalry and being the C.O. of a MASH unit, Potter had attended medical school and became an excellent surgeon, with many decades of practice behind him. Margaret managed to combine being a Major in this man's Army and a compassionate and caring Chief Nurse.

Roger couldn't wait to get out of that cot. He saw BJ motion to one of the orderlies.

"Klinger! Can you bring that over here? The Lieutenant's going ambulatory this afternoon."

Roger didn't know what to make of Corporal Klinger. The man wore an Army uniform, yes, but he accessorized it with a yellow scarf and big hoop earrings. Toledo, Ohio. Go figure. Who was Roger to judge? Nobody at the 4077th seemed to think it strange and unusual, so he mentally shrugged and figured, eh, different strokes.

Klinger smiled as he approached with the wheelchair. "My condolences, Lt. Healey."

Roger laughed, "For what?"

"For subjecting you to this hellhole called the 4077th MASH."

"I've looked at these walls for four days, ANYTHING will be an improvement!"

Klinger looked dubious. "If you say so, sir."

He and BJ helped Roger up. Roger realized now, sitting up, that the spinal column bruising was worse than they had realized. He'd lain prone for so many days, that sitting up made him dizzy. He started to fall back.

"Klinger!" BJ yelled as the two men caught him and gently laid him down again. Charles walked in just in time to see what happened.

"HUNNICUTT! What do you think you're DOING with my patient?" he demanded.

Charles was furious. To have another doctor PRESUME to determine HIS patient was ready to go ambulatory, without consulting him first? Healey's collapse was evidence that he was not ready.

BJ stood to face Charles, who was glaring at him. BJ realized he'd misjudged Healey's readiness to get up and move, even in a wheelchair.

"Charles, I..."

Before BJ could continue, Roger spoke up.

"Doctor Winchester, please, it's my fault. I thought I was ready to get up and do something, Dr. Hunnicutt checked me over thoroughly. I was being a pest."

Charles looked at his patient, the anger sparking in his eyes. "Pest or no, it's not up to you OR Dr. Hunnicutt to determine when you are ready to leave that bed. It is up to ME."

Roger said, with respect, "Yes, sir, I understand that. I was getting anxious to get up or start my physical therapy you mentioned, just to do something. Sir."

Charles relented and relaxed, the anger gone. "Yes, Lieutenant, you are correct. You should be ready to go ambulatory. Slow and easy though, not jumping into it."

He motioned to Klinger and BJ to help him with Roger once more. This time, Roger was ready for the possible vertigo and even helped pull himself up. The muscles in his chest and abdomen complained, but it wasn't so painful that he couldn't use them.

"Now, sit there for a few moments, get an idea of how it feels. Any unusual pains?"

"No, sir. Pretty achey all over, but that's it. I think I almost fainted from having been lying down so long."

"Hypotension, yes. Dr. Hunnicutt should have thought of that." He ignored BJ's glare.

Charles stood and motioned for BJ and Klinger to proceed with moving Healey into the wheelchair. Now that HE had approved of such a move, he was no longer angry at another doctor usurping his authority. Roger tried to help with the process, but his legs, although he could move them, didn't seem to want to support him. The men got him settled in and propped his feet on the foot rests.

"There you go, Healey!" BJ said. He was used to Charles' little theatrics, although he'd realized Charles had the right to be annoyed this time. Oh well, he'll get over it, he always does.

"Klinger, take him around the camp, give him the grand tour. He's going to join us for the game tonight at the Swamp," BJ said. He looked at Charles to be sure that was all right.

"Yes, that should be an interesting diversion. I, of course, will be on duty."

A couple hours later, Roger was in the crowded Swamp. The weekly poker game was immensely popular, drawing officers and enlisted personnel alike. Colonel Potter was there, as well as Major Houlihan, Doctors Pierce and Hunnicutt, Corporals Klinger and O'Reilly, Father Mulcahy and Dr. Sidney Freedman, a visiting Major.

Roger enjoyed how these people got along, such a diverse group and having so much fun together. They'd set him in a prime spot in his wheelchair so he wouldn't miss anything. Major Freedman, he found out, was a psychiatrist that the unit often called upon to deal with the wounded and even their own mental health. Roger felt the older man's eyes on him as the evening went on.

Sidney watched the young lieutenant, who was sitting quietly listening to the 4077th staff. He exhibited a wonderful sense of humor, playing along with Hawkeye and BJ in their antics. He was very relaxed and didn't seem distressed that he was stuck in a wheelchair, away from his unit and his usual duties.

"So, Healey, is this the first time you've been wounded?" Sidney asked quietly.

"Yes, sir, first time. Hopefully last time!"

"Anxious to get back to your unit?"

"Yes, if I still HAVE a unit!"

Sidney knew he would. He'd read about the Lieutenant after the squadron had drawn enemy fire. Roger probably didn't recall all that happened, but because of his foresight and command, many of the men were saved who may've very well have been killed. Sidney also knew Roger was put in for a Purple Heart, and probably other medals as well for his bravery.

Sidney smiled. "I'm sure you will, Lieutenant."

Roger's eyes lit up, "I wish I could remember the helicopter ride in here, but I was kind of out of it. I love choppers, and never get tired of seeing them. I'm hoping some day, when this 'conflict' is over, I can learn to fly as well!"

Sidney nodded his head, still smiling. Very resilient young man. Took his command and work seriously, but wasn't so regular Army that he couldn't relax with the higher ups and the enlisted personnel. Amiable guy, and intelligent as well. He'd do well in the Army, maybe even flying some day.

Postscript:

Major Freedman's assessment of Lieutenant Roger E. Healey was accurate.

Soon after the Korean Conflict, Healey went to helicopter flight school. He exhibited such excellent skills as a helicopter pilot that he was one of the lucky few Army officers assigned to Test Pilot School at Edwards AFB, California, where he met the man who would become his best friend, Lt. Anthony Nelson. Healey and his US Army aircrew went on to earn the "Top Gun" Award in a USAF yearly competition. Soon after, he and Nelson learned of the new NASA astronaut training program and applied together.

The rest, as they say, is history.

(Author's note: You can read about Roger's and Tony's early and later years as best friends, including the Top Gun competition, in my "I Dream of Jeannie" fanfic "The Thousandth Man.")