**Note: This is dedicated to all of our Servicemen and Women overseas at this time of celebration. I salute you; we love you.**

Author: Sam

Story: B.J.’s Christmas Letter: 1 of 3

Series: n/a

Rating: G: Sad, but sweet

Summary: A letter from home winds up on the bulletin board, and everyone is affected by it.

Spoiler: Basically random, but not really anything specific to worry about.

Category: Angst, Fluff

Disclaimer: M*A*S*H is a trademark of Dr. Richard Hornberger and Twentieth Century Fox. I am in no way connected with these people, and I do not claim ownership to these characters, lands, or names. I have borrowed them to share a story... and most likely not a story any of them would have written, had they had the time or no. I am making no money from this, and it is just for my entertainment, and that of free entertainment to a select group of friends. Thank You.

Distribution: Please ask first?

Setting: M*A*S*H 4077 Compound

Song Note: Christmas Without Daddy by Loretta Lynn. (Complete, real lyrics at end of Fic.)

Feedback: Yes, please? Especially constructive. samwise_baggins@yahoo.co.uk

Webpage: http://www.geocities.com/samwise_baggins/index.html

“Mail call.”

Corporal Radar Walter O’Reilly walked into the Swamp with a few packages and a handful of letters. Major Frank Burns looked up and sneered. Striding quickly across the otherwise unoccupied tent, he demanded, “Well, Corporal, where’s my mail? Hand it over.” His hand shot out importantly.

“Uh,” Radar was stunned when the major pulled the post from his hands, “Hey!”

Frank ignored the indignant exclamation, busy sorting through the uncommonly small stack. “Pierce... Pierce... Hunnicut...” Frustrated, he tossed each letter in the general direction of his roommate’s bunk.

“Hey!” Radar reached to take the remaining mail back.

Burns was too quick for him, holding them above his shorter reach and still tossing those he found bearing someone else’s name. “Kellye... Straminsky... Klinger... Potter...” Annoyed, the Major slapped the pile against the younger man’s chest, reaching for the packages.

Letting the letters fall in order to rescue the parcels from the not-so-tender mercies of the superior officer, Radar backed away and turned his body to block Frank’s attempts. “There’s nothing here for you, Major Burns, Sir. I already looked.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s only a week until Christmas. Of course there’s something for me. Louise wouldn’t forget me.” He tried to grab again, knocking Radar in the face accidentally.

The Corporal’s glasses flew off and landed on the neatly made bunk at the Major’s side, but he still retained a firm grip on the packages in his arms. “Hey! That’s assault, Sir!”

“Serves you right for withholding my mail, Corporal. You’re going on report for this.”

“There isn’t any mail for you.” Radar glared at the fuzzy image of Frank Burns.

Fortunately before the doctor could make another attempt or the clerk say something that would get him legitimately reported, the door screeched open.

“What’s going on?”

Captain BJ Hunnicut took in the mess and the hostile atmosphere. “Are you picking on children again, Frank?”

“He won’t give me my mail,” came Frank’s defensive whine.

BJ stepped in and started picking up the scattered letters, glancing through them, when he saw Frank’s lunge from the corner of his eye. “Whoa!” Tossing the mail back onto Frank’s cot next to Radar’s glasses, the surgeon threw himself protectively in front of the Corporal. “Frank, give him a chance...”

“He doesn’t have any, Sir. I already told him that.” Radar stepped towards Hawkeye’s bunk behind him.

Again, BJ blocked Frank. “Calm down, Frank.” Both hands were firmly on the other surgeon’s shoulders, holding him back. “If Radar says there’s no mail, there’s no mail. He wouldn’t be hiding it.”

Frank frowned petulantly. “Oh, fine. But it’ll be here tomorrow. I’m expecting an important personal letter from my wife.” With that he gave one more glare in Radar’s direction then stormed from the tent. The door slammed behind him.

Radar slumped, letting a whoosh of air out. “Boy, he’s getting really nasty.”

The taller man smiled and nodded, briefly checking Radar’s bruised cheek. “Isn’t he always?” He retrieved the glasses and handed them over, then gathered the mail and quickly glanced through, his face falling when he didn’t see anything for himself. The doctor handed over the post.

With a frown, Radar skimmed through the mail and glanced up. “I was certain there was a letter for you, Sir.”

Hope sparked in BJ’s eyes. “Maybe it’s still on the floor...”

After putting the packages and letters on Hawkeye’s bunk, the pair started crawling around on the ground, looking for the missing letter. What neither knew was that it had landed outside the tent and had been trampled into the muddy snow.

Max Klinger was watching the ground, trying not to twist an ankle in the icy muck. He was truly reconsidering this particular outfit. Dressing as Mrs. Claus hadn’t been totally a bad idea, but the open-toed high heels had been sheer insanity, which is why he’d done it in the first place.

In surprise, Klinger’s attention was drawn from footwear to the more mysterious when he noticed a muddy envelope on the ground in front of the Swamp. He squatted down, mindful of the red velvet half-skirt with the faux-fur trim he was wearing. Plucking the messy envelope out of what was left of last night’s snow, Klinger frowned to see that any identifying names were smudged beyond translation, as well as the city of origin. That would make it difficult to return the letter to the proper owner.

Shrugging one shoulder as he stood once more, the Corporal started walking, trying to puzzle out how he could figure out who had lost a letter. Then the solution hit, like a thunderclap from out of the dull gray above. He opened the letter to read the receiver’s name.

What he read there made his heart want to break.

Finally having given up, temporarily, on finding the mysterious letter Radar claimed he’d gotten, BJ left the bunks and other furniture disarrayed and went off to find Burns. It was a distinct possibility that the Major had taken the letter. BJ felt it was best to confront him immediately, rather than later when he was in a more desperate mood.

The sight of so many people gathered around the Bulletin Board distracted the surgeon. He changed course for that direction. Curiosity was certainly not to be denied for once. It had to be something extremely important; Hawkeye’s desperate pleas for a date never produced such a turn out. Luck was with him, as well; Frank was standing among the crowd.

Being tall, BJ Hunnicut could see over many a head. What he saw was a letter with a smudge for a receiver’s name. The paper itself was stained with a great amount of wet, snowy mud, and it seemed the letter had been hung on the Board to dry. Still, due to that same curiosity, BJ decided to step a bit closer and read the letter before accosting Frank for his own.

As he moved closer, he noticed many a staff member in tears. What had happened? Was the letter actually bad news for the entire camp? Even more puzzling was the reaction he received. People respectfully parted, giving him clear access to the Board’s contents. They squeezed his arm, patted his back, or murmured so softly that he couldn’t understand them. What the...?

Standing in front of the dirty, wet letter, BJ tore his eyes from the oddly acting group. He was aware of Hawkeye slinking up next to him, but ignored his best friend in favor of finding out what all this was about. After all, the entire crowd was acting as if he needed some sort of support or comfort.

He read the letter:

Darling (name smudged out),

Peg & Erin

BJ felt shell-shocked. An arm around his shoulders drew his eyes reluctantly from his now found letter. Hawkeye had tears in his eyes as he reached to retrieve the letter. A murmur of disappointment went through the crowd, stirring BJ to action. He placed a hand on his friend’s arm. “No, leave it. I’ll get it later.”

Hawkeye turned a puzzled frown on BJ, but the doctor went on to explain. “I think Peg speaks for everyone’s families this time. They all need to know how much they’re loved and missed. Let them read it.”

And with that, he turned back to his letter on the Bulletin Board, kissed his fingers, and touched them to his family’s names. “I love you; stay safe.”

BJ walked away.

~~*~~*~~*