Author: Sam

Story: I Spy With My Little G.I.: 14 of 17

Series: The War Within

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

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

It quickly became apparent that there were more patients than staff, as was normally the case. At least two hours of straight triage and surgery passed with intense concentration and the occasional quip. Father Mulcahy, Radar, and Klinger were rushing around trying to help as best they could, not that anyone was able to be spared from duty with the patients. All except Colonel Flagg, that is.

Flagg was pretty much ignored since he’d cleverly donned a surgical mask. He’d done it as part of a disguise, but it hadn’t fooled anyone; however, since he’d been staying out of the way and was properly gowned and masked, nobody bothered to throw him out of the O.R. Thus, Flagg was slinking around the O.R., intently watching all of the various, and at times gory, activity.

It was as the third hour began that Hawkeye became aware that there was a fifth person operating in the room. With only four staff surgeons, that didn’t add up. Quickly, he scanned the room, looking for the Intelligence Officer. If that man had gone so far in his disguise as to actually start cutting someone... but, no, Colonel Flagg was standing off to the side, handing nurses sponges as asked. It was odd to see the man actually helping, rather than hindering, but Hawkeye wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth... or a gift loon, as it were.

Taking a long moment to study the mysterious fifth surgeon, wondering if perhaps a nurse had gotten the gumption to attempt surgery untrained, Hawkeye took in the small stature and the slow movements. The mystery person was also leaning one hip against the table, something no surgeon in his right mind would do as one injudicious move could contaminate the surgical area. As Hawkeye watched, the small surgeon finished closing with a particular twist. Dawning realization came over the Head Surgeon.

Leaning over to Margaret Houlihan, who was by far the best nurse they had... she was Head Nurse, after all... Pierce whispered, “Hey, Margaret, go help Doctor Standish. He’s injured.” He indicated the smallest surgeon with a flick of his head.

Surprised, Margaret glanced over and noticed with disapproval how the petite figure leaned against the table, moving slowly. She frowned behind her mask. True, every move Doctor Standish made was appropriate, just too slow for their surgery. She turned back to Hawkeye. “Of course, Doc...” but she was not to go in aid of the doctor with the belly injury. Hawkeye’s patient suddenly jerked, despite the anesthesia, and it was all she could do to help with putting him back under, threatening the nurse in charge of anesthesia with being written up after the patients were all helped.

Hawkeye, too, got lost in his work once more, almost forgetting the injured visiting surgeon as he worked to save lives in less than adequate conditions. Emil Standish was left to work with the more than able assistance of Nurse Kelleye and Corporal Klinger. It actually seemed a beneficial setup, as Emil was only taking the less serious yet still necessary surgeries, knowing she was too injured, and too slow with the pain medicine, to do anything drastic.

Kelleye was quiet as she helped Emil, efficient and helpful with suggestions and encouragement. Klinger, for his part, didn’t even need to be asked to jump forward and wipe Emil’s sweaty forehead or give her a sip of water. Neither knew the doctor had been hurt in that attack of Mathius’, but somehow they both recognized that the doctor wasn’t in peak condition... perhaps it was how slow those brilliant hands moved.

The hours continued to wear on, patients being brought in and out as they were prepped, operated on, and send to Post Op for recovery. Radar was keeping lists of wounded, trying to get units and backgrounds so he could match them up later, when there was more time. Right by his side was Father Mulcahy, speaking to the wounded and the staff, his quiet gentleness giving strength to the flagging energies of the doctors, nurses, and corpsmen. He hadn’t had to perform Last Rites yet that night, and hoped not to. Prayers were a constant order of the day for the man of God.

Finally, sometime in the middle of the almost daily ordeal, Sam Flagg slipped out of the O.R.