"It just popped into my head. I got a buddy back home who's a psychiatrist. He had a patient who was an epileptic, and every time her husband tried her she threw a fit. All the guy had to do was plug himself in and the world went crazy. To me it always sounded like a great bit. For all I know, they may have an epileptic whore in Seoul. Anyway we might be able to use the idea. How do we handle the psychiatrist?"
Trapper was thinking, which was vaguely recognized by his colleagues, so silence ensued for several minutes. Finally he spoke.
"We tell the headshrinker nothing except name, rank, serial number, and we want to get fixed up with the epileptic whore."
Silence again, while Duke and Hawkeye mulled it over. "Whadda you think?" asked Trapper.
"I think Henry'll be back in four days," said Duke, "and that's how long we'll get away with this crap."
"I think it's OK," said Hawkeye. "Let's tell the shrink the broad's at Mrs. Lee's. I don't figure to spend four days down there without some psycho-sexual-physiological relief."
"I believe," said Trapper John, "that the group is in full accord in that area."
Trapper mixed another round of drinks. A few moments passed before Hawkeye spoke again.
"I figure we'd better think this over a little more," he said. "Psychiatrists are never overly troubled with the smarts, but even the dumbest one is going to smell a rat if we all go in and say the same thing. I kind of have a yen for this deal. Why don't you guys tell the shrink that you're OK, that you've been riding along to protect me, and that I've suddenly become much worse. I think I can drive whatever simple son-of-a-bitch we encounter out of his mind."
"I guess you're right, Hawk," Trapper agreed. "You got the ball."
"How y'all figure to handle it?" asked Duke.
"Easy," said the Hawk. "I'll talk gibberish to him. All you guys got to do is be very serious, impress him with your virtue, and emphasize that I've been effective and valuable until now, and you love me dearly. After an interview with him I'll meet you at Mrs. Lee's."
As Colonel DeLong had promised, the transportation arrived at 8:00 a.m., and the nuts were taken to the psychiatric section of the 325th Evacuation Hospital in Yong-Dong-Po. Duke and Trapper walked in, solicitously leading Hawkeye. They were to see Major Haskell, the Chief of Psychiatry. Fortunately he had only been in Korea for two weeks, and news of the 4077th MASH had not reached him.
Trapper and Duke arranged to meet him first, explained that they had gone along with the mermaid gag in the hope of straightening Captain Pierce out, and that they had submitted to this ordeal themselves in the hope that he would snap out of it at the last moment. However, it was clear, just from his behavior in the last twelve hours, that Pierce's sanity had deteriorated alarmingly. They hoped that the Major would do everything possible to see that proper treatment was obtained without delay.
"We've been close to this man, Major," said Duke. "He's been a dedicated surgeon. He's been a tower of strength to us. Now he needs help. We know you'll do your best."
"I appreciate your help, gentlemen," Major Haskell assured them, "and I have some idea of how close the three of you have been. I understand the emotional involvement that men in your situation develop with one another. However, I can tell from the way you've presented this story that you have a grasp of the problem. I think you realize, and if you don't I must warn you, that this is a serious problem. It sounds to me like some form of schizophrenia, and in this sort of case, with the sudden deterioration you've described, the prognosis is usually not good."
"Oh," the Duke said.
"By the way," the Major continued, "I have Colonel DeLong's report here. He mentions something about an epileptic whore. What's that all about?"
"They got one at Mrs. Lee's," Trapper told him. "I hear she's real wild. We'll appreciate whatever you can do for Captain Pierce."
Duke and Trapper left, and Hawkeye was led in. The Major invited him to sit down and offered him a cigarette. "How do you feel today, Captain?"
"I have sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat. I am lifting out the hearts of men. Hey, you got any Harry James records?"
Major Haskell took a deep breath and ignored Captain Pierce's question.
"Tell me about yourself, Captain. Who are you?"
"Hawkeye Pierce."
"I know, but beyond that, what are you?"
"I'm the world's greatest short putter, to say nothing of being a descendant of Robert Ford,"
"Who was he?"
"The dirty little coward who shot Mr. Howard."
"Why have you come down to see me today?"
"I ain't come down to see you. I came for the action."
"Do you mean the epileptic whore?"
"You betcher ever-lovin' A, Major."
"Captain, we're getting away from our subject. Something seems to have happened to you since Colonel DeLong took over your hospital."
"That's right, Sir. He's against me."
"What makes you think so?"
"The dirty mudder was gonna steal my mermaid."
"Is there anything else about Colonel DeLong that bothers you?"
"Yeah. He reminds me of my old man."
"I see," said Major Haskell. "Now perhaps we are getting somewhere. In what way does he remind you of your father?"
"He doesn't play tennis."
"Why doesn't your father play tennis?" Major Haskell asked, sort of by reflex, and regretted the question even before the answer.
"Because the harpies of the shore have plucked the eagle of the sea," Hawkeye explained. "He can't take the ball on the rise no more. They have laid poor Jesse in his grave."
"I see," answered the Major. "Captain Pierce, tell me about yourself. Feel free to talk. I want to help you. Perhaps if you'd just relax and open up and let the words come, you'd feel better and I'd be able to help you."
"Dad, I feel great."
"Talk to me anyhow, Captain. Just talk about anything that comes into your head."
"Death is an elephant, torch-eyed and horrible, foam-flanked and terrible," Hawkeye commented.
Major Haskell lit a cigarette.
"You nervous or something?" asked Hawkeye.
"Not at all," the Major replied, nervously.
"Hey, Dad, I'll give you a nice buy on an elephant. Velly clean. Takes penicillim. Finest kind."
"Captain Pierce, what are you up to? Frankly, I can't decide whether you're crazy or just some kind of screwball."
"Well, why don't you mull it over for a while. You got anything to trade in?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you want a clean deal on a clean elephant, or you got some kind of used up elephant you wanta stick me with in return for my best elephant?"
"Look, Captain Pierce—"
"You hate me, don't you?" said Hawkeye. "Just like Duke and Trapper hate me."
"I'm sure no one hates you, Captain."
"They sure as hell do."
"Why?"
"Because I'm a great mahout. I'm an elephant boy. That's all I ever wanted to be but because the elephants like me so good, the people all hate me."
"Captain Pierce, I think we'll send you to the States for treatment."
"Finest Kind," said Hawkeye, rising, and added: "Be swift my soul to answer him, be jubilant my feet," and cut out on swift, jubilant feet for Mrs. Lee's where he found Duke and Trapper John at lunch, or rather at pre-lunch martinis. They appeared unusually happy.
"Here's the nut," said Trapper. "How do they handle you hopelessly deteriorated schizophrenics nowadays?"
"The shrinker said he was gonna send me back to the States," Hawkeye informed them. "Maybe I oughta take him up on it. I don't know how they treat it, and I don't plan to find out. Now tell me why you guys look so happy."
"You'll never believe it, Hawk," Trapper filled him in, "but Mrs. Lee actually has an epileptic whore, or at least a babe who has some kind of convulsion every time she entertains a client. She's been scaring the customers silly,
but with proper publicity she should go good."
Duke and Trapper had already told Mrs. Lee of the potential value of her convulsing employee. They had predicted that there would be some phone calls before long, inquiring as to her existence and availability. When the phone rang, it was answered by Mrs. Lee, whose round cherubic face broke into a wide smile as she nodded her head rapidly.
"Epileptic whore hava yes," she assured the party on the other end of the phone. "Velly clean, school teacher."
Mrs. Lee described all her girls as "velly clean." Beyond that, they were divided into three subcategories: movie actresses, cherry girls and school teachers. A girl's status varied with Mrs. Lee's usually shrewd estimate of the customer's needs.
There was a commotion at the front entrance as Major Haskell appeared with two M.P.'s. Hawkeye was led to an area of seclusion by Mrs. Lee as Major Haskell and his troops entered the dining room.
"Has Captain Pierce been here?" he demanded of Trapper and Duke.
"Hell, no," said Duke. "We figured you all had him under wraps. How'd he get away?"
"I don't know," said Haskell, "but that boy is way out. It's imperative that I find him."
"If I were you, I'd search the waterfront," suggested Trapper. "He might be looking for mermaids."
"How about you fellows helping out? You said he meant everything to you. I should think you'd help me find him before he harms himself or someone else."
"If he's all that crazy, the hell with him," said Trapper. "Yeah," the Duke said. "We got appointments with the epileptic whore anyway."
"I'm tired of hearing about the epileptic whore," stated the Major. "What's it all about anyhow?"
"Epileptic whore hava yes, Major," smiled Mrs. Lee. "Velly clean, school teacher. Finest Kind."
Major Haskell perked his ears at the last expression, but before he could draw any conclusions Trapper started talking.
"Major," he said, "a guy in your business really should take a crack at this broad out of professional interest. It's an opportunity that's unlikely to come your way again. You could make a name for yourself writing papers about her."
The Major sat down, ordered a drink and excused the M.P.'s. "You may have a point, gentlemen. Can you fix me up? It should be quite an interesting case."
"The fastest ride in the Far East Command," Trapper assured him.
"And y'all may have my reservation," Duke told him. "I was on for three o'clock, but I can see that it'll mean more to you all."
"That's very kind of you, Captain," replied Major Haskell.
They had a few more drinks, ate an extended lunch, and at 3:00 p.m. Major Haskell went to keep his appointment.
"Good luck," said Trapper. "Don't break your stem."
"Y'all watch out when she sunfishes," warned Duke.
Within fifteen minutes the Major, looking somewhat pale and drawn, reappeared and nervously ordered a double Scotch.
"That was quick," said Duke. "Major, y'all must be one of them short-time skivvy boys."
The Major did not reply.
"Come on, Major," urged Trapper, "how was it?"
"I don't think it's epilepsy. I think it's a purely hysterical convulsion," replied the Major.
"Yeah, but how was it?" insisted Duke.
"Tremendous," said the Major and departed.
For the next two days, business at Mrs. Lee's was big. The epileptic whore was in popular demand. The Swampmen hung around, observed with interest, interviewed many of the survivors, but did not avail themselves of her services.
On the second day, Hawkeye asked, "When are you guys gonna try her?"
"Maybe tomorrow," answered Trapper.
"What's the hurry?" asked Duke. "When y'all gonna try her yourself?"
"Never," said Hawkeye. "I'm a man of simple needs, which have already been adequately fulfilled for the time being."
On the third day Colonel Henry Blake, returning to his duties as C.O. of the 4077th MASH, stopped at the 325th Evac, called his outfit and requested transportation. He spoke to Colonel DeLong, who told him that the Swampmen were undergoing psychiatric evaluation at the 325th Evac.
Henry laughed with delight, but to himself. He sought out Major Haskell, who told him that McIntyre and Forrest were at Mrs. Lee's but that Pierce had dropped from sight.
"Don't worry, Major, they're all at Mrs. Lee's. I'll go over there. When my driver comes would you be kind enough to send him to pick us up?"
"I'm sorry, Colonel, but even if Pierce can be found, I couldn't possibly allow him to return to duty. I'm sure, when you see him, you'll agree with me."
"Pierce isn't any crazier now than he's ever been," Henry assured him. "Don't let him worry you, Major."
"I'll come with you if I may," said Haskell.
They found the Swampmen in Mrs. Lee's bar.
"Hiya, Henry. How they goin'?" asked Hawkeye. "I bet you got plenty in Tokyo, didn't you?"
"Shut up, Pierce. What's this all about?"
"I went ape," said Hawkeye, nodding to Major Haskell. "Ask him."
"I think you'd better come with me, Pierce," said Major Haskell.
Trapper joined in. "Henry doesn't believe you, Hawk. Say something in schizophrenic."
"My father was the keeper of the Eddy stone light. He slept with a mermaid one fine night. Out of that union there came three—a porpoise and a porgy, and the other was me," replied Hawkeye.
"See what we mean?" said Duke.
Colonel Blake turned to Major Haskell. "I'll be responsible for him. Believe me, you've been had. Consider yourself lucky. I've been putting up with this kind of crap for months. You're only had a couple of hours of it."
Hawkeye summoned Mrs. Lee and whispered in her ear. Mrs. Lee asked to see the Colonel in private and led him upstairs to a certain room as Hawkeye ordered drinks for all and spoke to Major Haskell: "I hate to disappoint you, Dad, but I'm not quite as foolish as I led you to believe. I'm going back to the MASH with the rest of them as soon as Henry has enjoyed the Fastest Ride in the Far East Command. Have a drink with me, and let there be no moaning at the bar ere we leave Mrs. Lee."
"OK," said Haskell, "but I still don't think you're normal."
"I ain't. Normal people go crazy in this place."
While they were all on their second round of drinks, Colonel Blake returned.
"Well?" said Trapper John.
"'Beware the Jabberwock, my son!'" said Colonel Blake, addressing Major Haskell, and then: "'The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird and shun the frumious Bandersnatch!'"
"Major," Hawkeye said to Haskell, "this looks like something right down your alley."
"Yeah, Major," the Duke said, "y'all been educated to handle this kinda thing, and we gotta get out of here."
12
With the end of summer, the baseball that the Swampmen had tossed and batted around occasionally to get some exercise and kill some time, took on air and a new shape. It became a football and an object of pursuit as, in their idle moments, they passed and kicked it back and forth and ran one another from one end of the ball field to the other to cries of: "How to go!"—"Nice grab!"—"Hawk, this time I'll fake to the Duke and you fake the block on the tackle and I'll hit you with it over the middle."—"Way to go!"—"Way to throw! Who ever heard of Sammy Baugh?"
"You know what we ought to do?" Hawkeye said, as they came puffing back into The Swamp one afternoon.
"Have a drink," the Duke said.
"No," Hawkeye said. "We oughta get us up a football team."
"And play who?" Duke said.
"The Chicago Bears," Trapper said. "It'd be a way to get home."
"No, thanks," Duke said. "I'd rather get killed over here."
"Listen, you guys," Hawkeye said. "I'm serious. We're all starting to get stirry again. We need something to do. There's that big guy named Vollmer over in Supply played center for Nebraska. Jeeter was a second string halfback at Oklahoma …"
"God help us," Trapper said.
/> "There's Pete Rizzo."
"He was a Three-I infielder," Duke said.
"But he played football in high school."
"But who do we play?" Duke said.
"Hot-Lips Houlihan's Green Bay Pachyderms," Trapper Said.
"I want Knocko McCarthy on our side," the Duke said.
"Now, wait a minute," Hawkeye said. "I'm serious. They've got some kind of a league over here. The 325th Evac in Yong-Dong-Po claim they're champions because last year they beat two other teams. I know where we can get a real ringer, and if we can beat them we can clean up on some bets."
"You're nuts," Trapper said.
"Yeah," the Duke said, "and who's the ringer?"
"You ever hear of Oliver Wendell Jones?" asked Hawkeye.
"No," Trapper answered.
"Sounds like a nigra," said Duke.
"Never mind the racial prejudice. You ever hear of Spearchucker Jones?"
"Yeah," Trapper said.
"Maybe the best fullback in pro ball since Nagurski," Hawkeye said.
"Okay," Trapper said, "but what's he got to do with us?"
"You haven't read much about him lately, have you?" Hawkeye said.
"Probably just a flash," Duke said.
"Flash hell," Hawkeye said. "You want to know why you haven't heard about him?"
"Yeah," Duke said. "Tell us."
"No, don't tell us," Trapper said. "We'd like to spend all our spare time guessing."
"You haven't heard of Spearchucker Jones lately," Hawk-eye said, "because his real name is Dr. Oliver Wendell Jones, and he's the neurosurgeon at the 72nd Evacuation Hospital in Taegu."
"Damn," Trapper said.
"Yeah," Duke said.
"But how come," Trapper, mixing the drinks now, wanted to know, "you're such an expert on all this?"
"Because," Hawkeye said, "when I was in Taegu before they dragged me kicking and screaming up here I roomed with Spearchucker. He went to some jerkwater colored college, but he did well enough to get into med school. He had played football in college, but no one had ever seen him. When he got out of med school he got married, and he wanted to take a residency. He needed some dough so he started playing semi-pro ball on weekends around New Jersey. Somebody scouted him and the Philadelphia Eagles signed him. He was great even though he couldn't work at it full time. He kept it a secret about being a doctor, but it would have leaked out fast if he hadn't been drafted just as he was getting a reputation."
M*A*S*H Page 13
