It was BJ who caught sight of her first. He had changed into a faded pink shirt and the standard drab pants, while Hawkeye still wore his bathrobe over fatigues. Klinger also was out of uniform. His Mudhens jersey was so white that Nellie had to blink back for a moment when she approached. Only the Colonel was properly dressed.

The warm sun beat down on her exposed arms. Her choice of tank top meant less sweat hopefully, but she would need to be careful in the sun. She saw BJ gesture towards her. The movement was small, almost secret.

"Ah, look who it is," Hawkeye said. "The soap snatcher."

Nellie just smiled, blinking against the sun and moving into a bit of shade near the door to Post Op. She shook her head. "Soap snatcher? I didn't snatch anything."

Colonel Potter shook his head. "You started something here, Major. These two won't forget this. Better watch your behind." With a quiet snicker, he left them alone. "I'm taking Sophie out. Try not to kill each other while I'm gone. I'd hate to make Klinger fill out all that paperwork."

"That I can agree with," Klinger said. Then he turned back to the two Captains. "I'll have the supplies you requested delivered to your tent as soon as I can requisition them."

Nellie smiled. "Supplies?" She crossed her arms over her chest. Already she could feel the sweat forming beneath her shirt in the middle. "Trying to get back at me?"

"We can't tell you that now can we?" BJ said.

Hawkeye agreed. "You'll get what you deserve. That's truth, justice, and the American way."

"A super catch phrase. Maybe you should patent that," quipped BJ. He went to continue, but was interrupted by a voice over the PA.

"A new offensive is to be started by the Americans. Hill 403 will be providing us casualties within 36 hours. Please don't get too drunk!"

As the announcement ended, the camp seemed to collectively release a breath. Everyone who Nellie could see, nurses and orderlies and surgeons, had paused at the PA announcement. Now they returned to normal.

Nellie's heart raced. She gripped her palms tightly and then released, letting her breath go as she did so. Sidney had taught her several techniques to help with stress for herself and Jack when they'd been in Baltimore together.

Breathe in for four, hold for four, breathe out for four, hold for four, repeat.

"They're always going up that same damn hill," Hawkeye said. He picked up a rock and threw it off down the road, past the basketball hoop.

BJ just let out a small huff. "Maybe they should stop trying to imitate the nursery rhyme."

The old rhyme about Jack and Jill spun through her head. Nellie just flashed a smile, hoping to force herself to relax. When BJ, Klinger, and Hawkeye went off to breakfast and invited her, she felt her stomach churn. Still she accepted.

As they got their food and settled into a table, Nellie watched Hawkeye's facial expressions. He was always expressive, no matter what he was feeling. In this case, she watched him sniff at the yellow stuff that passed for eggs in Korea. His nose wrinkled and his lips curled.

"Beej, do you know what it smells like today?" He put a scoop of eggs into his fork and held it out to his friend. "Guess."

"Hawk I don't want to guess."

"C'mon! It took me over a minute to figure it out this time! Here," he said again.

BJ rolled his eyes and set his own fork down. He paused. Then he moved his head to sniff the eggs.

"Boiled chicken feces."

The expression on BJ's face changed from mild discomfort to disgust. He glared at his friend. "See. Now I can't eat it! I hate it when you make me smell your food!"

Nellie agreed. "That helped a total of no one."

"But it does! That's the smell!"

"How could you even identify that," Nellie pointed out. At this point, she'd pushed her eggs as far to the side of her tray as possible. Toast for today, she supposed.

Hawkeye snorted. "I just know."

"Uh huh."

Nellie returned to eating quietly. By the end, she had managed to down some of the powdered eggs, and though the powdered milk was barely an improvement, it did wash it down. While Hawkeye and BJ left to do something no doubt foolish, Nellie headed to Post-Op.

Peggy Bigelow was on duty. She smiled at Nellie as the surgeon walked in. "Just in time. I was wondering where you were."

"Sorry. I got caught up trying to force down the eggs from breakfast," said Nellie. She walked through the more than half empty Post Op to the nurse's desk. "Anything I should know?"

"No, I don't think so. The last few cases are getting shipped to the 121st in a few hours. We need to make room for the next batch of wounded."

Nellie nodded. She hooked her stethoscope around her neck and slipped into the white doctor's coat that Klinger had told her about over breakfast. Almost all of the last few patients had all been treated by Hawkeye. The first lay close to the desk.

As she stood at the foot of his bed, she shot a small smile his way. Brown hair, brown eyes, African American. He couldn't have been over twenty-five. "How are you feeling today, Bratson?"

He put down his clipboard. "Doing pretty good, Major. Thanks."

"I'm so glad to hear that."

Nellie read his chart. His numbers looked relatively healthy. With a small smile, she watched him work away at what she assumed was a letter. She finally put the clipboard back on the hook and moved to sit on a chair next to his bed.

"Who are you writing?"

Bratson grinned wide. Setting his stuff down again, he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small polaroid picture. The girl in the photo was also black, and her pearly white smile shined through the faded, bent photo. "This is Mary Hudgins. She's my lil lady."

"She's beautiful." Nellie took the photo from him. It was worn, bloodstained. The black and white had faded into grey in some places. Well loved.

"Yeah, that she is. A right beauty. Kind and smart too." Bratson took the photo back and looked at it closely. With a sigh, he rested back into his pillow more.

Nellie got up and moved down the line. The next of the remaining five soldiers was an older white fellow. The sandy brown hair on his head matched a small mustache on his face. She forced herself not to grimace. Another of Hawkeye's patients, he had made it clear he didn't appreciate a woman doctor being anywhere near him. And at Second Lieutenant, he thought himself pretty damn smart.

"Good morning Lieutenant Tarlye." She forced herself to smile at him. "Feeling well enough to travel?"

"What do you want, Major," he bit back. His gritted teeth barely opened as he spoke. Disdain dripped from the word Major, and he certainly didn't smile.

Her face hardened and jaw clenched. She was not in the mood for his scorn. Quite the contrary, she had reached her maximum tolerance for it. "Respect would be nice."

He scoffed.

As he opened his mouth to retort, she drew herself. "Be very careful with your next words, Lieutenant. Because I may be a woman, but I am also a Major, and I am fully capable of putting you on report for both insubordination and conduct unbecoming of an officer." When he shut his mouth, she nodded. She hung up his clipboard and moved on.

A painful headache started in the base of her skull. She saw to the next three patients quietly. It took another twenty minutes, but in the end she had checked them all thoroughly. The Colonel's last remaining patient had been a talkative eighteen year old, and her headache had grown into an even larger dull ache.

With two quick movements, she hung up her stethoscope and coat. She vaguely heard Peggy talking to Margaret as she ducked back out into the sun. An audible groan escaped her.

"Things not going well?"

Nellie reopened her eyes and blinked against the sun at Shari's voice. "Nothing I'm not used to. But I snapped about it quicker than I should've." She stuck her hands in her pants pockets and shrugged. "What are you up to?"

"I'm heading to Rosie's with Roy, Zale, and Kellye. Want to join us?"

"No thanks. I'm getting a headache," she said. "Have fun."

Shari didn't move off. "Was it the lieutenant again?"

Nellie sighed. She rubbed her forehead. "Yeah. I shouldn't let him get to me, but it was a rough night and I wasn't prepared to deal with it."

"I'm sorry." She flashed a small smile at Nellie, hoping it would help. "You should grab a nap. Maybe it'll get rid of your headache."

"Yeah. Thanks."

Shari smiled again and moved off towards the Mess Tent. With a sigh, Nellie just walked towards her own tent. Hoping to catch an hour's nap, she hurried off. Once in her own tent, she used a towel to wipe the sweat from under her arms. The heat had been steadily worsening with each day, and it had only been about a week.

Nellie released the window flaps of her tent to block as much light as possible. She hoped a bit of a nap would get rid of the dull ache. Too little sleep and too much sun contributed, she guessed. Finally she laid down. Sleep consumed her in minutes.

When she woke up a couple hours later, it was to a soft knock on her door. She pulled on her army-issued button down and wrapped her hair up. At last she opened the door. To her surprise, Father Mulcahy stood waiting.

"Father?"

"Major," he said. "I hope I'm not disturbing you?"

"No, no." She smiled. "Come in. I feel bad that I haven't talked to you more since getting here."

Father just smiled back. "Yes, I did see in your records that you're Catholic, but I never assume anyone wants to talk to me just because of that."

She stood away from the door. Taking a seat on the edge of her bed, Nellie gestured for Father to take her desk chair. "What can I do for you?"

"I have a problem. There's this surgeon I know who's facing tremendous odds, and has been for a long time. But I don't know how to help. I thought maybe you might have some idea?"

Nellie felt her cheeks warming. The corners of her mouth twitched up in the tiniest smile. "Father, I'm fine."

"It's been my observation that no one here is really 'fine'," he argued. "We all cope with this madness in a different way."

"I've only been here five days-"

"Five days is longer than anyone should have to suffer through." He sighed. "Major-"

"Nellie's fine, Father."

With a smile, he continued, "Nellie. You may not be used to relying on anyone. I imagine having to go through medical school would've forced you to learn to be on your own. I helped a young woman prepare for the entrance exam, and I found that even the women were less than supportive." When she didn't interrupt, he nodded. "However when you're here, I can only encourage you to use the resources here."

Nellie's eyebrows creased in confusion. "Resources?"

"Companionship. God didn't ask us to travel alone. He had the twelve. Saint Francis de Sales had Saint Jane de Chantal. Saint Patrick had Saint Clare…" After a pause, he continued. "Remember Galatians. 'Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way, you will fulfill the law of Christ'."

She nodded. Ever since she was a child, Nellie had found it hard to fit in, to relate to her peers. She had always wanted more than them. She had always needed more knowledge, sought more knowledge. It had put her at odds with everyone. Maybe here, she needed to open herself up more. A simple prank here or there really didn't mean the same as a good conversation. So far her conversations with Hawkeye had gone the deepest. She needed Sidney back.

"I'll try, Father," she said at last. With a quick smile and a deep breath in, she stretched. "I should probably do something productive now."

But Father Mulcahy just laughed. "It's already lunch time. Join me? Their supposedly cooking something edible today."