The children left after dinner. Nurse Betty thanked them profusely for all their help. Her gratitude filled them all with tremendous joy, and though she had nothing to give them in return, all agreed that the mere presence of the kids had done enough for morale. The break in wounded would soon end, no doubt. They would cling to the hope the children had provided for as long as possible.

But with the departure of the children came the impending meeting with the Colonel. Klinger told them he'd been listening to old French records, the kind from the first world war. Fear over Colonel Potter increased with every passing hour.

At 2100 hours, the whole staff stood outside his tent. Nellie stayed in the back. Honored to have been included, but a bit unsure as to what she'd done to be elevated to the status of the others, she kept quiet. Hawkeye led the way, as usual. But he halted several paces from the door. The light from inside the Colonel's tent shown through the mostly covered window flaps. Hawkeye turned back.

"Well… here we are."

"Sure are." BJ glanced at the door, and then back at the others.

"We can probably...just go in."

Klinger sighed. "Maybe we're early?"

Hawkeye agreed immediately and moved away from the door. But Margaret stood in his way. She wrung her hands.

"I, I uh want to know but I - I don't want to know… you know?"

"I know."

"Someone should knock." Charles drew himself up. But despite his words, he made no movement forward. His feet remained glued to the ground, and his hands stayed in his pockets.

Finally, Father Mulcahy stepped forward. He nodded. "Well… alright." They parted as he walked up to the door. With brief hesitation, he knocked.

Colonel Potter stood in the doorway as it opened. Nellie could hear him greeting them as each stepped inside. When at last it came to her, her eyebrow raised involuntarily. The Colonel wore a brown uniform. Cavalry, if she remembered correctly. It looked to be made of something akin to tweed, with a wide brimmed hat on top.

"I'm glad you came too, Major."

She shook his outstretched hand cautiously. It felt warm to the touch, worn from hours of labor in the OR and on the battlefield. Nellie maneuvered herself into the left corner, beside Klinger. The three chairs had been occupied by Hawkeye, BJ, and Margaret, while Charles and Father Mulcahy stood behind.

Even as Colonel Potter went to speak, Margaret grabbed him in a tight hug, tears on her cheeks. Nellie had never seen that sort of emotion from her. It made her own lip tighten.

"What's with her?" Potter looked at them in confusion.

Hawkeye just wrung his hands and looked up at the man in concern. "I'd do the same if I didn't think you'd slug me."

"We're worries about you, Colonel," BJ added.

Charles nodded. "Rest assured, Colonel, you have our complete and total support."

Klinger and Padre agreed immediately with them. Nellie remained quiet, unsure of what to do. She cared for the Colonel, but not in the way these others did. But watching their total devotion, even Charles who acted like he cared for no one, moved her to tears.

"Thanks. I appreciate it, I suppose. But if you'll all put the tear ducts on simmer, I'll lay out the whole story." He took a deep breath and pursed his lips. "Now I'm sure you're all wonderin' about the old fashion get up."

"Now that you mention it."

Potter sent Hawkeye a short nod. "It was a long time ago… we were in France, under a heavy artillery barrage. My buddies and I laid low in old French château." He cracked a tiny smile, but his eyes watered. "We were quite a group, the five of us. Went through hell together and lived to get drunk."

He showed them a photo of his group. Nellie held it last, as he went on to tell about the night they'd spent drinking, and singing, and laughing in World War One. While shells rained down, they'd drunk to stay sane. The picture had grayed some, but she could still make out the much younger Sherman Potter.

"Then, we got down to the last bottle." Colonel Potter held up a bottle of red wine and his voice broke. "This, this bottle here. The five of us made a pledge. We'd let some legal eagle stow it, and whoever was the last survivor would get it, and drink a toast to the rest." With tears on the edge of breaking, his lips quivered. But he maintained his poise. "For better or worse, you're looking at the last surviving member. I got the job when Gresky passed in Tokyo. He had the bottle sent here… God rest his soul."

Nellie watched as the whole room relaxed. Shoulders and jaw unclenched as breaths were released. Charles grabbed at his chest lightly, and Hawkeye nearly coughed out a laugh. But Nellie felt her heart clenching more. He'd lost so much. He'd fought the same war as Jack, and a whole war before that. The fact he could stand there and tell his story astounded her. 

As Hawkeye tried to explain that they'd all thought he'd been sick, Colonel Potter let out a small chuckle. But his voice broke as he responded. "I was sick! Just thinking how my friends are all gone now. Felt sorry for myself too, gettin' up in years." He sighed. Then he nodded. "But I'm looking at things a bit different now. I've been a very lucky man. Had some wondrous, joyous times." Colonel Potter paused to collect himself as his voice quavered.

The room fell silent. Nellie could've sworn the others could hear her heart beat. But no one moved, so captured by the Colonel's speech and melancholy.

"But." He drew himself up. "As much as my old friends mean to me, I think you new friends mean even more." He ignores the tears on the others' faces as he grabbed the bottle and opened it. "So, I'd like you to share this bottle with me."

"We'd be honored." Hawkeye didn't even hesitate, standing and speaking through his tears. 

He and Margaret passed out the shot glasses, filling them with some wine each. Nellie's chest constricted as Hawkeye handed her a glass. She touched his hand and hesitated. But she couldn't raise her eyes to any of them. It reminded her so much of the toast Jack led each birthday to his fallen war buddies. She felt it, physically, the loss and the pain that loss caused.

Colonel Potter made the first toast solo, naming each of his four wat buddies. The first had died in the Great War, and the second in World War Two. The third and fourth had survived them, with Gresky dying most recently at Tokyo General. With each name he said, his voice wavered. Finally, he drank.

"That was the old. Now for the new." He raised his half full glass. "To love, and friendship."

They clinked glasses. Nellie, last of all to join, hesitated in the middle briefly. Her mind and heart both raced. If the night had reminded her of anything, it was the fragility of time. Jack had told her time and again, don't wait. Seize each moment. That's why she's gone to Korea. That's why she'd worked so hard for everything.

The wine went down smoothly, a gentle fruity flavor with an aftertaste to savor for as long as possible. Silence hung in the air, palpable between each member of the toast. After several moments, Potter cleared his throat.

"Right. Now. Get out of my tent so I can take this damn outfit off." 

Though it was said fiercely, they caught his humor. Everyone laughed, and bid him goodnight. Charles left first, leading the way out, and Nellie followed close behind.

Her heart still pounded in her chest. Though she made to all but run away, she found herself stopping about twenty paces from the tent. She turned back in time to find Hawkeye and BJ strolling out together in silence. They caught up with her momentarily. But she still couldn't make herself leave. A deep, anxious pit had settled in her stomach.

Hawkeye turned back around and looked at her in concern. "Have you decided to be the Statue of Liberty? Klinger beat you to it already."

"One date." She had blurted out the words before she even realized what she'd said. 

"What?"

BJ's eyebrows shot up and then he grinned. "Right then. I'll leave you two to talk." He turned away with a small laugh and kept walking.

"What did you say?" Hawkeye's grin grew as he backtracked the few feet to her.

Nellie huffed. Heat rose to her face, and she could feel herself blushing. "You heard what I said."

"No, I know. But I want to hear you say it again." He laughed at the indignation on her face. With a shout and a laugh, Hawkeye ducked away from the light smack she sent him. "Don't hurt me!"

"One."

"That's all I ask. And I didn't even have to get you pizza." With a grin he winked down at her. "Sure you're ready to admit you fell for me to the public?"

"I am allowing you one date with me."

"Sure, sure." Hawkeye laughed as he backed away towards his tent. "I'll pick you up in my car, we'll go for a spin down to Rosie's. The cesspool is beautiful this time of year."

Nellie smiled at his jokes. "Just don't put the top down. I hate what the wind does to my hair."

With a laugh, he turned away and walked back to the Swamp. Her tent was further. With each step, she debated over and over in her mind if it's been the right decision. Seize the day, Jack had said. And she'd seen how friends came and went, and how precious a true companion was. 

When she entered her tent and locked the door behind her, her eyes fell on the letter from Molly. Unopened, it still sat in the corner of her desk. Speaking of friends, she thought. Her heart raced again. But it was time. She had to open it.