Title: Dear Peg
Fandom: MASH
Rating: T
Length: 1005 words
Content notes: War, epistolary
Author's notes: Also for the Fall Into Fall Festival prompt "Any/Any/Come Home"
Summary: B.J. Writes a letter home to Peg about his exciting week at the 4077th


Dear Peg,

You'll never believe what happened this week in Korea: it actually snowed! I know we always talked about taking a trip to the mountains out near Tahoe to see the snow. Maybe one day when Erin was old enough to enjoy playing in it.

Well, I'm afraid I've beaten you to the punch. I know the newsreels mentioned how cold it got here in the winter, but in my mind I never translated that to snow. Certainly a picturesque snowy postcard isn't your first thought when someone says "war"

It isn't a huge amount — you can scrape your foot across the ground and find dirt fairly easily — but somehow it makes the whole camp look better. Maybe that's just the veneer of a classic Christmas talking, but everyone's feeling it. I was on shift in Post-Op with Nurse Kelley when it started. Remember, I told you about her? She's from Hawaii, and was one of the first people stationed at the 4077.

She was here last winter, and she said it snowed then too. Being from Hawaii, she'd never seen it before either. She said she borrowed a camera from one of the men to take a picture and send it back home to prove to her family that she'd actually been in the snow. I talked to Rizzo about getting my own picture, and he took it this morning, but it won't be developed for a little while.

Apparently the chemicals they use to develop the photos are siphoned from other — legitimate — sources around the camp, like radiology, and we've been running low on supplies.

One thing that our guys are pretty good about are priorities. When we've got surplus, Colonel Potter looks the other way when a little goes missing, and when we're in need, no one steals from the patients.

I've heard that some of the units are run with an iron fist — especially those whose leaders are regular Army — and we're really lucky to have someone as understanding as Potter. I know the old Colonel was a draftee, and Hawkeye and the others were afraid that Potter would be one of those tyrants, but we hit the jackpot.


I just got back from dinner, love, and realized when re-reading this that I got a bit sidetracked. Suffice to say that Rizzo took what he assures me is a wonderful picture, and whenever he gets back to me, I'll send it to you.

The morning that it snowed, when I got off shift, I sacked out for a few hours, but the snow was still there when I woke up. When Hawkeye found out that I'd never seen it in person before, he immediately insisted on giving me a real introduction to all the best parts of a snow day.

We found Radar behind the motorpool, attempting to make a snowman with some of the local kids. Unfortunately, since the snow was so light on the ground, there was almost as much mud as snow mixed in. Hawkeye just declared that the snowmen were wearing Army drab, and even loaned them his last pair of Captain's bars to give their snowman a little authenticity.

Peg, I swear I saw Klinger salute it when he passed it on patrol last night.

Hawkeye and I have a pair of chairs set up out back of the Swamp, and it's been too cold to sit in them recently, but they did provide us a good source of clean snow. Hawkeye insisted we make our own snowman, so we made one about three inches tall on the arm of my chair. You'll see it in the photo: it's the one sitting in a martini glass instead of holding one.

I still can't get Hawkeye to tell me how he got ahold of real martini glasses in the middle of a war — and months before the Officer's Club opened! Maybe one day he'll finally share… I wonder, what if I get him really drunk?

He also insisted that we throw snowballs at someone, or we hadn't really experienced our first snowfall. So, those also might have been a little more mud than snow, but Frank was heading to the showers anyway.

Of course, he still threatened to put Hawkeye and I on report, but Hawkeye just dared him to point to the line in the Geneva convention about snowballs. After blustering a moment, he engaged in a tactical retreat.

Now I'm starting to sound like I'm regular Army.

The only thing we weren't able to do, which otherwise would have been on Hawkeye's list of snow day 'musts' was to go sledding. There were enough spare odds and ends lying around that we could have used for a sled — from a trash can lid to a broken stretcher — but not quite enough snow to make it worthwhile. That, and the closest hill to the camp ends in the minefield, which is a fast way to make your first time sledding your last time sledding.

It might be a hack job, in his words, but Hawkeye considers me officially initiated into the world of snow days. And he promised that, after the war, he'd fly to California the first winter and meet us in Tahoe so he can give all three of us a proper snow day. I think Erin will be thrilled to go sledding and build a snowman with her Uncle Hawkeye.

I know we hoped that I'd come home in time for Christmas, but the war just drags on. I'm afraid that it'll be next fall before I'm able to come home and keep that promise. I pray it won't be the one after that.


I've got to go, Peg. Corporal Bryant just announced that we'll have patients in twenty minutes. Apparently someone decided to celebrate the first snow of the year by throwing something a lot more deadly than snowballs.

I love you. Kiss Erin for me, and dream of the snow day we'll have when I come home.

Love,
B.J.