APRIL, 1953

I accept : That I love the army, but it doesn't know everything. That the nurses are both soldiers and my friends. But just when I have this neatly packed away--he walks in.

The man who is well-admired also keeps his distance. What I thought arrogance I now know protects a large heart. When his perfectionism has failed him---I got angry. I want and need him to be perfect.

When he passes by, I swear everyone is looking for a public moment between us that may never come. We both feel it, but we never say it.

"Major."

"Hawkeye."