© 1996, 1997  MJ Bovo.  All rights reserved.  Any reproduction of this document in whole  or in part is prohibited.

     As he slowly regained consciousness, the voices in the room confirmed to him that he was awake.  However, the blackness surrounding him did not permit him to know where he was.  He could remember crawling through the grass trying to get back to the barracks.  His body felt raw, as though all his skin and hair had been peeled off.  The pain was unlike any he had ever known or thought could exist.  It was almost overwhelming to realize that only his buttocks didn't hurt.  He tried to move his fingers, and a moan escaped what was left of his lips.
    "Are you awake, soldier?  Don't try to move or talk.  Let me know if you can hear me by lifting your little finger on your right hand."  Ian, with great effort was able to move his finger.  The pain made him not want to repeat the act.
    "E..y..e..s.?"  was all he could get out.
    "It's OK.  Your eyes are covered with bandages. I'm Caroline.  I'm a nurse and you're in the Army Hospital.  You were brought here three days ago.  A sentry found you and the men you dragged back from the napalm explosion.  A live bomb was detonated instead of a dummy.  You're lucky to be alive.  Only two of you lived.  I'm sorry, but one of the men you dragged back with you died before you were found.  Your other buddy has already been flown back to the States.  You need to rest now.  I'm going to give you a shot of morphine.  That will help the pain and let you sleep.  Captain Reynolds will be back by the time you wake up again. He's one of the doctors here.  He'll talk to you then."  Caroline had never seen burns like this before.  She could only imagine the pain this GI must have.  Quickly, she prepared the syringe with the painkiller.
     Ian felt the cool of the alcohol soaked cotton rubbing the side of his buttock.  He was in so much pain, he never felt the pinch of the needle.  Soon, he was drifting off to a drug-induced sleep.  As he began floating away, he heard Elizabeth's voice singing her version of Your Cheatin' Heart.  The princess must be thinking about him.

     Jerry Reynolds thought he was prepared for anything by the time he had finished his surgical residency at Mass General.  He was one of the best surgeons ever trained at the prestigious hospital.  He was drafted within a few months of beginning private practice.  The M.A.S.H. unit located twenty miles outside of Seoul, where he was sent, received men and body parts, and more than a few inexperienced doctors.  He learned more in the six months he was there than in four years of residency.  After six months, he was reassigned to the military hospital in Tokyo.  The M.A.S.H. units stabilized the men as much as possible, then they were flown to Tokyo.  That was where the real work started.  That didn't mean that amazing things weren't done before the men reached there, but it was here that the pieces were reassembled to be as close to the way nature intended as possible.  After Tokyo, the men were shipped stateside, to a life irrevocably changed.
     He took a deep breath as he walked into the ward.  Today he had to tell a man that the face and body had been born with no longer existed; that the face he grew up with was a thing of the past.
     Captain Reynolds walked through the ward and stopped at the bottom of the bed.  Looking up from the progress chart, he saw the bandaged-swathed body of the young GI.  "Ian, my name is Jerry Reynolds.  I'm a surgeon and I've been taking care of you since you arrived.  Let me know if you can hear me."  Ian moved his finger slightly and Jerry Reynolds continued, "We have your eyes covered to protect them.  Eighty-five percent of your body was burned by a napalm explosion during your training session.  Only the back of your head, your lower back and buttocks weren't burned.  Fortunately, for us and you, we'll be able to use these areas for the skin grafts you'll need."  Jerry Reynolds took a deep breath.  He wasn't even sure if the young soldier would live long enough for grafts to be attempted.  The possibility of infection was enormous. "We have given you a lot of penicillin to stop infection.  For the next few weeks, we'll be cleaning your skin and removing the burned skin as it becomes loose enough to take off.  After a few more weeks of healing, we'll start doing the skin grafts.  I'm sorry Ian, but we'll need to rebuild your face.  That is where we'll start.  I'll need a picture of you so I can try to get as close as possible to the way you looked before the accident.  When you write to your family, ask them to send it."
    Ian became agitated and turn his head painfully from side to side. "No writing."
    Misunderstanding, the captain explained that the nurses would take dictation for a letter.  Still, Ian slowly shook his head and with great effort said, "Don't want them to know until I'm better!"
    The captain acknowledged the request.  It was not unusual.  Many wounded men didn't want their families to know until they were better, or at least able to cope with the injuries themselves.

     Elizabeth sat watching I Love Lucy as her grandmother was on the phone making yet another call.  Diana had been making and receiving calls since early this morning, as she had been for days.  Elizabeth's vision had to be verified.  The child was still adamant about what she saw.
     Diana's usual cool composure was gone.  "I don't give a damn about national security, troop movements or anything else, John!  I want to know where my son is and I want to know if he is all right.  I have worked tirelessly campaigning to get people elected and now it's time for the favors to be returned.  Find my son!"  As she slammed the phone, she took a deep breath and looked at her granddaughter.
     "It's almost bedtime, Elizabeth," said a weary Diana.
     Elizabeth looked up at her grandmother with a glaze to eyes, "Gram, those people are with Ian again."
     Rushing to her granddaughter, Diana said "What do you see, darling?"
     "Ian is asleep again and people are all standing around him.  They have white dresses on and they're standing around his bed.  They do this all the time."

     After weeks of painstaking debridement in which the burned, dead skin was removed from Ian's body, he had been wheeled into the operating room.  The OR team had worked for hours to prepare the grafting areas.  Strips of scalp and hair from the back of his head were now being stitched into place at the top of his forehead.  The next step was to get cartilage from the rib cage to fashion the ears and nose.
     Making the incision over the center of the rib cage, Captain Reynolds was thinking ahead to what he was about to do.  No training taught him how to do what he was doing.  He was on his own.  His own ingenuity the best talent he had to help this man.    Half inch thick pieces of cartilage were cut from the area of the lower ribs where they attach to the breastbone. They were placed in a salt solution to keep them moist.  The chest incision was then stitched closed and bandaged.
     "We need to turn him on his side so that I can get to the skin on his butt," Reynolds said to the nurse helping with the surgery.
    Together, they put Ian on his side.  The skin was scrubbed with a disinfectant and drapes were placed over the area where he would work.  Three sixteenth inch thick patches of skin were shaved off.  A bandage was placed over the wound.
     Next, the cartilage pieces were carved  to look like ears and the skin was sewn over them.  The makeshift ears were then sewn over the holes on the sides of Ian's head, in the same place his own ears had been.  Attention was then placed on the flat area in the center of the face where his nose had been.  A half inch thick piece of cartilage was stitched there and carved into a nose.  The remaining patch of skin was placed over this and nostrils were formed.  The bandages were replaced over all the areas rebuilt today.
     "You can wake him up now." Reynolds said to the medic who had been giving the ether. As the surgeon walked away from the waking GI, he was already thinking about the next step needed to remake this man's face.
 

     It had already been several months and twelve operations since the rebuilding of Ian O'Shaunessy had begun.  The cartilage grafts had taken better than expected. The fingernails on his hands had regrown, much to everyone's surprise.  Ian still didn't know what his face looked like because he refused to look in mirrors and no one had really encouraged this.  If his body was any indication, he never wanted to look into a mirror again.  The surface of his body had healed into hideous red, puckered scars.  He was able to move his fingers with less pain now.   They didn't crack open with every movement any more.  Talking was still painful, but easier since the operation to make his lips.  Muscle strips had been grafted.  Fat taken from his buttocks had been injected under the loose skin that had been sewn around the opening of his mouth.  At least he could close his eyes to the outside world now.  Thin muscle strips covered with skin had been sewn over his eyes and were now acting like real eyelids.  He could see quite clearly; no damage had been done to his sight.  As he lay waiting to go back to the operating room, he almost wished he had been blinded.  That way, he would never have to see what he looked like.
     "Ready, Ian?" Jerry Reynolds asked as he approached Ian's bed with a stretcher.
     "Sure, Doc.  Let's get this show on the road."

     The ringing telephone jarred Diana from her thoughts.  "Hello."
     "Diana, this is John.  We've located Ian.  He's in the Army Hospital in Tokyo.  He was badly burned in a training accident but he's alive."
     Diana sat abruptly as her legs gave out.  It had taken several months of perseverance to find Ian.  Now at last she knew he was alive.  This had been one of the few times in her life that Diana had not been able to know or see what was happening.  One of the few times her gift had failed her.              "Elizabeth was right when she told us of the fire," she thought.
     "Diana?  Are you there?"
     "Yes, John.  How can we thank you?  When can we go to see him?  When is he coming home?  When can we talk to him?" All her questions ran together.
     "Apparently, he's still not able to be sent back.  Because of the war, you can't go there.  I'm sure you'll be getting a letter soon.  At least you can rest a little easier now.  I have to rush.  Merry Christmas to everyone."
     "You have given us the best Christmas present ever, John.  Merry Christmas to you and your family." With that, Diana placed the receiver back into the cradle, took a deep breath and let the months of tears flow.  This would be a wonderful Christmas present for everyone.

     Three of the four O'Shaunessey children were gathered in the living room.  This was the first time both Susan and Mario had been to the apartment since Maria was born.  Diana wanted the family together and asked them to come to the apartment for Christmas Eve.
     The room had been decorated, even though no one was in a holiday mood because of Ian.  The seven foot high tree was topped by golden angel.  The fragile glass ornaments glowed in the tree and fireplace lights.  Garland had been placed around the fireplace mantle.  Anne and Bryan were talking about the controversy over the new Steinbeck novel, East of Eden. Baby Maria was walking around, trying to undecorate the tree.  Susan continually jumped up from the sofa to retrieve some new object that intrigued the toddler.  Between jack-in-the-box moves, Susan tried to listen to Elizabeth reading a Christmas book to her.  Elizabeth waited patiently each time until her mother's attention returned to her.  Mario sat slouched in a chair, holding a beer in his hand.  He kept watching Maria.
     "Let the kid alone, Susan.  She's only looking."
     "I don't want her to break anything, Mario."  said Susan impatiently.
     "Who cares?  The old man has enough money to replace it."
     Devlin and Diana walked in just as Mario's last statement ended.  "The amount of money I have is none of your business, young man."  Everyone looked up at Devlin as he spit out his words.
     "Now that I have your attention, your  mother and I have an announcement to make.  We learned today that Ian is alive and in an Army hospital in Tokyo.  We should be hearing from him soon."  Excited chatter began as the mood in the room decidedly changed to one of happiness and celebration.  Anne, Bryan and Susan hugged each other and their parents.
     Maria, realizing that no one was paying attention to her,  took the opportunity to take a closer look at the Christmas tree.  Just as  she reached for one of the fragile glass ornaments, Elizabeth jumped from the sofa, ran to her and grabbed her hand.
     "No," said the older child.  Maria began to cry and in a flash Mario was out of his chair.  He grabbed Elizabeth by the hair and pulled her away from Maria.
     "Don't you ever touch her again," he snarled as he slapped her full force across the face.  He then threw the child against the already precarious tree and picked up Maria, not caring that the tree had fallen on his oldest.
     The sudden action caused a shocked and momentary silent immobility.  Then everyone sprang to action.  Bryan and Devlin moved the tree off the frightened and crying Elizabeth.  Anne gathered the child in her arms and left the room.
     Diana looked at her oldest daughter in horror.  "How can you say nothing, Susan?  You may do whatever you like in your own home, but this is my home and we do not hit children here.  Mario, I think you and Susan should leave before I forget myself and allow my son and husband to beat the hell out of you.  You deserve it, you bastard.  If you ever hit that child in my presence again, I will have you arrested."
     "Don't worry about us leaving.  We're going.  Susan, get your ass in gear and get ready.  I'll be downstairs in the car."  With that, Mario put on his coat and left the apartment.
     "Mother, please, don't say anything else.  He's my husband."
     A snort of disgust escaped Bryan's lips, "Husband?  The man is a god damned animal.  I don't know how you can even stand to be in the same room with him."
     "It's none of your business.  Any of you!" screamed Susan.
     "Quite the contrary, Susan." said Devlin with rage in his voice, barely controlling the temper of his youth. "The only reason I didn't beat the hell out of him was because of the children.  But this is our home, not his.  If he can't act like a human being here, I don't want to see him here again.  Ever!  You and Maria are welcome, but he's not.  Do you understand?  This will never happen again.  Make no mistake about it, I will have him arrested if he ever touches that child again."
     Susan silently dressed Maria and herself for the cold December night.  She looked at her father and knew better than to say another word.  She turned and walked out of the apartment, again leaving the devastation Mario caused behind her.
     "Devlin, I can't believe she never opposes him.  Even when he brutalizes her own child.  I'm going to see to Elizabeth."
     Diana walked into the child's bedroom and looked at the solemn little girl.  No tears flowed as Elizabeth, pale and visibly shaken, looked at her grandmother. "I didn't want Maria to get hurt.  Why did Daddy think I did something?"
     Diana hesitated a moment before answering.  "Darling, please just stay out of his way when he's around."  It was all she could say as she hugged the little girl.  Trying to take her mind off the incident that just happened, she said, "Ian will be coming home soon."  Turning off the bedroom, lights she then returned to the family in the living room.
     Walking back into the now quiet room, she looked at Devlin.  "How can she continue to allow this?  She can't possibly believe that she has to put up with this just because she's married to him!"
     Devlin, the enraged color now gone from his face, relied "I think Mario does whatever he wants.  Susan has no control over him.  I don't think she's ever grown up.  She's still living a fantasy that loves means happily ever after."
     "Yeah, Dad," said Bryan seated on the sofa with Anne, "but Mario's no prince charming!"

     Ian lay in his hospital bed, tears streaming down his face.  The faint sounds of Christmas carols had created an ache for his family that he had never allowed before.  "How can I ever let them see me?"  he thought.

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