"Who forgot to wipe their shoes before coming into the house?" Margaret asked, with a pretty good idea who was behind the trail of muddy footprints from the back door through the kitchen.

"It was Tuttle," Liam replied.

"What did you say?" Margaret frowned, sure she must've heard wrong.

"It was Tuttle," he repeated.

"What else has Tuttle done?" she asked, becoming increasingly suspicious.

"He stole my homework, and he broke Bobby's watch. By accident!"

"Uh huh," Margaret nodded.

"Benjamin Franklin Pierce!"

Hawkeye froze in mid pitch. Susie glanced over her shoulder towards the house, where her mom came storming out of the back door, then back to her dad.

"You're in big trouble," she said. Hawkeye handed her the ball as he passed and jogged up to the porch, figuring that it wasn't a good idea to keep Margaret waiting when she was in this humour.

"Yes darling?" he asked, throwing in a grin.

"Don't you yes darling me," she snapped. "I just asked our son who took mud into the house on their shoes. Do you know what he said? He said Tuttle." She spat the final word out. Hawkeye's stomach sank. He knew telling Liam and Neil about his childhood imaginary friend was a bad idea. Why couldn't he have told Susie?

"Does that name sound familiar to you?" Margaret continued.

"No," he replied vaguely, going for innocence.

"It should. Don't you remember Captain Jonathan S Tuttle?"

"The name sounds familiar, but I can't put a face to it."

"Captain Jonathan Tuttle apparently died jumping out of a helicopter without his parachute. But why would our son know that when we made a rule not to tell them about Korea until they were older?"

"Um... BJ?"

"Nice try mister, BJ wasn't there then. How does Liam know about Tuttle and why is he blaming a dead man for trailing mud through our kitchen?"

Hawkeye turned towards his still waiting daughter.

"Hey Susie, rain-check?" he called.

"Sure," she shrugged, wandering off to find something better to do than watch her dad get into deep you-know-what. Again.

"Why don't we sit down?" Hawkeye suggested. Margaret stood firm, hands on hips, showing she was not moving until she had an answer. He took a deep breath. "Tuttle isn't dead."

"What?" Now Margaret was really confused.

"Tuttle isn't dead because Tuttle never existed. When I was a kid, Tuttle was my imaginary friend. If I did something I shouldn't have, I blamed Tuttle. Then, one night Trapper and I were giving supplies to Sister Theresa and she started thanking us. We felt, I don't know, bad I guess. We were giving her so little and she was thanking us like it was the best thing since sliced bread. So I told her we were doing it for Tuttle. Then it got out of hand when Henry and Frank started competing over who was Tuttle's best friend. We conned the army into giving fourteen months of pay to a man who didn't exist and gave it all to the orphanage. Then General Clayton wanted to give him a medal which would've been a bit difficult as I don't think you can pin a medal into thin air. So we got a pair of dog tags and a parachute and Tuttle died. Then a few nights ago the boys couldn't get to sleep so I started telling them about Tuttle when I was a kid which I admit was not one of my finest ideas."

Nervously, Hawkeye waited for her to blow up at him. Margaret just started at him. Eventually she spoke.

"You convinced the US army to send fourteen months pay to your imaginary friend?" Her voice was low and dangerous.

"Yeah..." He had to admit, it didn't sound so great when she said it like that. But it had been all in the name of charity.

"And to pay death benefits to the orphanage following his 'death'? I don't believe you."

Hawkeye winced. Here it comes. But instead of yelling at him, Margaret burst out laughing. Confused, he opted for staying very still and quiet incase she suddenly started screaming. She shook her head.

"Only you," she sighed. "Only you would convince half of the US army that your imaginary friend was real."

Slowly, he began to grin.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" he asked hopefully.

"Only if you promise never to finish telling Liam about Tuttle."

"Deal," he agreed quickly. Margaret laughed again.

"I can't believe we all fell for that," she said. "Frank was jealous of him and desperate to be his best friend at the same time."

"You know, when we made up his file, his looks were for you."

"Well he was very handsome," Margaret agreed. "But not as handsome as another doctor I know." She bent down and kissed him.