For the Soul

Note and Disclaimer: I still don't own M*A*S*H and you shouldn't either. Enjoy part six of "After My War"!

Sometimes, I do have a favorite person I'd like to look at from afar. This particular chap is from Philadelphia – born, raised and ordained. That's right. He is a priest. While I believe him a tad misguided in his beliefs on the afterlife, I still respect the man for all that he's done. Even if he felt it was nothing, his impact on people is immense.

Father Francis John Patrick Mulcahy…what can I say about him? He was a chaplain for many years in Philadelphia, junior to everyone else except the deacons. His modesty and mousy and quirky behavior merited him nothing more than being a substitute every now and then and sometimes administering the sacraments. His superiors didn't think he was going to rise much and didn't bother grooming him for any role.

There wasn't anything special about him either. Father Mulcahy was a man who looked the other way if it didn't impact anyone directly. He wasn't a tattletale. He didn't use his authority as a priest to take advantage of people. Quite the opposite! He gave to the poor and deprived frequently. He didn't take an active role in any of the schools except to hear confession (he didn't abuse the children there, unlike most priests). Best of all, he practiced what he preached.

He was no hypocrite by any stretch of the imagination. But what his strengths were also became his weaknesses. The parishes he worked for took advantage of him. They used him as a scapegoat for many transgressions, most of them concerning missing money, crying schoolgirls and scolding old women. It was too easy to believe the quiet one was the culprit. While no wrongdoing was proven, Father Mulcahy's reputation was in ruins.

It was best that he was drafted. Father Mulcahy was easily picked up after the Second World War and assigned to be a chaplain at various camps. His past did not follow him, but some frown-upon activities of his did. What happened too was that those he sermonized to openly sinned and did not care. They saw a priest do the same things they did.

Father Mulcahy forgave them all. It was in his nature. But it also made him think. If God was supposed to judge on the final day, then it was his own soul he had to hold onto. He was in charge of those in the camp, but he had to look after his own the most. If he could not do the best he could by God, then what good was his soul? If he could not take them into his care because his own was impure, then he could not be a priest. He had to set an example.

That was his mantra – to hold onto the soul. It served him well, even when he was transferred to Korea. There, he dealt with more than just boredom, insecurities and Army nonsense. Father Mulcahy was more than a priest there. He was an ear, an orderly and a guide. Sure, he didn't mention the horrendous sins committed head-on. But he allowed these people to release their inner child to cope with what was outside of their base circle.

Many a night though, Father Mulcahy would stay up and think about his role. It was surely medical personnel that were needed, not his poor self. He had doubts about who he was and why God had chosen him to be in Korea. Sometimes, he'd even feel sorry for himself and his modesty went out the window.

I've done enough. People should see that I am hardworking and diligent in my duties!

But he held onto his soul. That was his only consolation. The fact that he managed to keep it in a time of crises was a miracle. Anyone else would have allowed their demons to control them. Father Mulcahy pushed them away. He only wanted to shine in front of his colleagues.

And nobody really expressed their gratitude until the closing of the war. It was when he saw a camp openly showing their love that he knew he was loved and appreciated. He was no priest that people could push around. He gained more than just a name for clean jokes and fun. He was a member of the family.

After his war, Father Mulcahy was partially deaf. He was depressed and went back to drinking heavily, almost losing his soul in the process. When Klinger and the former Colonel Potter found him, they managed to get him cleaned up. Father Mulcahy underwent an experimental surgery to regain his hearing and came out of it all the better.

The days of being a priest without a purpose were gone. Father Mulcahy decided that being with a parish was not the way to go. God required him to a higher calling – to remain with the military and those in Korea. He went back and forth between the US and Korea, consoling, advising and preaching to those in need.

I am Death though…and there is always a way to me. Father Mulcahy did not even think of me. He held onto his soul, even in the depths of his despair. But even when I come to him, he still would have it intact. His goodness will shine on, even when he leaves his body.