*****AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first fanfic. The only characters I can claim are the doctors in the clinic. I don't know whether the events that the main character goes through are medically possible, or whether there is such thing as a recovery clinic, but, hey, it's fiction, after all. Those of you who know me won't be surprised that I couldn't resist putting a twist of H/M into this story. Hope you enjoy!*****

***TOKYO, 1955***

"Hey Jack!" Someone here to see you!"

Jack looked up from his poker game at the clinic in Tokyo, Japan. He had no clue who could be there to see him. He didn't know anyone outside the clinic. In fact, he didn't even know who he was.

They called him Jack when they couldn't identify him. His head injury had caused him to forget everything about himself. Who he was, where he was, why he was in an Army plane to Japan. They told him he had been comatose for months, and gave him the nickname Jack. Based on his situation; a plane shot down while heading for Japan from Korea, they figured that he was fighting in the Korean War. They didn't know what he did there, or his rank. He had lost his ID tags and all his other possessions in the plane.

"Jack! Get a move-on!" the doctor shouted at him. Jack looked around the small clinic where he was still recovering, even after nearly four years. He was being summoned into the head doctor's private office. Jack figured it was probably another psychiatrist.

He walked into the office and saw Doc Murphey sitting with a short, thin man with dark, curly hair.

"Jack," Dr. Murphey greeted him, "This is Doctor Sidney Freedman, here to see you." Dr. Freedman looked up at the man standing before him and his jaw dropped open.

"Oh, my good God!!!" he cried out in shock. "That's-that's... Doctor, could I speak to you alone for a second??"

"Sure thing, Sidney. Jack," he addressed the blue-eyed man," Please wait right outside for a moment.

"Yes, Doctor," Jack said. He left the room and sat in the chair outside. He could hear strains of Dr. Freedman's nearly hysterical yelling.

Back inside, Dr. Murphey was trying to calm Sidney down. He was unsure of what was going on, but it was almost as if the psychiatrist knew Jack. Sidney took a deep breath. He gave Dr. Murphey instructions.

"Doc, I want you to get on the phone to Sister Theresa's Orphanage in Korea. Tell them to send Father Francis John Patrick Mulcahy to Tokyo IMMEDIATELY!!!! I need him for this one." Sidney was nearly panicking. If the Chaplain had the same reaction at the sight of this patient, Sidney would know that his imagination wasn't running wild. He had a room prepared for Father Mulcahy and sent in a note for the priest to read.

Father Francis Mulcahy couldn't help but wonder why he was being called to the American recovery clinic in Tokyo. The doctor had stammered out something unintelligible, but the chaplain was pretty sure he caught the name Sidney Freedman. He was in a chopper headed for Tokyo, and he would be there in a few minutes.

When he arrived at the clinic, he found that a room was waiting for him. There was a note on the desk, and Father Mulcahy recognized the scrawled handwriting of the psychiatrist.

*Father,

There's a patient here who I was sent to talk with. He suffered extreme head injuries four years ago. He was in a coma for 8 months, and he still doesn't know who he is. Nobody seems to, in fact. They call him Jack. I need your help. You and I may be the key to giving "Jack" his life back. Tomorrow at 2:30 PM, please be ready in Doctor Murphey's office.

Sidney Freedman.*

The priest was very curious. Who was this Jack? How would he, Francis Mulcahy, be able to help this poor unknown soldier? He fell asleep with questions running through his head.

The next day, Father Mulcahy knocked on Dr. Murphey's door with a shaking hand. The two doctors inside invited him to sit down. Sidney was seated too, looking every bit as nervous as Father Mulcahy felt. Dr. Murphey leaned out the door and said "Please send Jack in now, nurse." The priest kept his head down as the man walked in.. He didn't want to disappoint Sidney, but he felt that there was no way he would know the wounded soldier. After all, he had worked at a M*A*S*H unit in Korea, but the soldiers that went through there were only nameless faces now. All the doctors had been back in the states for two years now.

"Father," Dr. Murphey interrupted his thoughts. "This is Jack. Jack, Father Francis Mulcahy, a friend of Dr. Freedman.

Jack stood in the office, his eyes on the priest, who still had his head down. He didn't understand what was happening, only that Dr. Freedman had become hysterical when he saw Jack, and that they had called in this priest to see him. He thought. He blinked in surprise. How had he known that? Then, the priest looked up at him.

"Good Heavens!" he exclaimed just before he fainted. Sidney had a look on his face that was still partly shock, but it also had an underlying air of confirmed suspicions to it. Quickly, Dr. Murphey revived the priest.

"I'm all right," Father Mulcahy said when he came to. Sidney spoke to him gently.

"Father, are you seeing the same man standing here that I see? Is this who I think it is?"

"You mean to say that after four years, somebody can identify this man?" Dr. Murphey asked, excited.

"Doctor," Sidney said slowly, "Let me reintroduce 'Jack' for you. Meet Lieutenant Colonel Henry Blake, former CO of the 4077th M*A*S*H in Korea!"

"My God!" the doctor staggered back to his desk and sat down. "We've been trying to identify this man ever since we found him! There had been two men in the plane, and this one was found several yards away. He must have been thrown out on impact. That probably saved his life. As I understood it, There were only supposed to be two men in that thing. We assumed that the two dead men were Henry Blake and the pilot!"

"Where did the third man come from? Who was he?" Father Mulcahy asked. "I remember so vividly being in the OR when Radar O'Reilly came in. He looked horrible, and he announced that Henry's plane was shot down and that there were no survivors." He looked at Henry in amazement. "Why didn't we hear that one man survived?"

"I think I can explain that," Doc Murphey said. "But before I do, you both look like you could use a drink. And Jack, have a seat." he poured three glasses of scotch and took a long drink from his. "When we notified the M*A*S*H of the crash, we said that the two men had died. We didn't mention that there had been a third man. Jack-Henry- was found unconscious several yards away from the wreckage. We didn't know whether he had been on the plane, or just in the wrong place at the wrong time. When he awoke from the coma, we assumed that he had been on the plane."

Sidney looked over at the blue-eyed man that he hadn't seen for so long. "Jack," he addressed him by the assumed name." Jack, can you tell us anything about yourself?"

Jack was confused. he didn't know who these two men were, but they seemed to know him. He was frightened, unsure of what would happen to him. he answered the psychiatrist's question in his quiet voice.

"No, sir."

Sidney addressed him again. "Jack, I'm going to say some names. Tell me if they mean anything to you, Jack. Henry Blake. Lorraine Blake. Walter O'Reilly. Franklin Burns. John McIntyre. Benjamin Pierce. Margaret Houlihan. Francis John Patrick Mulcahy." Sidney named each slowly, but saw no recognition in his subject's eyes.

"Listen to me. Your name is Henry Blake. You are a doctor, a surgeon from the 4077th M*A*S*H unit in Korea. Does any of this sound familiar?" Jack shook his head.

"We'll talk to him tomorrow." Sidney said patiently. "Don't notify anyone until we have his memory back."