The hit 1972 sitcom “M*A*S*H” introduced the world to a number of memorable and beloved characters, from the smart-mouthed yet compassionate Captain Benjamin Franklin “Hawkeye” Pierce to his endearing friend, Captain B.J. Hunnicutt. Almost every character had stuck in the minds of the fans.
One of the characters that often featured but was easily overlooked by his military counterparts due to his nervous nature was the 4077 MASH unit’s company clerk, Corporal Walter Eugene “Radar” O’Reilly. Although many of the staff on the base tended to take Radar’s effort for granted, the fans sure noticed him.
Radar was portrayed by the acclaimed actor Gary Burghoff from the start of the TV show in 1972 until the seventh season, which aired in 1979. Although fans clamored for more of the unassuming clerk, Burghoff revealed that he needed to step away from the show to rekindle his personal relationships and fight burnout.
“M*A*S*H’s” Influence and Burghoff’s Personal Identity
Although Burghoff enjoyed playing Radar, the role became increasingly demanding. The actor commented that it became difficult to separate himself from his character in the eyes of the public, which soon became tedious. He also noted that he despised being fawned over by the crowds:
“Aw, I know I’m cute. Cute, cute, CUTE! I was always cute because I was always the smallest kid on the block. I hate cute.”
Everyone saw Burghoff as an adorable, short, timid character as they’d known him on-screen and on the stage for many years. However, after years of being looked down upon, both metaphorically and physically speaking, Burghoff grew tired of the persona so easily attributed to him by scores of people he had never even met.
The actor lashed out against this view of him as a cute little fellow by defending his height. As he so rightly pointed out, 5 feet 6 inches isn’t irregularly short, and he would have seen the tops of Arte Johnson or Mickey Rooney’s heads had they ever met. Nonetheless, the persona stuck.
Luckily for all his fans, Burghoff didn’t let his disability stand in his way, and he pursued his dream of becoming an actor.
Despite his misgivings about how others perceived him, Burghoff’s fellow cast members adored him. The director Charles Dubin recalled working with Burghoff before he left “M*A*S*H,” noting how caring and pleasant Burghoff was to everyone on set. However, Burghoff had another aspect of himself that drove down his self-esteem.
Burghoff had been born with a congenital disability called Brachydactyly, a form of Poland Syndrome. The condition left the actor with three fingers on his left hand that were noticeably smaller than the rest of his digits, and the abnormality had plagued him since he was a small child. The actor commented:
“Of course, this defect affected me while I was growing up. I suppose when I was very young, I knew my disability would set me apart and make me special.”
Luckily for all his fans, Burghoff didn’t let his disability stand in his way, and he pursued his dream of becoming an actor. Yet, becoming a fan-favorite on one of the most iconic TV shows America had ever produced never managed to quell his insecurities about his stout fingers and stocky frame.
Throughout his run on “M*A*S*H,” Burghoff tried to hide his left hand from the camera. He would often position himself so that the camera could only see one side of his body and usually gestured with his right if the scene required it, although the actor would be obligated to use both hands now and again.
In one of the earliest episodes, viewers were introduced to Radar as he stood in an open area, wearing a greyish shirt and his trademark cap. As the actor turned around and looked at the sky — once again hearing approaching helicopters before everyone else — the camera briefly panned over both his hands holding a football.
When Colonel Sherman T. Potter first made his appearance on the show, taking over from the beloved Lieutenant Colonel Henry Blake, Radar and the new commander shared a scene where they first met. As Colonel Potter exited the room to find the latrines, the camera centered on Burghoff’s upper body as he opened a box with both hands.
Another infamous scene caught Burghoff with both hands on camera. During a regular morning salute, with the loathsome Major Frank Burns leading the ceremony, Radar does his usual morning salute with a bugle. In a hilarious twist, one of the men fires off the ceremonial canon at Burns’s behest.
Naturally, Radar gets the short end of the stick as the cannonball flies directly at him, knocking his instrument clean out of his hands. In the next few seconds, Burghoff turns toward the camera in a pantomime of rage, balling his fists and stomping in outrage. Here, both his hands can be seen for a brief second.
In one of the later episodes, the writers showed off Radar’s softer side when he cuddled his pet guinea pig, Babette. Naturally, Radar stood with his left hand beneath his right, but just as he started to sing, Father John Mulcahy called for him. Burghoff’s hands were visible again as he put the Babette away.
One of the scenes where Burghoff openly showed his left hand came as part of another gag the show pulled. At the start of the scene, Radar could be seen walking across a dirt road while two other military personnel walked away from the camera. The man on Radar’s right first lifted his hand in salute, followed shortly by one on the left.
Radar, the pleasant character he was, lifted his right hand in response to the first salute, as military etiquette dictates. Caught off guard by the quick second salute, Radar lifted his left hand as well, essentially performing a double salute. Feeling sheepish, he frowned and lowered his hands slowly in one of Burghoff’s classic displays of confusion.
My Stepdaughter Gifted Me a Car for My 55th Birthday – When I Opened the Glove Compartment, I Went Pale
A car from my stepdaughter Emily was the last thing I expected on my 55th birthday, especially considering our history. She handed me the keys, and I thought that was it. But then she mentioned another gift hidden in the glove compartment. What I found there changed our relationship forever.
I’ve always said that being a stepmom is like walking a tightrope. You’re trying to balance between being a parent and not overstepping. Between loving unconditionally and respecting boundaries.
A woman crying | Source: Pexels
For me, that tightrope has been my life for the past ten years with my stepdaughter, Emily.
I met her father, David, at my workplace. I was new there and he helped me with a lot of things. We instantly became friends.
Now that I look back at it, I feel like fate had given me my new job so I could meet David. We had so many things in common, and it took us only about a few months to start dating.
A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels
David told me everything about his life. He had lost his wife about a year before we met, and his life revolved around his little girl, Emily. He loved her to pieces.
As our relationship grew stronger, I couldn’t help but wonder about our future.
One evening, as we sat on his porch swing after dinner, I decided to broach the subject.
“David,” I said, my heart racing, “where do you see this going? Us, I mean.”
He turned to me. “Monica, I love you. I want to spend my life with you. But…”
A close-up shot of a man | Source: Midjourney
“But what?” I prompted gently.
“I want to marry you, but I’m worried about Emily. I don’t know how she’d react to having a stepmom.”
I reached out and took his hand. “David, it’s going to be fine. My meetings with Emily have always gone well. She’s a sweet girl.”
“You’re right,” he said as he smiled. “Emily does seem to like you. She always asks when you’re coming over next.”
A little girl | Source: Pexels
“See?” I squeezed his hand. “We’ll take it one step at a time. Emily and I will find our way.”
“You’re right. We’ll make this work. Together.”
When I married David, I knew I was stepping into a complicated situation. Emily was just 12, still raw from losing her mom two years earlier. I knew it would be difficult for her to accept me as her stepmother, but I thought things would get better.
I was wrong.
A woman sitting at a table | Source: Pexels
I remember the first time I met her. I remember how her big brown eyes looked up at me with concern.
“Hi Emily,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m Monica. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Hi,” she mumbled, before quickly excusing herself to her room.
That moment set the tone for our relationship. I tried my best to be there for her, but Emily always seemed to keep me at arm’s length.
A little girl looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
It wasn’t that she was mean or disrespectful. No, it was more subtle than that. She was polite but distant, like a guest in her own home.
I remember her 13th birthday. I’d spent hours decorating the house and baking her favorite chocolate cake. When Emily came home from school, her eyes widened at the sight.
“Wow,” she’d said, a small smile playing on her lips. “This looks great. Thanks, Monica.”
It was a nice moment, but there was still that invisible barrier.
A chocolate cake | Source: Pexels
She didn’t hug me or show much excitement. It was like she was holding back, afraid to let herself get too close.
Despite the challenges, David and I had a good relationship. He was patient and always encouraged me to keep trying with Emily.
We were happy. So happy. But then, five years ago, my world turned upside down.
David was killed in a car accident, leaving Emily and me alone.
I still remember that awful day.
A woman crying | Source: Pexels
I was sitting in the living room with Emily, and both of us were shocked.
“What do we do now?” Emily asked in a trembling voice.
I reached out and took her hand.
“We stick together,” I said. “We’re a family and we’ll get through this together, okay?”
She nodded and squeezed my hand tightly. It was the closest we’d ever been, united in our grief.
After David’s death, it was just Emily and me. We were the only family for each other.
A woman hugging her daughter | Source: Pexels
I never wanted to replace her mom. I just wanted to be someone she could rely on.
But no matter how many birthdays or milestones we celebrated together, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she merely tolerated me. It was like there was an invisible barrier between us that I couldn’t break through.
As Emily grew up, she became more independent and spent a lot of time away from home. She eventually got a great job in marketing and was doing well for herself.
A woman using her laptop | Source: Midjourney
I was proud of her accomplishments but also worried about the emotional distance that seemed to have grown even wider between us.
I’d always imagined we’d have a loving relationship, but instead, our interactions felt transactional.
There were times when Emily would barely acknowledge my existence at family gatherings, and her silence felt like a constant reminder that I was an outsider in her life.
Last Thanksgiving made me realize she didn’t value my presence at all.
A Thanksgiving dinner spread | Source: Pexels
My sister and her family had come over, and Emily had arrived late. She just gave a quick hello before immersing herself in conversation with her cousins.
My sister pulled me aside when she noticed this.
“Everything okay with you and Emily?” she asked.
“Oh, you know how kids are,” I forced a smile. “She’s just busy with work and her own life.”
But inside, my heart was breaking.
I wanted so badly to be close to her, to have the kind of relationship where we could talk about anything and everything.
A sad woman | Source: Pexels
Fast forward to last week, just before my 55th birthday.
Emily called me and said she wanted to take me out for a special birthday dinner. I was touched. Usually, she only sent me a card and flowers, but this felt different.
I wondered if this was finally a sign that she was starting to see me as more than just her dad’s second wife.
She picked me up in a sleek red convertible.
A red convertible | Source: Pexels
At first, I thought she was just picking me up in a rental, but then she stepped out, handed me the keys, and said, “Happy birthday. This is for you.”
Her voice was flat, almost mechanical. It seemed like she was fulfilling an obligation rather than giving a genuine gift.
I tried to muster a smile and said, “Thank you, Emily. This is so generous of you.”
Then, we went for dinner.
I thought it would be an opportunity for us to bond, but our conversation felt forced and awkward.
A restaurant table | Source: Pexels
At that point, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the car was a way for Emily to buy her way out of guilt or some sense of duty she felt toward me.
Was this her way of finally cutting ties? Was this a goodbye gift?
On the drive home, I was consumed by these thoughts. My heart ached at the possibility that Emily had only ever seen me as a temporary figure in her life.
As we parked in the driveway, Emily mentioned there was something in the glove compartment for me.
A car’s interior | Source: Pexels
“It’s a part of your gift,” she said.
My hands trembled as I opened it and found a small stack of papers inside.
As I pulled them out, my heart skipped a beat. They were drawings — childhood drawings that Emily had made years ago. I went pale.
The drawings were simple and sweet, depicting our little family. I recognized myself in them, always drawn with a big smile. The stick-figure version of me was labeled “Mom.”
A child’s drawing | Source: Pexels
Each drawing showed us together, doing mundane things like baking or gardening, and they all had the same caption: “Mom and Me.”
Tears welled up in my eyes as the realization hit me.
All those years, I thought I was just a stepmom, someone Emily tolerated. But these drawings were proof that she saw me as her mom. That she loved me all along.
“Emily, these drawings… I don’t know what to say.”
“I’ve always loved you, Mom,” she said.
A young woman in a car, smiling | Source: Midjourney
“I just didn’t know how to say it. It felt like I was betraying my birth mom if I called you ‘Mom,’ too. But you’ve been there for me through everything, and I want you to know that I see you as my mom. I always have.”
I was speechless. The tears came then, and we hugged each other tightly, both of us crying and laughing at the same time. All the years of uncertainty, all the walls between us, seemed to crumble in an instant.
A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
We spent the rest of the evening talking about everything. Her fears, my doubts, and all the moments we had shared that meant more to each of us than the other realized.
It was like a weight had been lifted, and for the first time, I truly felt like Emily’s mom.
If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: George’s absence haunts their home, his memory wrapped in his shirt that Mariana clutches each night. Yet, it wasn’t his death that shattered her… it was her stepdaughter Susan’s demand for his assets. When she finally gave in, a twist emerged, leaving Susan furious and Mariana oddly at peace.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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