M*A*S*H (1972–1983): Season 1, Episode 23 - Ceasefire - full transcript

Brigadier General Clayton calls Henry to give him the straight poop, directly from CINCOMPAC: It is unofficial, but a cease-fire has been arranged! Everyone is over the moon--everyone but Trapper; he is a cynical, old campaigner and non-believer. Trapper will believe in the cease-fire when he is back home refusing his first house call. As they all get drunker and drunker, everyone handles what the news means to him/her differently. Radar seeks meaning in messages gathered for his scrapbook. Margaret goes from brave princess to suicidal sweetheart. Klinger sells his entire clothing collection while Hawkeye gives away every person, place and thing within his reach. When the new morning sun rises, who will be the first to snatch at it? Will Trapper make Hawkeye pay him the $50.00, on top of everything else?

[Hawkeye] Uh, forget this stuff.
Get me some...

- [Hot Lips] Fifty-fifty?
- Yeah.

- Anybody know what day this is?
- Thursday.

We been here since Tuesday.
Three hours' sleep in three days.

What's the difference?
It keeps us off the streets.
Gimme a clamp.

Quit beefing! We've still got a line
of casualties. Gimme a sponge.

Maybe we should get
an unlisted number, huh?

All right, okay. Unhook him,
and get him outta here.

Yes, Doctor.

One more survivor.
Have to get him next time.

What are these forms for?



Forms to get the forms that
enable us to order more forms, sir.

Right.

Here you go, Henry.

Wait a minute.
You don't have to sign that.

That's the phone number
of the Dai Ichi Hotel in Tokyo.

- Which is where we're off to.
- Till you need us.

- Room 309.
- Real beds.

- Room service!
- Hot and cold running maids.

Who said you could go?

The war's been sending us
casualties on a conveyor belt.

If we don't get some rest, we're
going to start screwing up surgically.

Well, have a good time.

- Call us if you need us.
- Yeah, but don't need us.

Radar, two of your best passes.



4077 th MASH.
Colonel Blake's office.

- Did you hear a bell?
- His head's in another time zone.

Just be sure your post-op patients
are all okay before you take off.

- Henry, everything is okay.
- Yes, sir, just a minute. Sir?

Radar, I don't wanna
talk to anybody.

Just tell 'em I'm beat
right down to my socks.

General Clayton, Colonel Blake says
he's really beat right down...

Morning, General!
Henry Blake here.

Morning, General!
Henry Blake here.

Henry,
are you sitting down?

- No, sir!
- Maybe you'd better.

- Yes, sir.
- He giving you calisthenics
over the phone?

Quiet, Pierce.

Henry, it won't be official
for a couple of hours yet,

but a cease-fire
has been arranged.

I say again, a cease-fire!

- A cease-fire?
- What?

Cease-fire? Does that mean
we can go home?

A cease-fire?
General, are you sure?

I've just been on the phone
with CI NCOMPAC.
Is that good enough for you?

He got it from CI NCOMPAC.

I don't care if he got it
from NI NCOMPOOP!
The shooting's over!

General Clayton? This is
Benjamin Franklin Pierce.

I realize you're a general and I'm just
a captain, but I wanna have your baby.

I mean it! I want your baby!
I'll kiss all your stars!

Look, uh...

Listen, listen. I'll be
up there tonight...

for a final drink with
my favorite MASH outfit.

That's terrific, General.
Just terrific. What's that?

Yes, sir, I'll tell Major Houlihan
that you look forward to seeing her.

If she doesn't want you,
there's always me!

No, just, uh...
Nothing, General, nothing.

Okay, yes, sir. We'll see you tonight.
And thanks for the great news.

- Well, how about that?
- I don't know.

I'm gonna get drunk for a week.
Sober up, get back in shape.

- And get drunk for a month again.
- Listen, hold it, Pierce.

Look, the general was
just giving me advance notice.

I don't want this to get out
until it's official.

Not one word to anybody.
Understood?

- Understood.
- We will keep it very quiet,
if that's what you want.

Hey, Colonel, did you hear? There's
a cease-fire, effective immediately!

We won't say a word, Henry.
You can depend on us.

[Siren Wailing,
Party Horns Blowing]

[Man On P.A. System]
Attention! Attention, all personnel.

Any rumors regarding
a cease-fire are not official.

All personnel are ordered to continue
regular duties until further notice.

[Laughs] Honey, mine
was the Scotch and water.

Ah, Corporal Klinger.
Ready for duty, I see.

- What's going on?
What's all the hoo-hah?
- Cease-fire. The war is over.

- You're kidding!
- Have I ever lied to you, Miss?

If it's true, you won't have to buck
for a psycho discharge anymore.

Terrific! But I'm stuck
with a dozen dresses!

Gentlemen,
I give you peace.

Sweet, quiet, monotonous,

lovely, life-restoring,
harmonious, tranquil,

glad-about-it,
mad-about-it peace.

I'll drink to it.
But I don't believe it.

- Come again?
- It's the same story in every war.

The big guys, they yell "cease-fire,"
there's dancing in the streets,

then they pull the switch
and it starts all over again.

Trapper, it's over!

No more meatball surgery!

No more putting guys
together again...

so they can be killed
at a more convenient time.

No more living in Shangri-la,

buttering our bread every morning
with D.D.T. Powder.

It's finished!

This whole damn, cursed war is over!

I'll believe that when I'm back home
refusing my first house call.

- You really don't believe it's real?
- With all my cynical heart.

I bet you it is.
I bet you anything you want.

I'll bet you 50 bucks
they're not playing around.

You got a bet!

- I hate to take your money.
- I only hope you will.

They're passing out champagne.
I thought you guys might like some.

Nah, I'll stick with gin.
Champagne is just ginger ale
that knows somebody.

Hey, one more drink
and that's it.

After that, we operate
and sink your floating kidney.

You know, life won't be the same
without you both and "The Swamp."

You'll miss this?

He's queer for garbage dumps.

I don't like to ask, but if there's
some little souvenir I could have...

Take it all!
Help yourself.

- Tell your family.
The whole camp is up for grabs.
- Wait a minute. Steady, Hawk.

The U.S. Army always leaves
stuff behind after war.

There's a tribe on Guadalcanal
made a god out of a '39 Chevy.

Frank, you're not
to worry about me.

You go back to your
practice and your work...

and your house
and your two cars...

and your country club
and your friends...

and your way of life
and your...

wife.

I'm not going to make
any trouble.

Gosh, Margaret, it's swell
of you to be so brave.

Brave of you to be so swell.

I just want you to be happy.

[Siren Wailing,
Party Horns Blowing]

I wish you could meet my wife.
You'd like her.

Don't press your luck, Frank.

- Major Houlihan? It's me, Radar.
- What do you want?

I'm asking everyone to...
write something in my scrapbook.

- Oh, I'm busy right now.
- I just thought you and Major Burns...

- Major Burns is not here.
- Then how can you be busy?

- Get lost!
- Yes, ma'am.

"Dear Radar, this is
the best restaurant I ever ate in.

Good luck. Hawkeye."

- That's what you want to say?
- Right. Simple, but with feeling.

And loaded with emotion.

Trapper, sign my book?

I'll sign it when
the real cease-fire comes.

How can you turn him down?

His liver's where
his heart oughta be.

- What's where his liver oughta be?
- Onions.

"Compliments of a friend"?

Boy, you guys sure know how
to reach somebody.

[Siren Wailing,
Party Horns Blowing]

[Party Horn Blows]

Friends, friends...
Civilians of all ranks.

This is the happiest... in fact,
this is the only happy day of the war.

And it is fitting that we pause
to offer a prayer of thanksgiving...

to the merciful God who has delivered
us from this terrible conflict.

Let us pray in silence,
and remember...

those of our comrades
who have fallen.

- Amen.
- [Together] Amen.

And now, on with
the secular festivities!

[Siren Wailing,
Party Horns Blowing]

[Man On P.A. System]
Attention, all personnel.

A reminder that the cease-fire
is not officially in effect.

All materiel and equipment remain
the property of the United States Army.

Anyone found
in possession of said property...

will be prosecuted
to the full extent of military law.

- Hold it, hold it, Hawkeye.
- I'm trying!

Somebody might walk in.

They're all doctors and nurses.

What could we possibly do
that would surprise them?

- I don't know.
- Let's see what we can come up with.

I'm gonna need
that ear after the war.

It's my duty to give you
a thorough physical before you go.

Speaking of which...
Hawkeye?

It's very difficult to talk
with your teeth in my neck.

It's even harder for me.

Please, can we be
serious for a minute?

Thirty seconds is my record.

What happens,
now that the war is over?

Well, both sides
will say they won,

Detroit will go back
to making cars again,

and I can treat kids
for mumps instead of shrapnel.

What happens to "us"
is what I had in mind.

- Us?
- Mm-hmm. As in, you and me.

Oh, that us! Right. Right.

We've been very close.

Cast a single shadow, as it were.

- You never exactly promised marriage.
- Bless your memory.

But you did use all
the right words:

Love, togetherness,

future.

Lieutenant, I have
a confession to make.

[Sighs]
You might've worn your ring.

And get thrown out of
the Cad Society?

- Kids too?
- Five.

It gets very cold
up there in Vermont.

I'm sure gonna miss you
when I get back.

Oh, well, you don't have
to wait till then.

- Sir?
- [Knocking]

Howdy, Radar.
How's it goin', old kid, old sock?

- Happy, huh, sir?
- Happy? Oh, boy.

In a few days, I'm gonna be back home
tripping over kids' roller skates again,

cursing out the crabgrass,

fuming about my income taxes,

and being impossible
with my receptionist...

and turning gray over
my wife's checking account...

and loving every minute of it.

- Ow! [Whistles]
- Did you cut yourself, sir?

Yeah, no problem.
Good old civilian blood again.

Nice and red.

Cut myself last week
and it came out khaki.

[Laughing]
That's a good one.

Thank you.

Did you get a chance to sign it, sir?

Whatever it is, you sign it. The only
business I want to do with the army...

is have 'em validate my
parking ticket so I can go home.

No, sir, I mean my scrapbook.
Did you get a chance to sign
my scrapbook?

Oh, I'm sorry, Radar.
Of course. It's right there.

Oh!

"For Radar O'Reilly,
my comrade-in-arms,

"a swell egg who made Korea
something special.

"Thanks for everything.
Good luck.

Affectionately,
your friend, Henry Blake."

Okay?

Oh, yes, sir.

Do you mean this?

Every word of it.

- You felt like a son to me.
- Sometimes I felt like
you were my father.

[Laughing]

Maybe we should get together
when we get back to the States.

Hey, now that's a great idea!

Why don't you call me
and we'll have lunch.

You live in Bloomington, Illinois
and I live in Iowa.

- That's true.
- But you know, it would only
take a day or so on the bus.

And then we could have
a whole long lunch together.

Sure. Yeah.
Just gimme a buzz.

Oh, yes, sir.

Well, you...
But I mean... not right away.

You see, I'm gonna be busy
kinda settling in and all.

Oh. Oh, I understand that, sir.

Okay, you got it.

Then how about...

two months from when we
get home... on a Saturday?

Yeah, I'll, I'll tell you what.

Let's just kinda leave it loose
for now, huh? But we'll do it.

Okay, but we'll, uh,
leave it loose for now.

- I'm not gonna make
any trouble, Frank.
- I know, darling.

No phone calls, no letters.

I won't even write you
at your office.

Margaret, you're a real prince.

I mean, "cess."
Cessprince.

Princess.

Frank, you're such a ninny.

Margaret, please! I'm supposed
to keep my middle ear dry.

It's Private Gilbert. You operated
on him for shrapnel wounds.

- What's wrong?
- Well, he's awake, but restless.

There's no improvement.

You trying to louse up
the cease-fire, Gilbert?

To tell you the truth,
it, it, it would've been nice...

if they could've stopped the fighting
before somebody aimed at me, sir.

Next time, hide behind
a tree with an officer.

Now, I'm giving you
a direct order.

You start getting better
immediately, or I'll operate again.

This time, blindfolded and sober.

I think I'm starting
to feel better already, sir.

- Keep trying.
- Yes, sir.

Give him a unit of blood.
And threaten patient every two hours.

Captain, could I speak to you
a minute please?

Certainly, Nurse Cutler.

That's just for the cease-fire.

I can hardly wait
for the peace treaty.

Hawkeye, we have to make plans.

How's this?

I'll get a bottle of wine, you get
the keys to the laundry room,

we'll both get in the dryer
and take a trip to the moon.

I'm talking about
our going-home plans.

- "Our"?
- Yours and mine.

As in you and me, as in "us"?
Never mind.

The way we've been, I certainly
got the impression that we were...

Lieutenant, darling,
I have an affliction...

that will make any long-term
relationship between us impossible.

Hawkeye, what is it?

As we're both medical people
I'll speak professionally.

I'm suffering
from terminal marriage.

Hey, take it easy.
That's stunning, absolutely stunning.

Girls, you'll find what you want,
everything half-price.

- Wait a minute. Kling...
- All sales final.

Klinger, wait a minute.
What's going on here?

This is my cease-fire sale.
I don't need this stuff anymore.

- I'll take this one.
- Yes, that's $5.00.

- That was always my favorite.
- I'll wear it out.

Here. These look
great with that.

- Uh...
- No charge.

Thanks!

These low heels are killing me.

Klinger, you gonna buy
all this stuff back...

when the cease-fire
turns out to be a phony?

A phony?

Sure. Big boys change their minds
and the shooting starts all over again.

- You really believe that?
- Believe it? I bet 50 bucks on it.

You have this in a size 12?

It's for my mother!

- I won't make any trouble, Frank.
- I know, darling.

- Not one bit.
- You're a peach, Margaret.

Dead women can't
make any trouble, right?

Right!

Dead who?

I was just gonna
stick my head in an oven...

and it'll be over in seconds.

And I won't even
mention your name in my note.

Margaret, what are you saying?

I can't live without you, Frank!
You're all I have.

I love your thin little lips,

and the bristles where
you shave your earlobes.

- Margaret!
- Take me home with you, Frank.

Margaret, my wife!

I'll learn to love her.
We'll get along, you'll see.

- I'll be your nurse.
- She's my nurse.

Then I'll be your patient.
I'll catch something terrible...

and you'll have
to see me every day.

I'll pay, Frank.
You can even bill me.

Darling, take me home with you.
I won't make any problems.

Is now a good time?

- See you after supper?
- Uh-huh.

- Same place?
- Mm-hmm.

I've never seen you
quite like this before.

- I just found out you're married!
- You don't mind?

Just check your sleeping bag...

for a land mine, lover!

[Tapping Glass With Spoon]

- Uh, can we settle down, people?
- Quiet!

Uh, General Clayton,
fellow officers,

nurses,

N.C.O. S, and our guest wounded.

Welcome to
the 4077 th Cease-Fire Party.

This being
a very special occasion,

I'm not going to take up time
by making a speech.

[Cheering]

Instead, I'd like to
introduce a fine surgeon,

a real cutup...

Captain Hawkeye Pierce.

First of all, in gratitude to the
United Nations for setting us all free,

I am hereby forgetting
these poker I.O.U. S...

to the sum
of some $1,500.

[Cheering]

You realize, I can make all that back
with just one rich kid with bad tonsils.

And secondly, I would like
to present a pictorial tribute...

to the man who brought us
this great cease-fire news,

Brigadier General Clayton.

You've paid us many kind
and thoughtful visits, General.

And I've always tried
to mark every memorable occasion...

with a photograph or two.

If you'd all turn around.
Lights, please.

How many of us will forget
this always stirring sight?

Or this one?

Of course,
like every great warrior,

you had your warm
and human side.

Ah, Pierce, I think that...

But your warm side
had an even warmer side.

Margaret!

Uh, he's just
a fr-friend of the family.

Uh, can we have
the lights please?

[Cheering, Applause]

If there wasn't
a cease-fire, Pierce...

Ah, why don't
we have a song?

- "The Star-Spangled Banner."
- How does it go?

Play it, will you, Father?

#... auld acquaintance
be forgot #

#And never brought
to mind #

# Should auld acquaintance
be forgot #

# Should auld acquaintance
be forgot #

#And days of
auld lang syne ##

Hold it. Hold it!
May I have your attention, please?

I just received a communique
from CI NCOMPAC.

There is no cease-fire.

Well, we're back
in business again.

[Man On P.A. System]
Attention, all personnel.

All personnel report to surgery.

Incoming wounded.
Incoming wounded.

All personnel, report
to surgery immediately!

Here you are, Scrooge.

Thanks. You should've
listened to me, pal.

If the same thing happened,
I'd still make the same bet.

On the level?

It was a glimpse of daylight at the end
of the damned tunnel. It was worth it.

- You paid a pretty heavy price.
- So I blew $1,500 in I.O.U.s.

Gave up three nurses for
an imaginary wife and family.

And Clayton's got my butt
in his gun sight.

My hopefulness remains intact.

Good for you.

Would you mind turning the other way?
I'd hate for you to see a grown man cry.