M*A*S*H (1972–1983): Season 10, Episode 14 - The Tooth Shall Set You Free - full transcript

♪♪♪ (theme)

(chatter)

Hang some plasma here
and prep his chest, stat.

We'll squeeze you in,
but next time

try to make an appointment.

Leg wound, Doctor.
Could be a fracture.

Well, well, a diagnosis
from young Dr. Houlihan.

I was just
trying to help.

Then leave the diagnosis
to me, huh?

(clears throat)

All right,
get him to X‐ray.



Leg wound.
Possible fracture.

(chatter)

What's the story here?
I thought we had
the night off.

I bet they weren't
planning on this, either.

They're all
combat engineers.

We finished
the pontoon bridge

just in time for
the North Koreans

to use it for
mortar practice.

Huh. A bridge that
takes its own toll.

The most difficult operation
I performed all night

was sewing my eyelids open.

I was treating a kid who
had been shot four times,

and he saw me, and he said,

"Boy, doc,
you look terrible."



(groans)

Something the matter,
Winchester?

Mm, no, no, no, no, no.
Everything's just peachy.

I'm going to
drink my coffee

as soon as
the spoon dissolves.

He's been a gloomy Gus
all night.

‐Sequel to being
a sourpuss all day.
‐(groans)

What's going on there,
Winchester?

You got a little twinge
in your tusk?

Oh, no. Everything's fine.
Nothing wrong with my mouth.

Then try to keep
a civil tongue in it.

Try keeping yours shut.

See?

I knew he couldn't stay
in a bad mood forever.

Excuse me. Have you
seen Colonel Potter?

I'm afraid I have.

You must be Colonel Potter.

At this time of the night,
I'll take your word for it.

Major Weems,
358 Combat Engineers.

A‐ha. I believe
a number of your boys
just signed our guest book.

‐In blood, unfortunately.
‐How are they doing?

Well, the returns
aren't all in yet,

but it looks like they're
gonna pull through.

Yeah. We got pounded
pretty bad again.

You fellas
ought to think about
relocating your business.

‐I hear Florida's nice.
‐(chuckles)

I couldn't agree
with you more. Thank you.

I told Command
this bridge wasn't worth
all the casualties.

Their response was,
"Strategically imperative

until
operationally rescinded."

Mm. Direct from
the double‐talk room
of the Pentagon.

Do you want some coffee,
Major?

Yeah. Thanks.

You think I could
see my men now?

You came to see your men
at 3:00 in the morning?

I know it's late,
but these, uh‐‐

these men are
special to me.

They need their sleep.
I'll bet you do too.

How about at the first
cock‐a‐doodle?

There's a spare bunk
in our tent.

I'm sold.

Ohh, oh‐ho.

(grunt)

I believe
you've already met
Major Winchester,

our official ambassador
of bad will.

‐Not officially.
How do you do, Major?
‐(gasping)

A simple hello would do.

Don't mind him.
He's not having
a toothache.

That's your bunk over there.

You like your mattress
with one lump or two?

Oh, that's a big step up
from a foxhole.

I haven't had a day off
in five months.

If you want
a couple of days' rest,

we'll be glad to
put you down for

48 hours' worth of
24‐hour flu.

Oh, that's tempting.

The only trouble is,
I feel guilty sleeping
in a bed

when the only way
my men get one is
by getting wounded.

You know, Major,
we don't often bump
into combat officers

who have time to visit
their wounded.

I've always thought
there was more
to being a C. O.

than just
barking out orders.

Oh, I better sack out.
See you in the morning.

Yeah, we'll leave
a wake‐up call for peacetime.

Night.

(Charles groaning)

Beej, don't forget.
In the morning,

it's your turn
to milk Charles.

‐Increase his morphine
to a quarter grain.
‐Yes, Doctor.

(groans)
By the way,

has the elixir of codeine
arrived yet?

‐It just came in
this morning.
‐Good.

Are you going to give him
codeine on top of morphine?

If I want another
doctor's opinion,

I will call for
Nurse Houlihan.

‐Morning, Doc.
‐I don't want to
talk about it.

Believe me,
you're better off.

How's he doing?

He's gonna be okay.
He should be coming
around soon.

I'm sorry this
had to happen, son,

and I'm going to see to it
that it doesn't happen again.

You're going home.

Uh, he's not hurt
that badly.

I'd go easy with the
"going home" talk.

How's Sturdivant doing?

He wasn't as lucky.
He got hammered pretty hard.

How soon before
I get him back?

You won't.
From here he goes to
the 121st evac.

Before he knows it,
he'll be stateside

looking for himself
in the newsreels.

Are you sure?

He's a crackerjack
heavy‐equipment man.

Yeah, well, I'm sorry,

but there's no place to hang
an I. V. on a bulldozer.

You'll be getting
Dorsey back.

Well, wait a minute.
This isn't a trade‐off.

After what Dorsey's
been through,

he's earned
a trip home too.

Come here,
come here.

Look, as far as
I'm concerned,

everybody who's not Korean
ought to go home,

but Dorsey just doesn't
qualify medically.

Captain,
give the kid a break.

Major, he's not
that seriously wounded.

All right, Captain,
I'll tell you
why I'm concerned.

Corporal Dorsey's from
a very poor family.

He's an only child,
and it's a real hardship
on his parents

not to have him working
on their farm.

All right.
I‐‐I'll see what I can do.

Thanks.

I had a feeling
I could count on you.

Ah.

What have you got there,
Major?

Margaret, how nice being
sneaked up on by you.

What was that that you just
put in your pocket there?

‐My hand. See?
‐I saw you with a bottle
of medicine.

Aha. Formerly a doctor,
now a detective.

I'm in charge of
the inventory here,

and if you don't
hand over that bottle,
I'll have to report you.

Bo‐‐ Oh, yeah.
You must mean this.

It's merely a
pharmaceutical aperitif
for one of my patients.

I saw you take
a drink, Major.

Major, it won't hold up
in court.

‐It's your tooth, isn't it?
‐Aha! Now you're a dentist.

No, I'm not a dentist,
but how long has it been
since you've seen one?

As it happens, I had
a thorough examination

complete with X‐rays
a mere seven years ago.

I remember it as though
it were yesterday.

‐You're afraid, aren't you?
‐Pure piffle!

Woman, a Winchester
can stare adversity
square in the mouth,

even when it
involves techniques

which have remained
unimproved since the
Spanish Inquisition.

But rest assured,
I am not afraid.

Charles, this is the '50s.
There is novocaine.

Come on,
stop being such a baby
and go see a dentist.

Margaret, I have had
minor aches before,

and I know from experience
this will pass.

I can see this is
a lost cause.

Thank you for
giving up on me.

Margaret, now please,
not a word about this
to anyone, huh?

Since you're so certain
this too shall pass,

you won't be
needing these anymore.

(stammering)
Where are you going
with that?

Uh, well, all you need
is a little time.

That bottle you have
in your pocket

should last, oh,
a couple of days.

‐Isn't that right?
‐Absolutely.

Probably I won't even
finish this one.

‐(chuckles)
‐Fine.

(groans)

You should have been
in the paratroopers,
Dorsey.

I've never seen anyone
who can jump so well.

I got lucky. Come on,
I'll give you another chance.

No, I have to be going.

We'll continue
the massacre tomorrow.

Sure thing, Father.

Increase the dosage
to 20,000 units.

How's Sturdivant
doing?

No improvement.

Looks like Dorsey's
doing better.

Well enough to beat the pants
off me four times.

And I thought you were
the king of "kinging."

Oh, I'm afraid
the king is dead.

‐Hey, Father?
‐Yeah?

What would you think of
recommending Dorsey for
a hardship discharge?

Why?
What's the problem?

Well, his family's
pretty strapped,

and they need him
to help out.

Yes, I can imagine
it isn't easy

with all those mouths
to feed.

What mouths?

He just showed me a picture
of his family in Brooklyn.

He's got five little
brothers and sisters.

Anyway, yes, I'll‐‐
I'll speak to him
in the morning.

Well, wait, wait.
Let's not be too hasty.

There's a few things
I want to check out first.

Your, uh‐‐ Your
checkers patsy

tells me you're
from Brooklyn.

Yeah, that's right.

I had a friend in med school
from Brooklyn.

He came from, uh... I think
it was McDonald Avenue.

‐Yeah, that's in Flatbush.
‐What about you?

I'm from Bed‐Stuy.
Bainbridge Street.

Your family still there?

Yeah, all seven of them. Why?

Is there any reason

why your C. O. would think
you live on a farm?

You been talking to my C. O.?

You're a pretty lucky soldier.

He seems like a terrific guy.

Oh, you think so, huh?

Well, I guess

everybody's entitled
to their own opinion.

What's the matter?
You have a problem with him?

My only problem
is that I'm tired.

Now if you'll excuse me,
I think I'd like to turn in.

You got a C. O. who wants
to send a kid home‐‐

so much so he's
willing to lie about it,

and not only is the kid
not grateful,

he doesn't even
like Weems.

Maybe Dorsey's
a malcontent,

and Weems wants
to ship him out.

No, no, no, no.
Speaking as a malcontent,

he didn't strike me
as the type.

So what if Weems feels guilty
because he got the kid shot?

If that were the case,
he'd want to drive Sturdivant
home personally.

‐He wants to keep
Sturdivant.
‐Sturdivant?

He's the white kid,
isn't he?

How could it be racial?
It doesn't even make sense.

Sending Dorsey home
is the biggest favor
he could do for him.

MAN (on P. A.):
Attention. Attention,
all personnel.

Incoming wounded.
No surgeon should be
without one.

I'll be right there.
I'm in the shower!

At least you won't
have to scrub.

They knocked
the bridge out again.

Combat engineers?

MAN: Yeah. Three more.

(groaning)

Uh.

I'm looking for Mr. Jong.

I am he.
And you are who?

I'm Major Charles
Emerson Winchester,

the neighborhood MASH.

Our mutual friend
Rosie of Rosie's bar

referred me to you.

Oh, yes, Rosie.
Fine woman.

‐Any friend of hers is
a customer of mine.
‐Oh.

Uh, Rosie said that you
cured her of lumbago.

What did you
give her for it?

Oh, mixture of ginseng,
powdered deer horn,

and other secret herbs.

Mm. It's a very interesting
place you have here.

Most, uh, medical facilities
are so... sterile.

Oh, thank you.

Now, why have you
come to me?

(clears throat)
Rosie said you work wonders
with all kinds of pain.

I have a throbbing problem
with my tooth.

Have you seen a dentist?

No. I‐‐ No.

That's precisely
why I've come to you.

You use no instruments
of any kind,
is that correct?

All I use
is what you see.

Only products of nature.

Secrets herbs and roots.

Hmm. It's just‐‐
It's just fascinating.

What does this, uh, cure?

Hunger. That's my dinner.

‐Oh.
‐Now let me see.

Hmm. Toothache.

Toothache. Toothache.

‐Here.
‐Now you take this home.

‐Yeah?
‐And put in one quart
boiling water.

‐One quart water.
‐Cook for half hour.

‐Uh‐huh.
‐Drink one cup every hour.

Uh‐huh. Uh, yeah. Okay.

What's in here?

Mixture of ginseng,
powdered deer horn,

and other secret herbs.

Oh.

Uh, that's what you gave
Rosie for lumbago.

You notice, Rosie's
tooth also never hurt.

Well, you're sure
this will work?

I stake my reputation on it.

And when tooth is okay,
you come back.

I give you something
to grow hair.

(boiling)

(groan)

26 out of 40?

Thanks a lot, Barney.
Any time you need anything‐‐

Sorry, can't help you there.

You gotta talk to
the nurses directly.

That's it.
We're all out of MASHes.

Okay,
what do you got?

Bingo. Only 11% of Weems'
unit are Negroes.

They suffer 46%
of the casualties.

There were better odds
in Uncle Tom's Cabin.

‐I actually liked that guy.
‐He fooled everybody.

All the medical units
I talked to

said what a great guy
Major Weems is.

Always came to visit
his wounded.

This guy is giving the army
two faces for the price of one.

(groans)

Ah, mashed potatoes,
huh, Major?

‐Now there's a meal you can
sink your teeth into.
‐(chuckles)

(whimpers)

Winchester, are you
in excruciating pain,

or are you just
being yourself?

I‐‐ I merely slept wrong,
sir. It's my jaw.

If you don't get that chopper
checked, it'll abscess,

and I'll be out
one surgeon.

Sir, I swear to you, there's
absolutely nothing wrong.

You're lying through
what's left of your teeth.

I am not.

In that case,

I owe you an apology.

I accept.

Back where I come from,

when one man
wrongly accuses another,

he is expected to
atone for it,

and seeing as how the cook

slipped his old C. O.
a preview of Sunday's dessert,

the least I can do
is pass it on to you.

You like ice cream,
Winchester?

Oh, gee. No, sir,
I couldn't.

Why not?

Because

my mother never
let me have dessert

‐until I'd finished
all my vegetables.
‐Well, well.

Seeing as I outrank Mommy,
eat this.

I'd love to.

Oh! It's strawberry.
It gives me hives.

We'll top it off with
some calamine lotion.

‐Now start shoveling.
‐But, Colonel, I‐‐

Present... spoon!

Mmm.

Satisfied?

Well, I'll be darned.

If you'll excuse me,
Colonel.

I think I've had enough.
Good afternoon, sir.

Gentlemen.

Colonel.

I guess that molar's
on the mend.

(Charles screams)

That tears it. I'm getting
him a dentist right now.

‐Wait a minute, Colonel.
‐We've got something

a little more painful
to deal with.

(groans)

‐Sure is a nice night.
‐Mm‐hmm.

Except right here.

Smells like somebody
held chemistry class
in a sweat sock.

‐Mm‐hmm.
‐(Charles groans)

‐Keep it down to
a dull moo, Charles.
‐Evening, boys.

See you're just
sitting and rocking on
the front porch tonight.

‐Yeah.
‐Have a crate.

‐Don't mind if we do. Major?
‐Thank you.

(Charles groans)

Whew! Little gamy
around here.

Haven't smelled
anything this bad
since Rosie had lumbago.

Major, I'll bet
you're here to see how

your latest casualties
are doing, huh?

We just came
from post‐op.

Covington doesn't
look good at all.

The chest wound? Yeah,
he took a lot of shrapnel.

I think he'll pull through,
and he'll be‐‐

he'll be on his way home.

Thank God for that.

Boy, it just seems

no matter how many times
you go through this,

it never gets any easier,
huh?

What about Morehead and Sims?

We won't know till morning.

See what you can do
about getting Sims home.

He's only two points
short anyway,

and I'd sure as hell
hate to have to see him

put his butt back up
in the line.

With all due respect,
Major,

I know you're a
fair‐minded man.
I am too,

but I also feel
charity begins at home,
with your own kind.

You know what I mean?

I'm not sure that I do.

Well, first you tried
to get Pierce here
to pull strings

to get that Dorsey boy
sent home,

and now you're
trying to get us

to send two more
of them stateside.

‐"Them"?
‐It just seems to be

a little dark in post‐op,
if you get my drift.

Aw, Colonel, it's supposed
to be happy hour.

Why don't we
just have a drink?

‐Major?
‐It's a good idea. Thanks.

Well, what's
the problem, Pierce?

Everybody's entitled
to his own opinion.

Just because Truman
desegregated the troops,

doesn't mean that I
have to agree with him.

Come on, Colonel.
We've been all through this.

Face it.
What's done is done.

This man's army
just hasn't been the same

since our beloved president
signed that act in '48.

Yeah, I can't believe a man
from my very own home state
of Missouri

would pull something
like that.

Wouldn't you think

Harry S. would leave
well enough alone?

‐Amen.
‐Oh?

Everything was fine
till Uncle Sam
burnt the toast.

Well, if we're all
simpatico here,

how come you're sending
those boys home

via your own
Underground Railroad?

It's very simple.

I don't want them
in my unit.

Well, ain't you
the shrewd cookie?

I'm not the kind of man
who sits by

while others
mess around with

the natural order
of things.

The government might be
able to force 'em on me,

they can't tell me
what to do with them.

Nobody tells me who
I have to eat, sleep,
and fight with.

So you send 'em off
on high‐risk duty, huh?

That way, they earn
more points.

They get rotated home faster.

‐Or get wounded.
‐Yeah, well...

We didn't ask for them
to be here

in the first place,
right?

Well, what do you know?
We're all out of booze.

What do you say
we step inside
for a nightcap?

Let's have a toast

to some good old‐fashioned
American values.

‐WEEMS: I'll drink to that.
‐Shall I pour?

‐(groans)
‐Sorry, Charles, you've
had too much already.

Major,
care for another drink?

I don't believe we've met.

Well, mercy me.
Where are my manners?

Major Weems,
allow me to introduce

Major Quentin Rockingham.

Major Rockingham is

the Deputy Assistant Chief
of Staff for Personnel

Headquarters I‐Corps.

Sir.

Indeed a pleasure
to meet you.

Major, do you have any idea
how appropriate it is

that we should meet
in a hospital?

I don't understand.

‐You make me sick.
‐Amen.

Major, you're fighting
the wrong war.

The Civil War ended
almost 100 years ago.

In today's army,
there's no place for a bigot.

Bigot?
You've got it all wrong.

Do I? What would you
call an officer

who assigns his men
to dangerous duty

on the basis of their race?

Weems, you look
white as a sheet.

Seems only fitting.

Now wait a minute, Major.

I don't think you
quite understand.

‐Just let me explain.
‐No, no, no, no, no.

I think you
stated your case with
a great deal of eloquence,

and I'm sure
a court martial board

will find it
equally impressive.

Court martial? What?

Since when is it
a court martial offense

to have a harmless chat
over a couple of drinks?

We did some research
on you and your unit

and came up with some
figures that indicate

that you're not
exactly harmless.

It seems that a Negro
in your command

has a life expectancy
of a dead man.

It'll all come down
to my word against yours.

‐All four of us.
‐Make that five.

Okay. Okay.

Maybe I have been, uh‐‐

a little one‐sided
in my judgment, maybe,

but believe me,
there's no need for
a court martial here.

You've got a point.
A court martial would
take a lot of time.

‐That's right.
‐And the sooner you're
out of here, the better,

so I'm gonna give you
another choice.

Sign this.

Resign my commission?

That's no choice. Either way,
I'm out of the army.

Amen to that.

That's insane.
I won't do it.

Then I'll have to put in a call
to the Judge Advocate General.

At least give me the night
to think about it.

Major, either you sign,

or I'm gonna put in a call
to the J. A. G. right now.

Either way, of course,
the choice is entirely
up to you.

When my C. O. sees this,
he's gonna wanna know why.

You can say it's for
personal reasons.

Or we can say that it's
for personnel reasons.

Are there any more
questions, Major?

There used to be a time

when you could tell
who your enemies were.

B.J.: So much for
the good old days.

Well, now that that's over,
how about a drink?

One for the road?

(laughing)
Did you see that?

His eyeballs were
breaking out in a sweat.

Colonel,
you were terrific.

Well, I've seen
so many of those birds,

I've got the act
down pat.

But the Oscar
goes to Quentin here

for best impersonation
of a major by a captain.

(laughing)

Well, Colonel,
you can believe me,
it was my pleasure.

‐Major‐‐
‐Sir?

I want to thank you for
the use of your leaves.

Any time. I thought
your performance
was outstanding.

It was a pleasure
watching you make
that man suffer.

Oh, Charles,
the show's not over yet.
This one's a double feature.

‐What do you mean?
‐I guess this calls for
another howdy‐doody.

Dr. Winchester, M. D.,
meet Dr. Rockingham, D. D. S.

Dentist!

If you liked him as
the firm but fair major

in "Gone With the Weems,"

you'll love him as
the warm but tender dentist

in "A Yank in Korea."

Oh, no. God, no.

‐You don't have to drop
your jaw yet, Charles.
‐No, no.

‐Let's go, Charles.
It's this way.
‐Iniquitous‐‐

Winchester,
you've got two choices.

Either him or the doorknob.

‐Follow us, Captain.
‐Come on.

‐Colonel.
‐Thank you, Quentin.

We had no idea
it would be so painful.

We figured
it was just gonna be your

everyday, run‐of‐the‐mill
dental work.

You poor man,
to suffer so.

I'm sure it'll be
a fast recuperation.

And I doubt there's
any nerve damage.

It's happened before,
but only with baby teeth.

Well, you see what
happens when you don't
give him a balloon?

I am terribly embarrassed,
Doctor.

It was purely
a reflex action.

I have very primitive
biting instincts.

♪♪♪ (theme)