M*A*S*H (1972–1983): Season 2, Episode 9 - Dear Dad... Three - full transcript
The crew at 4077 is so bored, Frank and Trapper play cards together, as Hawkeye writes his dad. A patient, Conway, who is also an ignorant bigot, wants "the right color" of blood used in his transfusion. A soldier comes into OR with a live grenade that was shot into his body; both patient and doctor survive. Margaret may be a royal pain, but she is always there to assist in the tough cases. At Happy Hour, Henry tells Father Mulcahy how he came to be drafted. The drunken duo decide to add some "color" to Conway's recovery. In Henry's office, Radar screens Blake home movies for Henry, Trapper and Hawkeye. Father Mulcahy boxes a few rounds as Hotlips and Frank practice some strange mating rituals. The 4077 monthly officers' meetings are an ongoing disaster, until they officially end the war. Conway gets a lesson about Dr. Charles Drew and he leaves the 4077 with a lot to think about.
[All Shouting, Cheering]
Ooh, what a card!
Right in the old labonza.
- Labonza.
- Go ahead, cuddles. Take a card.
Don't rush me.
That's against the rules.
- Frank, you slapped my wrist!
- [Pierce's Voice] Dear Dad,
The war goes on and on and on.
Our biggest enemy is boredom.
We don't know what to do with ourselves.
I've been writing obscene prescriptions
and throwing them into the nurses'tent.
You know it's boring when Trapper
and Frank Burns do anything together.
Gin.
- You cheated!
- Of course I did. How else could I win?
Just don't talk to me
for the rest of the war!
How about the next war?
That'll be okeydoke with me, fella!
Fine. We don't talk for this war
and World War III. Moron.
[Pierce's Voice] Even though we don't
get along personally, we do manage...
to have a professional animosity.
The O.R. Continues to be a very funny
place, if you can laugh as you throw up.
It's like smorgasbord in the
slaughterhouse. Everything looks so bad.
Let's do the sigmoid colon
before we go into the bladder, okay?
Okay.
[British Accent] "In India's sunny
clime, where I used to spend my time,
"a-servin' of Her Majesty, the Queen,
of all that black-faced crew,
"the finest man I knew
was our regimental bhisti, Gunga Din.
"Though I've belted you and flayed you,
by the living God that made you,
you're a better man
than I am, Gunga Din."
- Metzenbaum scissors.
- Are we having poetry in surgery now?
"There was a young lady
from Kent who took off her..."
Steady, Henry.
- How you doin'?
- Okay, Doc.
Okay. That about does it,
but we need another unit of plasma.
- [Patient] For me?
- Yeah, we got a special this week.
Take a pint of blood, then we give you 6
free highball glasses that break easily.
- [Chuckles]
- Give me a bottle of your best stuff.
- Yes, Doctor.
- Make sure I get the right color, eh?
- Huh?
- I wouldn't want that darkie stuff.
Oh, yeah. Sure.
- Colonel?
- Yeah. Just a minute. Collins?
- Yeah?
- Sir, you'd better look at this.
- Where is this guy?
- He's in the scrub room.
Radar, you can't let anybody in here
with a grenade in his pants.
- He's not wearing pants, sir.
- Holy cow.
Collins, take over. Jones, assist him.
Houlihan, we'll need your help.
I want a spinal tray, a major pack
and some bone instruments.
You'll need some more light.
I'll get a spot.
Out of here, Radar.
Pierce, look at this.
Kid's in the pre-op.
Let's go.
[Pierce's Voice] Occasionally we get
a kid with an unexploded grenade...
that's been shot into his body,
something they neglected
to tell us about in med school.
The procedure is simple:
You operate on a human time bomb
while your life flashes in front of you,
and you'll promise God anything if He'll
keep you patient from blowing up.
There must be an easier way
for a surgeon to make $413.50 a month.
All right, Pierce.
There's the fluke.
Get another glove, honey.
All right.
Get me some towels.
- Towels, towels.
- Boy, what a mess.
[Low Chattering]
We're all fine. Now, you get
out of here, all you nurses.
- Let's go.
- Forget the sandbags. Just get out.
- I think that's long enough.
- We'll soon see.
Scalpel.
[Pierce]
All right. Take it easy.
Give me some scissors.
- [Blake] I think that's long enough.
- Well, don't shake him.
[Exhaling Slowly]
- Sponge.
- Sponge.
Boy, this is one hot potato.
- This kid can't be 18.
- Let's see if we can get him to 19.
Sponge.
There it is.
Who's gonna lift it out?
How 'bout the late me?
Give me some retraction.
- Got it?
- Yeah.
Steady. Easy.
Easy.
[Sighs]
Okay. Get it out of here.
[Pierce's Voice] I'm glad to report
the patient and the doctor survived.
There followed another operation which
we natives here call the "happy hour."
There followed another operation which
we natives here call the "happy hour."
It's a chance to meet your neighbor,
to do better than meet your neighbor.
- This is nice.
- Mm.
I bet we could
dance great together too.
- It really doesn't hurt?
- I've done a hundred hernias.
- I should have it done, huh?
- Absolutely.
Take off your dress and say "ah."
- Radar?
- Huh?
- Can I ask you a question?
- Sure.
Everybody says you're a virgin.
Is that true?
I really don't know.
This guy's a one-star general,
30 years a doctor.
Patient's in pain.
Guess what his orders were.
"Give him a coffee enema."
Oh, my word.
Then I had to open my big mouth
and say, "With cream and sugar?"
You're kidding. He was afraid
he'd get the wrong color blood?
Damn fool.
[Slurring Words]
I was on a plane for Korea in 12 hours.
I mean, I should've done it.
The coffee was already brewed.
I mean, what would
it have cost me, huh?
Well, the enema's loss
was our gain, Colonel.
Why don't we pay Condon...
that's his name...
a little nocturnal visit?
Nothing violent,
just a bit of reverse prejudice.
Capital idea.
- A hernia? No, it doesn't hurt at all.
- Honest?
- Snip, snip; it's over.
- Ooh.
I understand you're in need
of a medical man here.
- I see you couldn't find one.
- Where's Condon?
Number nine, with the bedpan
marked "for whites only."
- Got the magic mixture?
- Yes, Master.
[Imitating Bela Lugosi]
Right this way, Igor. I will show you.
Oh, terrific.
- Still sedated?
- Just enough.
- Cotton.
- Cotton.
Somebody's gotta pick the cotton.
- What'd you use?
- Tincture of iodine.
Should last a couple of days.
- Perfecto.
- Mind if I dab along?
You do his hands.
[Pierce's Voice]
Coming to you from the mess tent now.
Not a bad place to eat if you
like cold dishes like steak, lamb chops,
stew, soup, coffee.
Makes you long for home,
but then, almost everything does.
Which brings me
to Colonel Henry Blake.
He's a lovely man, our Henry,
but if this weren't a war,
he'd surely be arrested
for impersonating an officer.
- How are we coming, Radar?
- Almost, sir.
- You know how to work that gizmo?
- Oh, yes, sir.
You feed the leader through
and hook it on the old take-up reel.
Glad you know how.
I was never very good with my hands.
Guess that's why you
became a surgeon, huh, sir?
- Very funny, Radar.
- Thank you, sir.
- Given up your plans to become sergeant?
- No, sir.
- Hi, Henry.
- [Blake] Hi.
- There you go.
- What's this? What's happening?
- Dirty movies in the middle of the day?
- Sit down. None of your sass.
Whatever you say, Henry.
It's your theater. What are you showing?
Oh, the wife sent some film...
one of my kid's birthday parties.
- Hey, that's great.
- Help yourself to a drink.
- Thank you.
- Yeah, we will.
- Anytime, Radar.
- Oh, yes, sir.
Keep your hands
to yourself, Trapper.
[Switch Clicks,
Projector Whirs]
[Blake]
That's Molly at the head of the table.
- [Pierce] She's adorable, Henry.
- [Mclntyre] Real beauty.
- [Radar] Yeah, she's pretty, sir.
- Just like her mother.
- Bright as a penny.
- Didn't she get anything from you?
I'm her boyfriend.
- [Wolf Whistles]
- [Mclntyre] Hey.
- [Applause]
- [Blake] Steady. That's the missus.
- [Pierce] She's all right, Henry.
- [Blake] All right?
She was Succotash Queen
at Illinois Normal.
- How did you bag her, Henry?
- Slip her something in her succotash?
I met her at a freshman mixer.
She was with Buzz Wilensky,
captain of the football team.
Big, handsome son of a gun, Buzz.
She took one look in my direction...
[Pierce]
And?
[Blake]
And I begged her to go out with me.
Proposed to her on the first date,
right there on the ice.
[Mclntyre]
You really beat old Buzz's time, huh?
He went on to become the biggest
cement contractor in the Midwest.
[Pierce] Saved her from a life
of prosperity, right, Henry?
Henry, if you don't give
the command to cry, I will.
Wow.
- Turn it off, Radar.
- [Radar] Yes, sir.
[Mclntyre]
Hey, wait a minute. Hold it, Henry.
- [Pierce] Now the dirty movie.
- [Blake] For Pete's sake.
Why did Lorraine tack that on?
Ah, terrific, Henry.
[Mclntyre] He actually
hit the ground the first time.
[Blake]
Got my shoes wet too.
- Look at this!
- [Blake] Aw, that's embarrassing.
- [Mclntyre] Great legs.
- [Pierce] You've been here too long.
[Blake] Uh, that's Molly.
She must've been about three.
That's MiltJaffe,
the gynecologist next door.
Oh, that's handy. Everybody should
have a gynecologist next door.
[Mclntyre] I'm afraid to ask
what's on the other side.
- [Pierce] Ohh.
- [Mclntyre] Yeah. Hey, hey.
Boy, that Sylvia Jaffe
is loaded for bear.
[Laughs, Imitates
Silent Movie Music]
Oh, wow.
- I could see that all over again.
- Mm.
Why not?
- Radar?
- Uh, yes, sir.
- That was very touching, Henry.
- Yeah, it was, wasn't it?
Tell me one thing.
Did you and Milt ever get married?
- Radar, how are you doing?
- Uh, in a minute, sir.
[Pierce's Voice] We've just heard Gen.
Eisenhower is running for president.
What some guys won't do
to get out of the army.
Some people make it work for them.
They keep in good physical shape.
Others occupy themselves with painting,
finding enjoyment in
adding color to all our lives.
Then there are those devotees
of exotic cultures who nightly...
practice their khaki fertility rites.
Knock, knock!
Anybody home?
Hello, Frank.
Here we are again.
Frank, don't nibble on me
while I'm reading.
- I want to turn a page.
- Good. I'll wet your finger.
Here.
Turn a whole lot of pages.
Ohh, Frank, be honest. Do you really
think of me as a bag of desirable bones?
- Of course, Margaret.
- I have a mind and a brain.
Of course you do.
Let me kiss your brain.
Frank, leave,
and don't slam the door.
If I want aggravation, all I have
to do is open one of my wife's letters.
I am sick to death of being reminded
that you're a married man!
How do you think I feel? It's not
my fault I'm married. She trapped me.
- Ha! I'll bet.
- She did. She did so.
She said she liked me.
- And that trapped you?
- You should've seen my skin in college.
I only became a doctor
to clear up my face.
Take your face and...
your married face...
and get out!
Avec plaisir,
Miss Snake-in-the-Grass.
You should talk,
you two-timing four-flusher!
- Oh, Frank.
- Oh, Margaret.
Oh!
- Uh, excuse me, uh, Doc...
- Not now, soldier. I'm due in O.R.
There are a lot of ward people here.
- Uh, hey, miss...
- Yes?
- What's your problem?
- Let me ask you something.
- Did you see me when I first came here?
- Yeah.
Well, am I...
darker now than I was then?
I see what you mean. Are you sure
they gave you the right blood?
Huh?
It's happened before.
They got you down as "white."
Good work, baby.
- What the hell are you talkin' about?
- Relax. I won't give you away.
- Get outta here!
- I'm a lieutenant, soldier.
I don't care if you are passing.
Watch your mouth.
[Footsteps Departing]
[Pierce] At the London Zoo every day
at 4:00, they have what's known...
as the "Chimps' Tea Party."
The MASH equivalent
is our monthly staff meeting.
The Pentagon says it's necessary,
but the meetings we have could
prolong the war by at least two years.
Radar, will you call the roll, please?
- Henry, we all know who's here.
- Regulations require it.
Well, I can see that. It could be
that some of us aren't all here.
Take the roll. If somebody's not here,
he's probably someplace else.
The record should show it. Unless
the person making the record isn't here.
Thank you, Pierce.
- Radar?
- Here, sir.
- Take the roll.
- Oh, yes, sir.
- Uh, Lieutenant Colonel Henry Blake.
- Yo.
- Major Margaret Houlihan.
- Here.
- Major Frank Marion Burns.
- [Mclntyre Snickers]
- "Marion."
- His folks wanted a boy.
- I'm not in the mood for fooling around.
- You hear that, Margaret?
[Clears Throat]
Captain John F.X. Mclntyre.
Wait. We didn't hear Frank's answer.
We don't know if he's here.
- Of course I'm here.
- Regulations, Frank.
- Radar.
- Here, sir.
- No. Ask Frank over there if he's here.
- Oh, yes, sir.
- Major Frank Burns?
- Here.
- Captain John F.X. Mclntyre.
- [Mclntyre] Yo.
- Uh, Captain Benjamin Franklin Pierce.
- Yo-yo.
First Lieutenant
John Patrick Mulcahy.
- Here. Bless this meeting.
- And all those who sail in her.
- Radar, will you read the minutes?
- Uh, sir?
It happens it isn't your turn to chair
the meeting. We go on a rotation basis.
By golly, that's right.
Okay, Radar. Who chaired
the last staff meeting?
- Uh, I did, sir.
- Hmm?
None of you showed up. But the one
before that, Major Burns did.
And that makes it
Major Houlihan's turn.
Right. Major Houlihan,
it's your turn to chair the table.
- I'll take your seat, you take mine.
- Fine.
Let it go.
Sorry, Burns.
- Um...
- Yeah, here's your gavel.
Well, now, as chair of the month, I
hereby call this staff meeting to order.
- You wanna re-bless the meeting, Father?
- [Ladle Pounding]
We will now hear the minutes
of the last meeting, Corporal.
Uh, I didn't take any.
I was the only one here.
Excuse me. We do have the minutes for
the meeting before the last meeting.
- Read them, Corporal.
- Yes, ma'am. [Clears Throat]
"Minutes of the last monthly staff
meeting, which was held six months ago.
"The motion was made that the officers
of this unit hold a yearly reunion...
"once a year after the war is over.
"The motion was defeated when it failed
to receive even one vote.
"The meeting was declared a shambles
right after Captain Mclntyre...
unscrewed Major Burns's clusters."
Ah, those were the days.
The purpose of these meetings is
to exchange information and ideas...
for the efficient
military performance of this unit.
The continued abuse of this forum
by certain of the staff...
only reinforces
my low opinion of them.
Frank? You know, in this light,
you look just likeJoan Crawford.
- [Houlihan] Colonel Blake!
- Here, sir!
- Capt. Pierce is out of order.
- I thought you're guaranteed for a year.
- [Ladle Pounding]
- Order!
Look, you wanna meet and talk about
vein grafts and arterial surgery...
or trauma or cardiac arrest,
I'll be as serious as you want.
But if we're here for the purpose
of improving our military efficiency,
I couldn't care less whether the border
rocks are painted red, white or blue...
or whether we form a committee
to study camouflaging our latrines.
Or to take Frank's suggestion
of having lifeboat drills...
in case we're attacked by the Korean
navy, which they don't even have.
- Really?
- Everything we say concerns the war!
Fine. I make a motion
that the war be ended.
I second the motion.
- You can't end the war just like that!
- Of course you can!
- There's a motion. Let's vote on it.
- You've all heard the motion.
- Those in favor, raise your right hands.
- Aye!
- Those opposed?
- Nay!
The ayes have it.
Let it be recorded that the war
was ended on this date at 9:32 p.m.
Last man to the unemployment office
is a rotten egg.
- Hiya, boy. Ready for a little lunch?
- I gotta talk to you, Doc.
Why don't you have some food first?
Best medicine in the world.
- What is it?
- Just what you ordered.
Fried chicken and watermelon.
I never ordered that!
What are you guys tryin' to do to me?
- Did you give me the wrong color blood?
- All blood is the same.
- You ever hear of Dr. Charles Drew?
- Who's that?
Dr. Drew invented the process
of separating blood so it can be stored.
- Plasma.
- He died last April in a car accident.
He bled to death.
The hospital wouldn't let him in.
It was for whites only.
See ya, fella.
- ## [Radio: Big Band]
- [Pierce] How far away it all seems:
Fun, affection, tenderness.
More later, Dad.
It's time to go on the night shift.
[Pierce's Voice] Well, Dad,
another day, another happy hour.
Not too much.
I'm praying later.
Look, I'm your commanding officer.
I can promote you in the field,
or we can go back to my place.
Doc?
I gotta join my outfit. I just
wanna thank you for patchin' me up.
No charge.
And also for giving me
a lot to think about.
Lieutenant.
Good luck.
[Pierce's Voice]
One of the happier happy hours, Dad.
Excuse me.
Come on over.
I want you to meet my friend.
Hawk, this is Nurse Anna Lindstrom.
- Oh, hey.
- She's with the Swedish unit.
- I thought you two might hit it off.
- I'll be with you in a minute.
- All right.
- Have a seat. I'll get you a drink.
♪ So don't forget, folks ♪
♪That's what you get, folks ♪
♪ For makin' whoopee ♪♪
What is that? "Whoopee"?
I'll be with you
in a minute, darling.
Ooh, what a card!
Right in the old labonza.
- Labonza.
- Go ahead, cuddles. Take a card.
Don't rush me.
That's against the rules.
- Frank, you slapped my wrist!
- [Pierce's Voice] Dear Dad,
The war goes on and on and on.
Our biggest enemy is boredom.
We don't know what to do with ourselves.
I've been writing obscene prescriptions
and throwing them into the nurses'tent.
You know it's boring when Trapper
and Frank Burns do anything together.
Gin.
- You cheated!
- Of course I did. How else could I win?
Just don't talk to me
for the rest of the war!
How about the next war?
That'll be okeydoke with me, fella!
Fine. We don't talk for this war
and World War III. Moron.
[Pierce's Voice] Even though we don't
get along personally, we do manage...
to have a professional animosity.
The O.R. Continues to be a very funny
place, if you can laugh as you throw up.
It's like smorgasbord in the
slaughterhouse. Everything looks so bad.
Let's do the sigmoid colon
before we go into the bladder, okay?
Okay.
[British Accent] "In India's sunny
clime, where I used to spend my time,
"a-servin' of Her Majesty, the Queen,
of all that black-faced crew,
"the finest man I knew
was our regimental bhisti, Gunga Din.
"Though I've belted you and flayed you,
by the living God that made you,
you're a better man
than I am, Gunga Din."
- Metzenbaum scissors.
- Are we having poetry in surgery now?
"There was a young lady
from Kent who took off her..."
Steady, Henry.
- How you doin'?
- Okay, Doc.
Okay. That about does it,
but we need another unit of plasma.
- [Patient] For me?
- Yeah, we got a special this week.
Take a pint of blood, then we give you 6
free highball glasses that break easily.
- [Chuckles]
- Give me a bottle of your best stuff.
- Yes, Doctor.
- Make sure I get the right color, eh?
- Huh?
- I wouldn't want that darkie stuff.
Oh, yeah. Sure.
- Colonel?
- Yeah. Just a minute. Collins?
- Yeah?
- Sir, you'd better look at this.
- Where is this guy?
- He's in the scrub room.
Radar, you can't let anybody in here
with a grenade in his pants.
- He's not wearing pants, sir.
- Holy cow.
Collins, take over. Jones, assist him.
Houlihan, we'll need your help.
I want a spinal tray, a major pack
and some bone instruments.
You'll need some more light.
I'll get a spot.
Out of here, Radar.
Pierce, look at this.
Kid's in the pre-op.
Let's go.
[Pierce's Voice] Occasionally we get
a kid with an unexploded grenade...
that's been shot into his body,
something they neglected
to tell us about in med school.
The procedure is simple:
You operate on a human time bomb
while your life flashes in front of you,
and you'll promise God anything if He'll
keep you patient from blowing up.
There must be an easier way
for a surgeon to make $413.50 a month.
All right, Pierce.
There's the fluke.
Get another glove, honey.
All right.
Get me some towels.
- Towels, towels.
- Boy, what a mess.
[Low Chattering]
We're all fine. Now, you get
out of here, all you nurses.
- Let's go.
- Forget the sandbags. Just get out.
- I think that's long enough.
- We'll soon see.
Scalpel.
[Pierce]
All right. Take it easy.
Give me some scissors.
- [Blake] I think that's long enough.
- Well, don't shake him.
[Exhaling Slowly]
- Sponge.
- Sponge.
Boy, this is one hot potato.
- This kid can't be 18.
- Let's see if we can get him to 19.
Sponge.
There it is.
Who's gonna lift it out?
How 'bout the late me?
Give me some retraction.
- Got it?
- Yeah.
Steady. Easy.
Easy.
[Sighs]
Okay. Get it out of here.
[Pierce's Voice] I'm glad to report
the patient and the doctor survived.
There followed another operation which
we natives here call the "happy hour."
There followed another operation which
we natives here call the "happy hour."
It's a chance to meet your neighbor,
to do better than meet your neighbor.
- This is nice.
- Mm.
I bet we could
dance great together too.
- It really doesn't hurt?
- I've done a hundred hernias.
- I should have it done, huh?
- Absolutely.
Take off your dress and say "ah."
- Radar?
- Huh?
- Can I ask you a question?
- Sure.
Everybody says you're a virgin.
Is that true?
I really don't know.
This guy's a one-star general,
30 years a doctor.
Patient's in pain.
Guess what his orders were.
"Give him a coffee enema."
Oh, my word.
Then I had to open my big mouth
and say, "With cream and sugar?"
You're kidding. He was afraid
he'd get the wrong color blood?
Damn fool.
[Slurring Words]
I was on a plane for Korea in 12 hours.
I mean, I should've done it.
The coffee was already brewed.
I mean, what would
it have cost me, huh?
Well, the enema's loss
was our gain, Colonel.
Why don't we pay Condon...
that's his name...
a little nocturnal visit?
Nothing violent,
just a bit of reverse prejudice.
Capital idea.
- A hernia? No, it doesn't hurt at all.
- Honest?
- Snip, snip; it's over.
- Ooh.
I understand you're in need
of a medical man here.
- I see you couldn't find one.
- Where's Condon?
Number nine, with the bedpan
marked "for whites only."
- Got the magic mixture?
- Yes, Master.
[Imitating Bela Lugosi]
Right this way, Igor. I will show you.
Oh, terrific.
- Still sedated?
- Just enough.
- Cotton.
- Cotton.
Somebody's gotta pick the cotton.
- What'd you use?
- Tincture of iodine.
Should last a couple of days.
- Perfecto.
- Mind if I dab along?
You do his hands.
[Pierce's Voice]
Coming to you from the mess tent now.
Not a bad place to eat if you
like cold dishes like steak, lamb chops,
stew, soup, coffee.
Makes you long for home,
but then, almost everything does.
Which brings me
to Colonel Henry Blake.
He's a lovely man, our Henry,
but if this weren't a war,
he'd surely be arrested
for impersonating an officer.
- How are we coming, Radar?
- Almost, sir.
- You know how to work that gizmo?
- Oh, yes, sir.
You feed the leader through
and hook it on the old take-up reel.
Glad you know how.
I was never very good with my hands.
Guess that's why you
became a surgeon, huh, sir?
- Very funny, Radar.
- Thank you, sir.
- Given up your plans to become sergeant?
- No, sir.
- Hi, Henry.
- [Blake] Hi.
- There you go.
- What's this? What's happening?
- Dirty movies in the middle of the day?
- Sit down. None of your sass.
Whatever you say, Henry.
It's your theater. What are you showing?
Oh, the wife sent some film...
one of my kid's birthday parties.
- Hey, that's great.
- Help yourself to a drink.
- Thank you.
- Yeah, we will.
- Anytime, Radar.
- Oh, yes, sir.
Keep your hands
to yourself, Trapper.
[Switch Clicks,
Projector Whirs]
[Blake]
That's Molly at the head of the table.
- [Pierce] She's adorable, Henry.
- [Mclntyre] Real beauty.
- [Radar] Yeah, she's pretty, sir.
- Just like her mother.
- Bright as a penny.
- Didn't she get anything from you?
I'm her boyfriend.
- [Wolf Whistles]
- [Mclntyre] Hey.
- [Applause]
- [Blake] Steady. That's the missus.
- [Pierce] She's all right, Henry.
- [Blake] All right?
She was Succotash Queen
at Illinois Normal.
- How did you bag her, Henry?
- Slip her something in her succotash?
I met her at a freshman mixer.
She was with Buzz Wilensky,
captain of the football team.
Big, handsome son of a gun, Buzz.
She took one look in my direction...
[Pierce]
And?
[Blake]
And I begged her to go out with me.
Proposed to her on the first date,
right there on the ice.
[Mclntyre]
You really beat old Buzz's time, huh?
He went on to become the biggest
cement contractor in the Midwest.
[Pierce] Saved her from a life
of prosperity, right, Henry?
Henry, if you don't give
the command to cry, I will.
Wow.
- Turn it off, Radar.
- [Radar] Yes, sir.
[Mclntyre]
Hey, wait a minute. Hold it, Henry.
- [Pierce] Now the dirty movie.
- [Blake] For Pete's sake.
Why did Lorraine tack that on?
Ah, terrific, Henry.
[Mclntyre] He actually
hit the ground the first time.
[Blake]
Got my shoes wet too.
- Look at this!
- [Blake] Aw, that's embarrassing.
- [Mclntyre] Great legs.
- [Pierce] You've been here too long.
[Blake] Uh, that's Molly.
She must've been about three.
That's MiltJaffe,
the gynecologist next door.
Oh, that's handy. Everybody should
have a gynecologist next door.
[Mclntyre] I'm afraid to ask
what's on the other side.
- [Pierce] Ohh.
- [Mclntyre] Yeah. Hey, hey.
Boy, that Sylvia Jaffe
is loaded for bear.
[Laughs, Imitates
Silent Movie Music]
Oh, wow.
- I could see that all over again.
- Mm.
Why not?
- Radar?
- Uh, yes, sir.
- That was very touching, Henry.
- Yeah, it was, wasn't it?
Tell me one thing.
Did you and Milt ever get married?
- Radar, how are you doing?
- Uh, in a minute, sir.
[Pierce's Voice] We've just heard Gen.
Eisenhower is running for president.
What some guys won't do
to get out of the army.
Some people make it work for them.
They keep in good physical shape.
Others occupy themselves with painting,
finding enjoyment in
adding color to all our lives.
Then there are those devotees
of exotic cultures who nightly...
practice their khaki fertility rites.
Knock, knock!
Anybody home?
Hello, Frank.
Here we are again.
Frank, don't nibble on me
while I'm reading.
- I want to turn a page.
- Good. I'll wet your finger.
Here.
Turn a whole lot of pages.
Ohh, Frank, be honest. Do you really
think of me as a bag of desirable bones?
- Of course, Margaret.
- I have a mind and a brain.
Of course you do.
Let me kiss your brain.
Frank, leave,
and don't slam the door.
If I want aggravation, all I have
to do is open one of my wife's letters.
I am sick to death of being reminded
that you're a married man!
How do you think I feel? It's not
my fault I'm married. She trapped me.
- Ha! I'll bet.
- She did. She did so.
She said she liked me.
- And that trapped you?
- You should've seen my skin in college.
I only became a doctor
to clear up my face.
Take your face and...
your married face...
and get out!
Avec plaisir,
Miss Snake-in-the-Grass.
You should talk,
you two-timing four-flusher!
- Oh, Frank.
- Oh, Margaret.
Oh!
- Uh, excuse me, uh, Doc...
- Not now, soldier. I'm due in O.R.
There are a lot of ward people here.
- Uh, hey, miss...
- Yes?
- What's your problem?
- Let me ask you something.
- Did you see me when I first came here?
- Yeah.
Well, am I...
darker now than I was then?
I see what you mean. Are you sure
they gave you the right blood?
Huh?
It's happened before.
They got you down as "white."
Good work, baby.
- What the hell are you talkin' about?
- Relax. I won't give you away.
- Get outta here!
- I'm a lieutenant, soldier.
I don't care if you are passing.
Watch your mouth.
[Footsteps Departing]
[Pierce] At the London Zoo every day
at 4:00, they have what's known...
as the "Chimps' Tea Party."
The MASH equivalent
is our monthly staff meeting.
The Pentagon says it's necessary,
but the meetings we have could
prolong the war by at least two years.
Radar, will you call the roll, please?
- Henry, we all know who's here.
- Regulations require it.
Well, I can see that. It could be
that some of us aren't all here.
Take the roll. If somebody's not here,
he's probably someplace else.
The record should show it. Unless
the person making the record isn't here.
Thank you, Pierce.
- Radar?
- Here, sir.
- Take the roll.
- Oh, yes, sir.
- Uh, Lieutenant Colonel Henry Blake.
- Yo.
- Major Margaret Houlihan.
- Here.
- Major Frank Marion Burns.
- [Mclntyre Snickers]
- "Marion."
- His folks wanted a boy.
- I'm not in the mood for fooling around.
- You hear that, Margaret?
[Clears Throat]
Captain John F.X. Mclntyre.
Wait. We didn't hear Frank's answer.
We don't know if he's here.
- Of course I'm here.
- Regulations, Frank.
- Radar.
- Here, sir.
- No. Ask Frank over there if he's here.
- Oh, yes, sir.
- Major Frank Burns?
- Here.
- Captain John F.X. Mclntyre.
- [Mclntyre] Yo.
- Uh, Captain Benjamin Franklin Pierce.
- Yo-yo.
First Lieutenant
John Patrick Mulcahy.
- Here. Bless this meeting.
- And all those who sail in her.
- Radar, will you read the minutes?
- Uh, sir?
It happens it isn't your turn to chair
the meeting. We go on a rotation basis.
By golly, that's right.
Okay, Radar. Who chaired
the last staff meeting?
- Uh, I did, sir.
- Hmm?
None of you showed up. But the one
before that, Major Burns did.
And that makes it
Major Houlihan's turn.
Right. Major Houlihan,
it's your turn to chair the table.
- I'll take your seat, you take mine.
- Fine.
Let it go.
Sorry, Burns.
- Um...
- Yeah, here's your gavel.
Well, now, as chair of the month, I
hereby call this staff meeting to order.
- You wanna re-bless the meeting, Father?
- [Ladle Pounding]
We will now hear the minutes
of the last meeting, Corporal.
Uh, I didn't take any.
I was the only one here.
Excuse me. We do have the minutes for
the meeting before the last meeting.
- Read them, Corporal.
- Yes, ma'am. [Clears Throat]
"Minutes of the last monthly staff
meeting, which was held six months ago.
"The motion was made that the officers
of this unit hold a yearly reunion...
"once a year after the war is over.
"The motion was defeated when it failed
to receive even one vote.
"The meeting was declared a shambles
right after Captain Mclntyre...
unscrewed Major Burns's clusters."
Ah, those were the days.
The purpose of these meetings is
to exchange information and ideas...
for the efficient
military performance of this unit.
The continued abuse of this forum
by certain of the staff...
only reinforces
my low opinion of them.
Frank? You know, in this light,
you look just likeJoan Crawford.
- [Houlihan] Colonel Blake!
- Here, sir!
- Capt. Pierce is out of order.
- I thought you're guaranteed for a year.
- [Ladle Pounding]
- Order!
Look, you wanna meet and talk about
vein grafts and arterial surgery...
or trauma or cardiac arrest,
I'll be as serious as you want.
But if we're here for the purpose
of improving our military efficiency,
I couldn't care less whether the border
rocks are painted red, white or blue...
or whether we form a committee
to study camouflaging our latrines.
Or to take Frank's suggestion
of having lifeboat drills...
in case we're attacked by the Korean
navy, which they don't even have.
- Really?
- Everything we say concerns the war!
Fine. I make a motion
that the war be ended.
I second the motion.
- You can't end the war just like that!
- Of course you can!
- There's a motion. Let's vote on it.
- You've all heard the motion.
- Those in favor, raise your right hands.
- Aye!
- Those opposed?
- Nay!
The ayes have it.
Let it be recorded that the war
was ended on this date at 9:32 p.m.
Last man to the unemployment office
is a rotten egg.
- Hiya, boy. Ready for a little lunch?
- I gotta talk to you, Doc.
Why don't you have some food first?
Best medicine in the world.
- What is it?
- Just what you ordered.
Fried chicken and watermelon.
I never ordered that!
What are you guys tryin' to do to me?
- Did you give me the wrong color blood?
- All blood is the same.
- You ever hear of Dr. Charles Drew?
- Who's that?
Dr. Drew invented the process
of separating blood so it can be stored.
- Plasma.
- He died last April in a car accident.
He bled to death.
The hospital wouldn't let him in.
It was for whites only.
See ya, fella.
- ## [Radio: Big Band]
- [Pierce] How far away it all seems:
Fun, affection, tenderness.
More later, Dad.
It's time to go on the night shift.
[Pierce's Voice] Well, Dad,
another day, another happy hour.
Not too much.
I'm praying later.
Look, I'm your commanding officer.
I can promote you in the field,
or we can go back to my place.
Doc?
I gotta join my outfit. I just
wanna thank you for patchin' me up.
No charge.
And also for giving me
a lot to think about.
Lieutenant.
Good luck.
[Pierce's Voice]
One of the happier happy hours, Dad.
Excuse me.
Come on over.
I want you to meet my friend.
Hawk, this is Nurse Anna Lindstrom.
- Oh, hey.
- She's with the Swedish unit.
- I thought you two might hit it off.
- I'll be with you in a minute.
- All right.
- Have a seat. I'll get you a drink.
♪ So don't forget, folks ♪
♪That's what you get, folks ♪
♪ For makin' whoopee ♪♪
What is that? "Whoopee"?
I'll be with you
in a minute, darling.