M*A*S*H (1972–1983): Season 8, Episode 11 - Life Time - full transcript
When soldier needs an aorta or else he could be paralyzed. And when another soldier is brain dead but still alive, they have to decide if they should remove his aorta to save the other and they only have 20 minutes to decide.
♪♪ [theme]
MARGARET: Hurry up.
We can finish this hand before
the chopper gets here.
HAWKEYE: "Hot Streak"
Houlihan strikes again.
KLINGER: Four-- And deal fast.
My money misses me.
MARGARET: Kiss your cash
good-bye, Corporal.
May he who brings the flowing
waters to the parched desert
grant me a small pair of aces.
May the mother of your camel
spit in your yogurt.
Dealer takes one.
Here he comes.
HAWKEYE: Ah, feh. Pass.
-MARGARET: Hunnicutt, bet.
He's coming closer.
-B.J.: Fifty.
Call. What do you got?
Well, let's see. 4, 5--
Lay them down!
8, 10, queen--
Beat that.
Ha ha!
-4s and 7s.
-Ha ha!
Hold it! Hold it!
All bets are off!
The chopper's landing!
Not until the skids hit the
dirt, buster! Three deuces!
HAWKEYE: Oh!
How about that? Let's go!
Save my money, Klinger!
Better check him first.
Battalion Aid says he's
got an open chest wound.
How is he?
Respiratory distress.
The blood's pouring through
the pressure bandage.
We better get him
into O.R. fast.
He's not gonna make it to O.R.
I think he's got
a lacerated aorta.
I can't get in there.
You got a knife?
-I got a pocketknife.
-Let me have it.
-What are you doing?
-As soon as I get
my hand in there,
I'm going to compress the aorta
against his spinal column
and try to stop the bleeding.
-All right.
I think I got it.
-Jeep!
If we cut off the blood
to his spinal cord
for more than 20 minutes,
he stands a good chance
of winding up paralyzed.
What time is it?
14:32, sir.
All right. Let's go.
Swing around there.
Come back this way.
Come all the way
back this way.
-I got ya.
-All right. Push me up.
-How's the other guy?
-Fractured tibia.
He'll be all right.
-How's his breathing?
-Not too bad yet,
but when we get to O.R.,
he's going to need to be
ventilated.
Hold these guys down
and go like hell.
We haven't got much time.
Roy, AB-negative.
Go to the blood bank.
and get all you can.
-Yes, sir.
-Margaret, we're gonna need
the large vascular clamps.
I'll have them
waiting for you.
How about you pack him
in ice, Hawk?
Hypothermia might reduce
the chance of paralysis.
-Yeah. Klinger!
-Yo!
Go get my canvas bathtub
and bring all the ice
you can find.
My feet are like wings.
-How bad is it? Can you tell?
-No, I can't tell
until I get inside
and get a look at it.
Better be prepared
for the worst.
-Kellye, get that bottle
of arterial grafts.
-Right away, Doctor.
Isn't this great, huh?
What luck.
I haven't held anything
good in my hand all day.
I need some help here.
Somebody get on this!
-[jet flying overhead]
-[chattering]
Swing around. Somebody
get those doors inside.
Table 2. Margaret, give me
those vascular clamps.
I can't find them!
Hurry up! My fingers
are cramping.
There's
no AB-negative.
I brought O-positive.
I hate to give him too much
uncrossmatched blood,
especially a different type.
You can only give him
what you got.
Hang the first two units.
Margaret, the clamps!
Better hurry, Margaret,
before the numbness in his
brain reaches his fingers.
Wait a minute. Those clamps
are in the Swamp.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
What the hell are they
doing in the Swamp?
Those things are
irreplaceable, Margaret.
We wanted to keep them
somewhere safe.
-Where are they?
-They're in my footlocker
under the Journal
of Competitive Nudity
between the shorts
with the holes
and the can
of Norwegian kippers.
Those are my kippers,
you animal.
-The iceman cometh.
-Put it behind me.
Let's move this table forward.
Get it right up against
my legs, right behind my legs.
That's all the ice you got?
I'm sorry.
I'm a desert person.
Get his midsection.
Step right in the tub.
That's right. Now step--
Step through.
Get his head and shoulders
flat--Right on the floor.
Klinger, we're gonna
need more ice.
Try the Officers Club.
I'll be back in a trice
with the ice.
-Trice?
-Fifteen ways to a better
vocabulary, Major.
The keystone to executive
advancement is enhanced
by good verbiage.
Funk and Wagnall
are whirling dervishly
in their mausoleum.
-Great verbiage, Charles.
-I'm on day 14.
-[groaning]
-He's waking up!
Get him bagged down!
Get him on the table.
[groans subside]
Okay, where's the ice?
-That's all you got?
-A lot of business
in here today.
These guys are leaving tonight
They're trying to get loaded
before the bus does.
-We'll take what you got.
-Hey, wait a minute.
I can't sell drinks without ice.
You can taste
the booze that way.
We need it for the O.R.
Come on, Frank.
-How you doing, Hawk?
-Freezing my phalanges.
I brought the arterial
grafts, Doctor.
Let me see them.
No, these are too small.
If too much of
the aorta is gone,
we're gonna be in big trouble.
Well, this one's
pretty big.
That's no bigger
than spaghettini.
We need rigatoni.
Spoken like a true
meatball surgeon.
Rigatoni? Doctor, I'm part
Chinese and part Hawaiian.
Can you put that in ethnic
measurements I can understand?
A small egg roll.
That I understand.
We don't have any that big.
I know we don't.
We took so many grafts
from so many guys
who didn't make it.
How could we not
take an aorta?
MAN [on P.A.]:
Ambulance in the compound.
Surgeons not otherwise
occupied needed for triage.
Tout de suite, please.
My hands are kinda full.
Would you answer the door?
-Kellye, take over for me.
-Right.
-Keep cool.
-[groans]
Okay, this is it.
Down to the last cube.
Dump it in.
[screams]
Margaret, the clamps!
Relax. I found them.
Well, bring 'em over
before my hand falls off.
What do you mean,
bring 'em over?
They're soaking in alcohol.
I've had my unsterilized
hand in this man's body
for the past ten minutes.
What kind of a nurse
do you think I am?
I'm not going to let
an instrument go
from your dirty sock
to that man's heart!
Your hand will last
a few seconds more.
Somebody heat me up!
Stick me in a toaster!
Set my pants on fire!
-Brr.
-Yeah, that's what I say.
Excuse me, Father.
Did you do the tracheotomy,
Colonel?
Yeah,
but it won't help.
His head injury
is much too severe.
Pupils are fixed
and dilated.
Blood pressure's up,
pulse is coming down.
He's not going to make it.
I'm afraid not.
There's nothing else
we can do here.
You better finish up, Father.
Right.
What else you got?
Just a superficial
belly wound.
Will you take him? I'd like
to stay with this boy.
What for? There's
nothing you can do.
Hawkeye's
got a kid in O.R.
who may be missing
part of his aorta.
You want to take
a graft from him?
Right.
All right. I'll take
the belly wound.
How old do you think
he is, about 18?
Father,
will you tell Hawkeye
I may have an aorta for him
in five or 10 minutes?
Right.
Are you all right, B.J.?
Yeah.
I feel helpless just waiting
for this boy to die.
It's not what
I was trained for.
I'll tell Hawkeye.
MAN:
Hey, Doc!
How is he?
Is he gonna be all right?
He's in pretty bad shape.
There's nothing we can do.
Well, you gotta do something.
You can't just let him die.
You're a doctor.
Look--
Look, Roberts,
it's out of my hands.
As much as I'd like to,
there are some things
I can't fix.
You gotta save him. Please!
Get him inside.
Don't let him die!
Hawkeye, B.J. says
you should have an aorta
in a few minutes.
-Yeah? How few?
-He's got a casualty
who is comatose--
Pupils fixed and dilated.
I hope B.J.'s right.
He could
stay alive for hours.
Here they are.
I hope they're clean enough--
Okay. Kellye,
keep pumping blood.
We're going to lose a lot real
quick getting these clamps on.
We're running
very low on blood.
The chopper
may have a few units.
I'll go check it out.
Pierce, if you use all our
blood on one quixotic case,
what are you going to do
if we're suddenly inundated
with even more casualties?
Klinger, get off my back
and get on the radio.
-See if there's any
fighting going on.
-Gotcha.
Soon as I get
these clamps in place,
let's get the chest open to
see what's going on in there.
Margaret, put on some gloves.
I need some assistance
right now.
I hate this.
I haven't even scrubbed.
Well, let's just think
clean thoughts.
Is he dead, B.J.?
He's still holding on, Father.
We're moving him to pre-op
so I can take the graft
the minute he goes.
Dear God, I've never
asked You for this before,
and I don't know what
You're going to think of me
for asking now,
but if You're going
to take him anyway,
please take him quickly
so we can save the other boy.
[ticking]
Look, Captain,
I gotta know.
Is there any action
in your area?
I can only release
that information
to your commanding officer.
My C.O. is in surgery!
He can't come to the radio.
-Sorry, Corporal.
-Wait a minute!
Um, here he comes now!
[imitating Potter] What in
the name of Sweet Fanny Adams
is going on here?
Can we expect
casualties or not?
Colonel Potter, that you?
You bet your horse's heinie.
Everything is quiet,
Colonel.
Good. Now, the next time
you get a call from
Corporal Klinger, cooperate!
When you're talking to him,
you're talking to me.
Yes, sir.
Sorry, Colonel.
Now, while I have you
on the phone,
is there anything
you boys have to trade?
Ever get any baklava?
All right,
take him into post-op.
How goes it over here, Pierce?
Damned aorta's
totally shot.
There's no way we can
get by without a graft.
That's messy, isn't it?
I'm going to cut
this segment away
and get ready for a graft.
You do that and you've
committed yourself.
What if you don't
get a graft?
He can't live
without an aorta.
Well, what other choice
do I have?
Patch it with one
of the arterial grafts.
Charles, his aorta
is a piece of hamburger.
It can't be repaired.
-I suggest you prepare
for a graft.
-There's an idea.
Pickups and scissors.
I hope you're right,
Charles.
Terrific phone call!
No fighting in the area.
The only thing due
in the next 24 hours
is a case of scotch
and three dozen baklava.
How did you get that?
They were very cooperative--
[imitating Potter]
Once I explained who I was.
You all right? You sound
like a donkey in heat.
-Post nasal drip, sir.
-Oh.
I hear you might be doing
an aortic graft.
I'd better be doing one.
I just removed a bit hunk
of his aorta.
How long's it been
clamped off?
I don't know.
15 or 16 minutes.
You better make it snappy.
A few more minutes,
he'll either be paralyzed
or die of renal failure.
-You're telling me.
How's his pressure?
-Still down, Doctor.
Give him another unit.
This is our last one, Doctor.
We'll have to tap
somebody in the camp.
-What's his blood type?
-AB-negative.
He'll be better off
with his own brand.
Anybody here got it?
I have a large supply
of that very special type.
I can let you have a pint.
-Charles, lie down
and start bleeding.
-Just a second.
I'm not so sure about that.
When's the last time
you gave a pint, Winchester?
-Five days ago.
-He's just in it
for the money, Colonel.
Five days ago? I've got enough
dizzy surgeons around here.
I don't want one
passing out on me.
Sir, the Winchesters
have always given blood
in times of crisis,
starting with
the Revolutionary War.
-They gave to both sides.
-[scoffs]
All right, but give him fluid
at the same time.
I don't want his volume
to get too low.
I didn't think Charles
could get any lower.
Pierce, I'm giving you my blood.
Try to wag a civil tongue,
will you?
Reeking as it does
of my Norwegian kippers.
Be gentle with me.
Can you save him, Doc?
No, I can't save him, Roberts.
There's nothing we can do.
What're you doing to him?
What's he doing
with that stuff?
Roberts,
your friend is dying,
and it doesn't
make any sense,
but maybe there's some good
that can come out of it.
What do you mean?
What good?
Captain, Hawkeye says
as soon as you get the graft,
put it in this
and rush it to the O.R.
-Get lost, Klinger.
-Okay,
but Hawkeye wants to know
as soon as he's dead.
Will you shut up
and get out of here?
I hope I didn't
say anything wrong.
You bastard.
You've just been
waiting to use him.
You don't care who he is
or anything about him.
He's just a piece
of meat to you.
Listen, Roberts,
there's a boy in the O.R.
who's gonna die
because part of the artery
that comes out of his heart
has been shot away.
What makes that guy
more important
than Harold Sherwood?
You gotta understand this.
Most of your friend's
brain is gone.
He stopped being
Harold Sherwood
when that shell
hit him in the head.
He's been dead
for half an hour.
His heart just didn't know
enough to stop beating.
B.J.!
His breathing
is very irregular.
He won't be
with us much longer.
Gwen, finish prepping Roberts
out in the hall.
Wait a minute.
Take me over there.
I want to be with him
when he dies.
-Roberts, please!
-Damn it!
Just take me over there.
I want to say good-bye to him.
Wheel him over.
[gasping, gagging]
In his pocket,
there's a picture
of me and him in Tokyo.
I want it.
Here you are.
Okay, get me out of here.
Let's get the graft.
I observed
this operation once.
Be sure you have two
clean, viable ends.
Make certain
you leave yourself
with absolutely
strong tissue.
Charles, it won't be necessary
to tell us the
incredibly obvious.
The merely obvious
will do fine.
Okay, we've got
two clean, viable ends.
Now all we need is a graft
to stick in the middle.
I want a longer segment.
Give me more retraction.
How's that?
That's better.
Smooth pickups.
All right,
now give me the pan.
That's it.
-Okay, I got it.
-Great. Put on some gloves.
-Margaret, rinse
the graft in heparin.
-Right.
You have any trouble
getting it?
-No problem.
-What took so long?
The guy it was attached to
was still using it.
I'm sorry. I forgot what you
were going through out there.
Here's the graft, Doctor.
First you complete
the upper anastomosis,
and then you size it.
You have--[winces]
have to have an exact fit.
Okay, let's sew!
3-0 silk all around.
Oh, by the way, mattress
sutures are preferable.
No time. First we get
the circulation reestablished,
and then we make it neat.
-His name was Harold.
-Who?
The kid who gave us
this aorta.
Oh.
Harold, meet George.
George, this is Harold.
I hate these people,
Father.
Don't be bitter, son.
They're trying to save
a man's life.
God, he was such a good guy.
He was so innocent.
That's why
we called him Harold.
We tried calling him
Harry a couple times,
but it just
didn't seem to fit.
It's such a terrible waste,
isn't it?
He was the best guy
in the outfit, Father.
No matter how bad things got,
you could always count on him.
Isn't it enough he died?
Did they have to
cut him up like that?
Son, let me ask you something.
Harold sounds like the kind
of a man who gave of himself.
Do you think he could've
thrown himself on a grenade
to save someone else?
Sure he would. He wouldn't
even think about it.
Even if he didn't know
the other person?
Sure.
Well,
that's what he's doing now.
[slurring] Uh, don't
hold the edges of the
graft too roughly
because you might
damage the inte--
Speak up, Charles.
You're mumbling.
I think that blood
we're getting
is coming directly
from his brain.
[chuckles]
There's one other thing.
It's very important--
You mustn't forget--
[mutters, moans]
Good night, sweet prince.
How's it going, boys?
The graft's almost in.
I think we might make it.
Good. What's with him?
HAWKEYE: He gave his all.
Well, some people get to
"all" faster than others.
Put him on the first table
and get the screen in here.
Hey, Doc. Is it gonna work?
I think so.
When he wakes up,
I want to talk to him.
I want to tell him
about Harold.
That sounds like a good idea.
Thanks, Roberts.
POTTER: We're going to
put you to sleep now, son.
Do a good job, Doc.
You bet your boots.
-[air pumping]
-Okay, speed up the blood.
I'm taking the clamps off.
Margaret, get some lap sponges
ready in case it leaks.
They're ready.
Here goes.
Pack it! Pack it!
Put pressure on it. Suction.
His pressure's going down,
Doctor.
-Pump the blood in faster.
-Put the clamp back on.
I don't want to stop
the circulation again.
Can you sew it
while it's bleeding?
Give me a needle.
Okay, take the sponges off.
Take it all the way off.
-Easy.
-Suction. I can't
see what I'm doing.
Okay. Here you go.
I think one more
and I got it.
Come on.
-Okay, you've got it.
-Okay.
Nifty knitting.
Suction. Thank you.
Still a few small leaks.
Yeah, I don't think
it's anything serious.
Let's pack it off for five
or ten more minutes,
and then, uh, then
we'll fix it later.
I want to keep that blood
flowing to the kidneys
and spinal cord.
Congratulations, partner.
Pour in the antibiotics.
Kellye, time.
It's 2:55 and 25 seconds.
We're three and a half
minutes over! Damn it!
Maybe the hypothermia
bought us some time.
Yeah. On the other hand,
maybe it didn't.
Hawk, we saved his life.
Yeah, well I guess
that's something.
It's more than something.
It's everything.
[air pumping]
[sighs]
Why don't you take it
easy for a while?
I'll check your
patient for you.
Thank you, no.
A Winchester never
accepts charity.
Charles, you just gave
some blood. Take it easy.
Pierce,
I shall do my rounds...
in 30 or 40 minutes.
Ciao.
Doctors, he's coming around.
George, can you hear me?
Hello, George!
-Uncover his feet.
-Got 'em.
George, wiggle your toes.
George?
Harold, are you in there?
Maybe he's just not
awake enough yet.
Hey! Come on!
Wiggle your toes!
-Please!
-Come on, damn it. Wiggle!
-[cheering]
-All right!
[laughing]
We did it! We did it!
Do you know what we did?
We made a guy who's part
George and part Harold.
And part Winchester.
That's right.
When he wakes up,
he won't know whether to be
brave, generous, or pompous.
♪♪ [theme]
♪♪ [theme]
MARGARET: Hurry up.
We can finish this hand before
the chopper gets here.
HAWKEYE: "Hot Streak"
Houlihan strikes again.
KLINGER: Four-- And deal fast.
My money misses me.
MARGARET: Kiss your cash
good-bye, Corporal.
May he who brings the flowing
waters to the parched desert
grant me a small pair of aces.
May the mother of your camel
spit in your yogurt.
Dealer takes one.
Here he comes.
HAWKEYE: Ah, feh. Pass.
-MARGARET: Hunnicutt, bet.
He's coming closer.
-B.J.: Fifty.
Call. What do you got?
Well, let's see. 4, 5--
Lay them down!
8, 10, queen--
Beat that.
Ha ha!
-4s and 7s.
-Ha ha!
Hold it! Hold it!
All bets are off!
The chopper's landing!
Not until the skids hit the
dirt, buster! Three deuces!
HAWKEYE: Oh!
How about that? Let's go!
Save my money, Klinger!
Better check him first.
Battalion Aid says he's
got an open chest wound.
How is he?
Respiratory distress.
The blood's pouring through
the pressure bandage.
We better get him
into O.R. fast.
He's not gonna make it to O.R.
I think he's got
a lacerated aorta.
I can't get in there.
You got a knife?
-I got a pocketknife.
-Let me have it.
-What are you doing?
-As soon as I get
my hand in there,
I'm going to compress the aorta
against his spinal column
and try to stop the bleeding.
-All right.
I think I got it.
-Jeep!
If we cut off the blood
to his spinal cord
for more than 20 minutes,
he stands a good chance
of winding up paralyzed.
What time is it?
14:32, sir.
All right. Let's go.
Swing around there.
Come back this way.
Come all the way
back this way.
-I got ya.
-All right. Push me up.
-How's the other guy?
-Fractured tibia.
He'll be all right.
-How's his breathing?
-Not too bad yet,
but when we get to O.R.,
he's going to need to be
ventilated.
Hold these guys down
and go like hell.
We haven't got much time.
Roy, AB-negative.
Go to the blood bank.
and get all you can.
-Yes, sir.
-Margaret, we're gonna need
the large vascular clamps.
I'll have them
waiting for you.
How about you pack him
in ice, Hawk?
Hypothermia might reduce
the chance of paralysis.
-Yeah. Klinger!
-Yo!
Go get my canvas bathtub
and bring all the ice
you can find.
My feet are like wings.
-How bad is it? Can you tell?
-No, I can't tell
until I get inside
and get a look at it.
Better be prepared
for the worst.
-Kellye, get that bottle
of arterial grafts.
-Right away, Doctor.
Isn't this great, huh?
What luck.
I haven't held anything
good in my hand all day.
I need some help here.
Somebody get on this!
-[jet flying overhead]
-[chattering]
Swing around. Somebody
get those doors inside.
Table 2. Margaret, give me
those vascular clamps.
I can't find them!
Hurry up! My fingers
are cramping.
There's
no AB-negative.
I brought O-positive.
I hate to give him too much
uncrossmatched blood,
especially a different type.
You can only give him
what you got.
Hang the first two units.
Margaret, the clamps!
Better hurry, Margaret,
before the numbness in his
brain reaches his fingers.
Wait a minute. Those clamps
are in the Swamp.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
What the hell are they
doing in the Swamp?
Those things are
irreplaceable, Margaret.
We wanted to keep them
somewhere safe.
-Where are they?
-They're in my footlocker
under the Journal
of Competitive Nudity
between the shorts
with the holes
and the can
of Norwegian kippers.
Those are my kippers,
you animal.
-The iceman cometh.
-Put it behind me.
Let's move this table forward.
Get it right up against
my legs, right behind my legs.
That's all the ice you got?
I'm sorry.
I'm a desert person.
Get his midsection.
Step right in the tub.
That's right. Now step--
Step through.
Get his head and shoulders
flat--Right on the floor.
Klinger, we're gonna
need more ice.
Try the Officers Club.
I'll be back in a trice
with the ice.
-Trice?
-Fifteen ways to a better
vocabulary, Major.
The keystone to executive
advancement is enhanced
by good verbiage.
Funk and Wagnall
are whirling dervishly
in their mausoleum.
-Great verbiage, Charles.
-I'm on day 14.
-[groaning]
-He's waking up!
Get him bagged down!
Get him on the table.
[groans subside]
Okay, where's the ice?
-That's all you got?
-A lot of business
in here today.
These guys are leaving tonight
They're trying to get loaded
before the bus does.
-We'll take what you got.
-Hey, wait a minute.
I can't sell drinks without ice.
You can taste
the booze that way.
We need it for the O.R.
Come on, Frank.
-How you doing, Hawk?
-Freezing my phalanges.
I brought the arterial
grafts, Doctor.
Let me see them.
No, these are too small.
If too much of
the aorta is gone,
we're gonna be in big trouble.
Well, this one's
pretty big.
That's no bigger
than spaghettini.
We need rigatoni.
Spoken like a true
meatball surgeon.
Rigatoni? Doctor, I'm part
Chinese and part Hawaiian.
Can you put that in ethnic
measurements I can understand?
A small egg roll.
That I understand.
We don't have any that big.
I know we don't.
We took so many grafts
from so many guys
who didn't make it.
How could we not
take an aorta?
MAN [on P.A.]:
Ambulance in the compound.
Surgeons not otherwise
occupied needed for triage.
Tout de suite, please.
My hands are kinda full.
Would you answer the door?
-Kellye, take over for me.
-Right.
-Keep cool.
-[groans]
Okay, this is it.
Down to the last cube.
Dump it in.
[screams]
Margaret, the clamps!
Relax. I found them.
Well, bring 'em over
before my hand falls off.
What do you mean,
bring 'em over?
They're soaking in alcohol.
I've had my unsterilized
hand in this man's body
for the past ten minutes.
What kind of a nurse
do you think I am?
I'm not going to let
an instrument go
from your dirty sock
to that man's heart!
Your hand will last
a few seconds more.
Somebody heat me up!
Stick me in a toaster!
Set my pants on fire!
-Brr.
-Yeah, that's what I say.
Excuse me, Father.
Did you do the tracheotomy,
Colonel?
Yeah,
but it won't help.
His head injury
is much too severe.
Pupils are fixed
and dilated.
Blood pressure's up,
pulse is coming down.
He's not going to make it.
I'm afraid not.
There's nothing else
we can do here.
You better finish up, Father.
Right.
What else you got?
Just a superficial
belly wound.
Will you take him? I'd like
to stay with this boy.
What for? There's
nothing you can do.
Hawkeye's
got a kid in O.R.
who may be missing
part of his aorta.
You want to take
a graft from him?
Right.
All right. I'll take
the belly wound.
How old do you think
he is, about 18?
Father,
will you tell Hawkeye
I may have an aorta for him
in five or 10 minutes?
Right.
Are you all right, B.J.?
Yeah.
I feel helpless just waiting
for this boy to die.
It's not what
I was trained for.
I'll tell Hawkeye.
MAN:
Hey, Doc!
How is he?
Is he gonna be all right?
He's in pretty bad shape.
There's nothing we can do.
Well, you gotta do something.
You can't just let him die.
You're a doctor.
Look--
Look, Roberts,
it's out of my hands.
As much as I'd like to,
there are some things
I can't fix.
You gotta save him. Please!
Get him inside.
Don't let him die!
Hawkeye, B.J. says
you should have an aorta
in a few minutes.
-Yeah? How few?
-He's got a casualty
who is comatose--
Pupils fixed and dilated.
I hope B.J.'s right.
He could
stay alive for hours.
Here they are.
I hope they're clean enough--
Okay. Kellye,
keep pumping blood.
We're going to lose a lot real
quick getting these clamps on.
We're running
very low on blood.
The chopper
may have a few units.
I'll go check it out.
Pierce, if you use all our
blood on one quixotic case,
what are you going to do
if we're suddenly inundated
with even more casualties?
Klinger, get off my back
and get on the radio.
-See if there's any
fighting going on.
-Gotcha.
Soon as I get
these clamps in place,
let's get the chest open to
see what's going on in there.
Margaret, put on some gloves.
I need some assistance
right now.
I hate this.
I haven't even scrubbed.
Well, let's just think
clean thoughts.
Is he dead, B.J.?
He's still holding on, Father.
We're moving him to pre-op
so I can take the graft
the minute he goes.
Dear God, I've never
asked You for this before,
and I don't know what
You're going to think of me
for asking now,
but if You're going
to take him anyway,
please take him quickly
so we can save the other boy.
[ticking]
Look, Captain,
I gotta know.
Is there any action
in your area?
I can only release
that information
to your commanding officer.
My C.O. is in surgery!
He can't come to the radio.
-Sorry, Corporal.
-Wait a minute!
Um, here he comes now!
[imitating Potter] What in
the name of Sweet Fanny Adams
is going on here?
Can we expect
casualties or not?
Colonel Potter, that you?
You bet your horse's heinie.
Everything is quiet,
Colonel.
Good. Now, the next time
you get a call from
Corporal Klinger, cooperate!
When you're talking to him,
you're talking to me.
Yes, sir.
Sorry, Colonel.
Now, while I have you
on the phone,
is there anything
you boys have to trade?
Ever get any baklava?
All right,
take him into post-op.
How goes it over here, Pierce?
Damned aorta's
totally shot.
There's no way we can
get by without a graft.
That's messy, isn't it?
I'm going to cut
this segment away
and get ready for a graft.
You do that and you've
committed yourself.
What if you don't
get a graft?
He can't live
without an aorta.
Well, what other choice
do I have?
Patch it with one
of the arterial grafts.
Charles, his aorta
is a piece of hamburger.
It can't be repaired.
-I suggest you prepare
for a graft.
-There's an idea.
Pickups and scissors.
I hope you're right,
Charles.
Terrific phone call!
No fighting in the area.
The only thing due
in the next 24 hours
is a case of scotch
and three dozen baklava.
How did you get that?
They were very cooperative--
[imitating Potter]
Once I explained who I was.
You all right? You sound
like a donkey in heat.
-Post nasal drip, sir.
-Oh.
I hear you might be doing
an aortic graft.
I'd better be doing one.
I just removed a bit hunk
of his aorta.
How long's it been
clamped off?
I don't know.
15 or 16 minutes.
You better make it snappy.
A few more minutes,
he'll either be paralyzed
or die of renal failure.
-You're telling me.
How's his pressure?
-Still down, Doctor.
Give him another unit.
This is our last one, Doctor.
We'll have to tap
somebody in the camp.
-What's his blood type?
-AB-negative.
He'll be better off
with his own brand.
Anybody here got it?
I have a large supply
of that very special type.
I can let you have a pint.
-Charles, lie down
and start bleeding.
-Just a second.
I'm not so sure about that.
When's the last time
you gave a pint, Winchester?
-Five days ago.
-He's just in it
for the money, Colonel.
Five days ago? I've got enough
dizzy surgeons around here.
I don't want one
passing out on me.
Sir, the Winchesters
have always given blood
in times of crisis,
starting with
the Revolutionary War.
-They gave to both sides.
-[scoffs]
All right, but give him fluid
at the same time.
I don't want his volume
to get too low.
I didn't think Charles
could get any lower.
Pierce, I'm giving you my blood.
Try to wag a civil tongue,
will you?
Reeking as it does
of my Norwegian kippers.
Be gentle with me.
Can you save him, Doc?
No, I can't save him, Roberts.
There's nothing we can do.
What're you doing to him?
What's he doing
with that stuff?
Roberts,
your friend is dying,
and it doesn't
make any sense,
but maybe there's some good
that can come out of it.
What do you mean?
What good?
Captain, Hawkeye says
as soon as you get the graft,
put it in this
and rush it to the O.R.
-Get lost, Klinger.
-Okay,
but Hawkeye wants to know
as soon as he's dead.
Will you shut up
and get out of here?
I hope I didn't
say anything wrong.
You bastard.
You've just been
waiting to use him.
You don't care who he is
or anything about him.
He's just a piece
of meat to you.
Listen, Roberts,
there's a boy in the O.R.
who's gonna die
because part of the artery
that comes out of his heart
has been shot away.
What makes that guy
more important
than Harold Sherwood?
You gotta understand this.
Most of your friend's
brain is gone.
He stopped being
Harold Sherwood
when that shell
hit him in the head.
He's been dead
for half an hour.
His heart just didn't know
enough to stop beating.
B.J.!
His breathing
is very irregular.
He won't be
with us much longer.
Gwen, finish prepping Roberts
out in the hall.
Wait a minute.
Take me over there.
I want to be with him
when he dies.
-Roberts, please!
-Damn it!
Just take me over there.
I want to say good-bye to him.
Wheel him over.
[gasping, gagging]
In his pocket,
there's a picture
of me and him in Tokyo.
I want it.
Here you are.
Okay, get me out of here.
Let's get the graft.
I observed
this operation once.
Be sure you have two
clean, viable ends.
Make certain
you leave yourself
with absolutely
strong tissue.
Charles, it won't be necessary
to tell us the
incredibly obvious.
The merely obvious
will do fine.
Okay, we've got
two clean, viable ends.
Now all we need is a graft
to stick in the middle.
I want a longer segment.
Give me more retraction.
How's that?
That's better.
Smooth pickups.
All right,
now give me the pan.
That's it.
-Okay, I got it.
-Great. Put on some gloves.
-Margaret, rinse
the graft in heparin.
-Right.
You have any trouble
getting it?
-No problem.
-What took so long?
The guy it was attached to
was still using it.
I'm sorry. I forgot what you
were going through out there.
Here's the graft, Doctor.
First you complete
the upper anastomosis,
and then you size it.
You have--[winces]
have to have an exact fit.
Okay, let's sew!
3-0 silk all around.
Oh, by the way, mattress
sutures are preferable.
No time. First we get
the circulation reestablished,
and then we make it neat.
-His name was Harold.
-Who?
The kid who gave us
this aorta.
Oh.
Harold, meet George.
George, this is Harold.
I hate these people,
Father.
Don't be bitter, son.
They're trying to save
a man's life.
God, he was such a good guy.
He was so innocent.
That's why
we called him Harold.
We tried calling him
Harry a couple times,
but it just
didn't seem to fit.
It's such a terrible waste,
isn't it?
He was the best guy
in the outfit, Father.
No matter how bad things got,
you could always count on him.
Isn't it enough he died?
Did they have to
cut him up like that?
Son, let me ask you something.
Harold sounds like the kind
of a man who gave of himself.
Do you think he could've
thrown himself on a grenade
to save someone else?
Sure he would. He wouldn't
even think about it.
Even if he didn't know
the other person?
Sure.
Well,
that's what he's doing now.
[slurring] Uh, don't
hold the edges of the
graft too roughly
because you might
damage the inte--
Speak up, Charles.
You're mumbling.
I think that blood
we're getting
is coming directly
from his brain.
[chuckles]
There's one other thing.
It's very important--
You mustn't forget--
[mutters, moans]
Good night, sweet prince.
How's it going, boys?
The graft's almost in.
I think we might make it.
Good. What's with him?
HAWKEYE: He gave his all.
Well, some people get to
"all" faster than others.
Put him on the first table
and get the screen in here.
Hey, Doc. Is it gonna work?
I think so.
When he wakes up,
I want to talk to him.
I want to tell him
about Harold.
That sounds like a good idea.
Thanks, Roberts.
POTTER: We're going to
put you to sleep now, son.
Do a good job, Doc.
You bet your boots.
-[air pumping]
-Okay, speed up the blood.
I'm taking the clamps off.
Margaret, get some lap sponges
ready in case it leaks.
They're ready.
Here goes.
Pack it! Pack it!
Put pressure on it. Suction.
His pressure's going down,
Doctor.
-Pump the blood in faster.
-Put the clamp back on.
I don't want to stop
the circulation again.
Can you sew it
while it's bleeding?
Give me a needle.
Okay, take the sponges off.
Take it all the way off.
-Easy.
-Suction. I can't
see what I'm doing.
Okay. Here you go.
I think one more
and I got it.
Come on.
-Okay, you've got it.
-Okay.
Nifty knitting.
Suction. Thank you.
Still a few small leaks.
Yeah, I don't think
it's anything serious.
Let's pack it off for five
or ten more minutes,
and then, uh, then
we'll fix it later.
I want to keep that blood
flowing to the kidneys
and spinal cord.
Congratulations, partner.
Pour in the antibiotics.
Kellye, time.
It's 2:55 and 25 seconds.
We're three and a half
minutes over! Damn it!
Maybe the hypothermia
bought us some time.
Yeah. On the other hand,
maybe it didn't.
Hawk, we saved his life.
Yeah, well I guess
that's something.
It's more than something.
It's everything.
[air pumping]
[sighs]
Why don't you take it
easy for a while?
I'll check your
patient for you.
Thank you, no.
A Winchester never
accepts charity.
Charles, you just gave
some blood. Take it easy.
Pierce,
I shall do my rounds...
in 30 or 40 minutes.
Ciao.
Doctors, he's coming around.
George, can you hear me?
Hello, George!
-Uncover his feet.
-Got 'em.
George, wiggle your toes.
George?
Harold, are you in there?
Maybe he's just not
awake enough yet.
Hey! Come on!
Wiggle your toes!
-Please!
-Come on, damn it. Wiggle!
-[cheering]
-All right!
[laughing]
We did it! We did it!
Do you know what we did?
We made a guy who's part
George and part Harold.
And part Winchester.
That's right.
When he wakes up,
he won't know whether to be
brave, generous, or pompous.
♪♪ [theme]
♪♪ [theme]