M*A*S*H (1972–1983): Season 9, Episode 10 - Operation Friendship - full transcript
When the steam generator explodes in O.R., Klinger pushes Charles out of the line of fire just in time, but B.J. catches part of the blast and has a serious arm injury. For saving his life, Charles declares he is fully indebted to Maxwell Klinger and becomes his personal assistant. But after several days of bowing to Klinger's ever command, Charles begins to wish he HAD been killed. Meanwhile, Hawkeye doesn't like the doctor called in to help treat B.J., who refuses to admit there is anything wrong with him.
♪♪♪ (theme)
You look like you just shot
the rapids in a Dixie cup.
Go grab some sack time.
I'd love to, sir,
but something keeps
nagging at me.
Father,
did you ever feel
that there was something
real important
that you forgot to do?
Once, in the middle
of a sermon,
I forgot the words
to the 23rd Psalm.
Or was it the 22nd Psalm?
I got kicked out of Texas
because I forgot the Alamo.
I wish I could
forget my appetite.
I'm so hungry I could
eat a powdered horse.
I'll tell you what I forgot.
I left the surgical
reports in the scrub room.
I'll get em for you,
Hawk.
I was gonna skip
breakfast anyway.
I don't have
the energy to gag.
I'm gonna go eat.
Any other volunteers
for this suicide mission?
Not I. I'm going to dine
alone in my tent.
Mildred sent me
some Wheatena.
‐(crash)
‐Aah!
CHARLES:
Klinger, you idiot!
Oh, boy. Now I remember.
I left the towel hamper
blocking the aisle.
You scatterbrained sloth!
Once again, you have proven
that the simplest task
is far too complex for you.
‐But‐‐
‐Don't say "but."
It exhausts
half your vocabulary.
Get back in there and finish
your job, you goldbrick.
Hold on to your
Fruit of the Looms, Major.
Just because you took
a header on the hopper
is no reason
to chew out the boy.
Give him a break, Chuckie.
He's been busting his butt
in the O. R. all night long.
If I performed with the
competence of this dromedary,
I would be known
in medical circles
as Charles the Ripper.
Since you have proven incapable
of functioning by yourself,
I shall supervise.
Come, crumb.
POTTER: Steady there, Major.
Don't you go
exceeding my authority.
It's okay, Colonel.
He's rotten, but he's right.
I screwed up,
and I gotta finish my job.
Uh. Uh.
You know, you gotta
give Winchester credit.
Yeah?
He's bright, educated,
and an A1 surgeon.
And with all that,
he still found room
to be a total jerk.
That's a good little soldier.
Pick them all up and put
them into the hamper.
Major, I don't need
a towel tutor.
You need a breathing tutor.
(chuckles)
And what is this doing here?
Do I detect your
fine hand in this too?
Major Houlihan told me
to put it there.
Oh, well, I can understand
your misinterpreting
her instructions.
She probably gave them
to you in words.
This belongs over here.
(electric buzzing)
And how did you
manage that one?
It's the generator.
(hissing)
Get away
from the autoclave!
Don't tell me what to do,
you impertinent‐‐ Aah!
Hey, what's with the lights‐‐
What in blazes?
Hunnicutt, you all right?
Oh, boy.
My insides
are pure milk shake,
but I seem to be
in one piece.
How about them?
Are they okay?
You just go back to
the Swamp and lay down.
I'll tend to these two.
‐(B.J. groans)
‐You okay?
Uh, miraculously,
I believe so.
What happened?
When the generator cut out,
this gizmo must have
built up enough pressure
to toss its top.
I might have been killed.
Merciful heavens,
Klinger saved my life‐‐
Oh, my God. Klinger.
Say it isn't so.
Just let him live.
I swear I shall not rest
until my debt to him
has been repaid in full.
Your prayers have been
answered, Major.
Take it easy, son.
Your head hurt?
Ohh! Just where
it's hooked to my nose.
‐Let's have a look‐see.
‐Ohh! Ahh!
Max. Max.
Thank you. Thank you.
You saved my life.
I'll never forget it.
Looks like that blast
put the old honker
out of commission, Klinger.
‐Oh, my. Nose broken?
‐Most likely.
First thing we gotta do
is have your head X‐rayed,
and let's hope there's nothing
more busted than that beak.
Oh, it hurts like hell.
‐Let me help you up here.
‐Nice and slow, son.
Easy, Max. Fear not.
I shall personally see
to your well‐being.
‐Are you feeling dizzy?
‐No, no. Just my nose.
Will it look the same?
If that's what you want,
your proboscis will soar
majestically as ever before.
Major, your hands are shaking
like a hula dancer
with the hiccups.
‐What say I handle this?
‐Uh, perhaps you're right.
Max, we gotta go
and get those X‐rays now.
I just hope
we have a wide‐angle
lens for that schnoz.
‐Ohh! Ohh!
‐Easy. Easy. Easy.
So Charles is fine,
but Klinger has damage
to over 50% of his body.
‐He broke his nose.
‐Oh, poor guy.
I'll tell you,
I walked in there,
next thing I knew,
I'm flat on my back.
Look, Beej, I'm really
sorry about this.
Don't worry about it.
It's all right.
I just got a hell
of a whack on the arm.
‐I'm gonna get you
an ice pack.
‐No, it's okay.
Well, just to be
on the safe side,
let me give you
an insurance exam.
‐No. All I need is some rest.
‐You sure?
‐I'm sure.
‐Okay. If you're sure.
Good night, Mom.
‐There.
‐Here we are, Max.
Home, sweet home.
I'm all right, Major.
I could've walked.
You might as well enjoy
the rickshaw ride, Klinger.
Boy, you sure earned it.
Indeed you did.
Well, Max,
here's your beddy‐bye.
Thanks again, Major.
I can take it from here.
Nonsense. Do not
strain yourself.
Here, take my arm.
‐Oh. Oh, I'm sorry.
‐There we are.
Swing your feet.
Here, let me‐‐
let me tuck you in.
There we are.
Everything hunky‐dory?
As long
as I don't sneeze.
You just take it easy.
I'll see
if there's somebody
floating around
in the typing pool
we can use as a clerk
pro tem.
Perish the thought.
The very least I can do
is perform
this noble lad's duties
whilst he's on the mend.
Well, that's mighty
Samaritan of you, Major,
but I don't see you
as the typing type.
Ha! Colonel,
you're just saying that
because you think
clerking is beneath me.
Well, it is, but I insist.
Hmm. Well, seeing as
how it's Klinger 1,
Winchester nothing,
I suppose I ought to give you
a chance to even the score.
‐Do you take shorthand?
‐Of course not.
‐Do you know the filing system?
‐Bite your tongue.
‐Can you make coffee?
‐In an emergency.
You just left
Klinger in the dust.
The job is yours.
Remember, my dear Max,
from this moment on,
I am at your beck and call.
I appreciate that, Major.
Please, call me Charles.
Now, what can I do for you?
Nothing, Charles.
I'm okay.
No, now I insist.
Anything you want.
Anything?
Yes, yes. Anything.
Nah, nah. Nah.
No. Now, Max, tell me.
Say it. Say it.
Well, if you're sure
it's not too much trouble,
‐a little tea would be nice.
‐Tea?
‐Yeah.
‐Trouble?
If I had to,
I would sail to Ceylon.
I'd love a drop of honey.
But, darn, there's
probably none here.
Hah! Honey is no object.
I shall milk the finest
bees in all Korea.
Well, how about that?
Every broken nose
has a silver lining.
(clears throat)
‐How are you feeling?
‐Huh?
Don't tell me you've
been here all this time.
No, of course not.
I did lots of stuff.
I paced,
I read a magazine,
I went out and got
my doctor bag
so I can examine you.
Hawk, I'm okay.
If I want an exam,
I'll call
for an appointment.
Okay, if you say
it's good, it's good.
‐How's the boy?
‐It's not good.
He won't let me
examine him.
Can't you command him
to present arms and legs
and everything
they're attached to?
Sounds sensible to me.
What's next?
Did I eat my vegetables?
Look, this is me walking,
talking, drinking,
as in alive and well.
I came through without
a scratch. I'm fine.
So here's to my
perfectly good health.
(glass shatters)
Okay, so it's a little sore.
Hunnicutt, I think we should
take some pictures of that arm
and get the inside story.
Colonel, I'm a little shaky.
Wouldn't you be?
Beej, don't be stupid.
You may have something wrong
with that arm. Come on.
Now will you
believe me?
I have to admit it.
There's nothing here.
Apparently, just
a soft‐tissue injury.
So I would appreciate it
if you two would find
somebody sick to worry
about. Good‐bye.
I haven't been
told off like that
since I waxed
the La Salle
with Mildred's
new pedal pushers.
I'm still not sold.
B.J. Hunnicutt doesn't
drop a martini glass
unless his 10th martini
is in it.
Pierce, your hand
would be shaking too
if you'd just come
within a whisker
of having your mail
forwarded to kingdom come.
Now just relax.
He's feeling no pain,
and this black and white
shows he's in the pink.
Wish I were as certain
about it as you are.
I tell you what,
let's give him a day's rest.
I'll call I‐Corps
and get a sub.
Hunnicutt just needs
to be left alone.
Oh, I think he needs
more than that.
And you can help out
by not butting in.
Fine. Okay.
♪♪♪ (Humming "Anvil Chorus")
♪ Ba dum dum ♪
Finis. I have completed
the daily reports,
the weekly report,
swept the office,
and emptied the trash.
Had you a cat,
he would now be out.
Terrific, Charles.
Are you sure you don't
want any of my dinner?
This stuff is really
pretty good when you
can't smell it.
No, thank you, Max.
Oh, the hour is rather late,
so if there's nothing else,
I think I'll
take your tray and retire.
What more could I ask for?
Good night, Charles.
Good night, sweet prince.
‐Oh, wait.
‐Yes, Max?
You really don't have
to bring me breakfast
in the morning.
Max, you must eat.
Oh, yeah, I suppose
that is true, yes.
Well, if I'm able.
Of course it's true,
and of course you are able.
And I have memorized
your order down
to the last crumb.
That's wonderful.
Even the part about
the three‐minute eggs?
Yes.
And the lightly
buttered toast?
Yes. With the crusts
trimmed off, huh?
You are far
too good to me.
I will hear
no more of that.
A Winchester
always repays a debt,
especially a debt of honor.
‐Good night, Max.
‐One more thing, Charles.
‐Yes, Max?
‐No. No, forget it.
No, what is it?
Well‐‐Well, I‐‐
I think it would really
boost my spirits
if you read me
a bedtime story.
Aren't you just a tad old
for fairy tales?
Fairy tales, hell.
This is for adults only.
I, the Jury,
by Mickey Spillane.
I traded a dozen cigars
for that.
Just read
the underlined parts.
M‐Ma‐‐
"I kissed her hard.
I knew I was hurting her,
but she didn't pull away."
Yeah? Yeah?
Gee, Max, my eyes
are so, uh, tired.
How about a game of checkers
or a fast game of Go Fish or‐‐
A game is fine if you
don't want to read to me.
It's just that I find it
so heartwarming
to hear your voice
ringing out vibrantly
after you came so close to
being, shall we say, dead.
"Chapter 1."
Comfy?
"I shook the rain from my hat
and walked into the room."
"Nobody said a word."
Who's the company
clerk here?
‐He is.
‐Oh.
You ordered
a replacement surgeon.
I'm Dr. Norman Traeger.
Ah, it's a pleasure
to meet you, sir.
Dr. Charles Emerson Winchester,
Harvard and Mass General.
He makes a great
cup of coffee too.
How can you be
a company clerk
and a doctor
at the same time?
‐Long story.
‐I'm sure it is.
But right now I'm
looking for your C. O.
Of course you are.
Well, you'll never
find Colonel Potter's
tent by yourself,
and I'd be derelict in my
duties if I didn't show you.
What about my story?
Oh, gee, Max,
I hate to put a book down
mid‐death sentence,
but I am, after all,
just another working stiff.
I understand perfectly, Major.
‐Come along, doctor.
‐Right. Don't forget my bags.
What?
Of course.
Then you can go on
to sleep, Charles.
I'll be fine.
‐Good.
‐(moaning)
Back in 10 minutes, Max.
I don't need a replacement.
Take it easy, son.
It's only temporary.
We thought it'd be
a good idea.
We? You were
part of this?
Well, sort of.
This is ridiculous.
Calm down, Hunnicutt.
Doctor, go ahead.
Okay, let me have
a look at that arm.
Excuse me, doctor.
Oh, excuse me,
doctor. Sorry.
Uh, would you
fill in the fill‐in
on who's chief surgeon
around here?
Now what's going on?
If you didn't
want a specialist,
why'd you send for me?
‐A specialist?
‐Oh, did I forget to mention
that I figured as long
as we need a replacement
for Hunnicutt,
it'd be a good idea
to get somebody
who could take care
of him too?
So I called Tokyo General.
Well, excuse me.
I'm B. J.'s doctor.
I don't like your
going behind my back.
Come now, Doctor.
You're a professional.
Surely you see the sense
of bringing in an expert.
Wait a minute! Hold it!
Hold it, all of you.
I don't need any expert.
I don't need an amateur.
I'm a doctor.
I don't even need me.
Now why don't you all
just get off my back?
Hold your horses
and your tongues.
Seems to be a wee
bit of confusion
as to who's playing what part
in this little service comedy.
Let me see if I got
the roles right.
Playing the injured party,
B. J. Hunnicutt.
Playing the friend‐‐
a real strong, silent type‐‐
Hawkeye Pierce.
And in a special guest
appearance as the handyman,
Dr. Norm Traeger.
Dominating the screen
as your leading man,
Colonel Sherman Potter.
Now, scene 1, the examination.
Dr. Traeger, action.
All right, come on.
Why don't you all
just leave me alone?
Cut! Hunnicutt, this is
the part where you say
"Boy, I'm sure glad you
showed up. Here's my arm."
How's that feel?
It's nothing. Really.
I don't suppose
you had it X‐rayed?
You suppose wrong.
We did.
And we didn't find anything.
Maybe you people
didn't find anything.
Well, just a second.
I'm not some kid
with a toy doctor kit.
I'm an M. D., just like you.
‐Oh, really? Really?
‐Yeah.
Well, have you been, uh,
handling this type of case
for the past 20 years
in private practice?
Doesn't matter.
Since I got here,
I've had about 20 years'
experience
in private practice,
corporal practice,
and just plain
major surgery.
If it moves,
I operate on it.
Maybe. But at any hospital
back in the States,
you'd be fresh
out of residency.
Whoa! This is still
a Potter production,
and I don't want
any prima donnas in it.
This must be a movie.
It can't be for real.
Doctor, seeing as you're
gonna be a member
of this medicine show
for a while,
perhaps I should mention
that I put a lot of stock
in the word "cooperation."
Well, you'll have to
bear with me, Colonel.
It isn't easy being
the world's oldest draftee.
Besides, at home,
I used to give the orders.
Oh, the injustice
of it all.
I begged them
to let me come over here.
Now don't start up again.
Put your mongoose and cobra
act in separate cages.
Traeger, you can use
the VIP tent.
Very Important Physician.
I'll have a look
at those X‐rays,
and meantime
you get some rest.
X‐rays and rest.
Boy, I tell you,
I stand humbled in
the presence of greatness.
I was gonna bleed him
with leeches.
Button it, Pierce.
I'll stop by tomorrow.
Don't worry.
I'm not going anywhere.
That's the spirit.
It's all gonna
work out hunky‐dory.
I love happy endings.
(rattling)
(clatter)
(tooting "Reveille")
‐Huh?
‐Oh, morning, Uncle Chuck.
Oh, you shouldn't
sleep in a chair.
That's bad for your back.
I had no intention
of sleeping here.
While reading your book,
I was overcome by ennui.
Gotcha. That stuff
makes me hot too.
You can finish it later.
Right now, I don't want
you to miss breakfast.
Oh, no, Max, thank you.
I'm not hungry.
Well, I am.
And I know how much
that means to you
to bring it to me.
Yes. You‐‐ Good.
Good hearty appetite returning.
First signpost
on the road to recovery.
Right you are, Major.
Believe me,
I'm not the kind of guy
who can lay around
here forever.
If after two or three
weeks of this,
if I'm not feeling better,
it's up and at 'em,
irregardless.
Most admirable, Max.
But for today,
after breakfast in bunk,
maybe you can wheel me
over to the club
to throw some darts.
‐What?
‐Throw darts.
Of course a brainy guy like
you might find that boring,
and I wouldn't dream
of asking you to stay.
So feel free
to come back here.
Maybe inventory supplies,
even varnish the floor.
Max,
there is a fine line
between Good Samaritan
and abused toady.
At the moment, I am
teetering on the precipice.
You are absolutely right.
I'm a fair man.
The floor can wait
till tomorrow.
MAN (on P. A.):
Attention, all personnel.
Attention, all personnel.
We've got people
coming in, folks,
with more wounded
than their pride.
‐Let's go! As in now!
‐(helicopter approaching)
(chattering)
(sighs)
How're you doing?
Fine. Fine. Let's get going.
Good morning. They woke me up
just in time for the nightmare.
You and me both. How come
you brought your worse half?
I thought I benched you.
I may not be able
to do surgery,
but I can still
lend a hand.
Well, if you're sure
you're up to it,
get over to pre‐op.
Okay.
I hope they have my size.
I'm tired of looking
like a house painter.
Charles, why is it your
clothes look slept in
and your bed doesn't?
Because I was up all night
with a sick friend.
Is this the same friend
to whom you pledged eternal
gratitude just yesterday?
Colonel, it seems like
an eternity since yesterday.
‐Oh, good morning, doctor.
‐Good morning, Colonel.
Anything you need,
just holler.
Thank you. Judging from
the size of this place,
I think I should be able
to find my way around
pretty well.
Uh, you, uh, haven't been
to a MASH unit before,
so let me give you
a little rundown.
The scrub suits
are on the table,
the masks are on the shelf,
and I am in charge.
Well, how fitting.
You're a perfect match
for these crude surroundings.
‐Yeah, well, wait, wait,
‐Uh, look,
there's gonna be
enough blood in there
without you two at
each other's throats again.
Oh, don't worry
about me, Colonel.
I'm a very easy man
to work for.
‐TRAEGER: Suction.
‐Suction, doctor.
POTTER: How goes
the battle, Traeger?
This guy's belly
looks like spaghetti.
That's why they call us
meatball surgeons.
Not like a day
at the office, is it?
No. But it's nothing
I can't handle, Chief.
CHARLES: Dr. Traeger,
you are obviously
an able surgeon,
which means
you're a terrible
disappointment to Pierce.
Here you are. More gloves.
Max! How nice to see you up
and about and looking so well.
When lives
are in the balance,
a Klinger is always there,
no matter how great
the pain or injury,
as you are well aware.
I'm sure I won't forget it
as long as you live.
Needless to say,
I'll be really beat
after this grueling session.
Oh, it's such a load
off my mind
knowing that you'll
be here
to put away
the towel hamper
so nobody
will trip over it.
I can't wait for his nose
to get better
so that I can break it again.
This one's next.
Get him inside right away.
‐Put some more
pressure on this.
‐Yes, doctor.
He can wait.
Sorry, doc.
Could I have a corpsman
or a busboy
to clear the table?
Well, now that that kid's
stomach is tied up in knots,
he'll be fine.
MARGARET:
Nice job, doctor.
It's hard to believe
this is your first time
in combat surgery.
Surgery is surgery,
Major.
Only where I come from,
the patients
don't share a room
until after the operation.
(chuckles)
That takes care
of the shrapnel.
Now let's see about this
resection.
Oh, you're right.
I'll get the Babcock clamps.
Hold it a second, Traeger.
I better double check.
Can't you keep your second
opinions to yourself?
Sorry, doctor.
There's a big difference
between a hospital zone
and a war zone.
Shrapnel just loves
to play hide‐and‐seek.
You gotta look real close.
Use your hands‐‐
up to your elbows
if necessary.
Gee, I wish
I'd thought of that.
Did you find anything?
Where the hell's
my next patient?
And give me
some fresh gloves.
Who's next?
Let's go! Who's next?
I think it better be me.
Oh, God. Your hand looks
like it's seen a ghost.
The fingers are numb.
What's with Hunnicutt?
Pulse is diminished.
Poor circulation
to his hand.
I think he may have
a compartment hemorrhage.
‐Oh, boy.
‐A way to find out fast
is to lift that middle finger,
see how bad it hurts.
Go on. You're just
following doctor's orders.
‐Ohh!
‐MARGARET: Oh, God.
That's a compartment
hemorrhage, all right.
TRAEGER: That hand needs
to be operated on immediately
or he's gonna lose
the use of it.
Okay, Traeger, you got
a patient over there.
‐Well, what about this one?
‐I'll take this one.
I specialize
in meatball surgery.
Whatever you say, boss.
I just work here.
POTTER:
Enough chitchat. Get cutting.
Well, you're a lucky man.
It seems your friend here
has finally decided
who's the best man
for the job.
You better watch
what you say, Traeger.
I've still got one good hand.
‐That hurt?
‐A little.
That's all right,
that's all right.
The color's
a lot better too.
Flex it.
Mm‐hmm!
Oh, thanks a lot, doc.
Congratulations, Beej.
You're a two‐fisted
drinker again.
Hmm.
You did a terrific job,
doctor.
Of course I did.
What did you expect?
I'm not an intern,
you know.
Do you believe this guy?
If you're that obnoxious,
you better be good.
And, damn it, he is.
But he's still a jackass.
(chuckling) I know
what I should have done.
‐What?
‐I could have
really showed him.
Should have died
right there on the table.
Ohh! Yeah. Oh, boy.
Wouldn't we have had
the last laugh?
Well, you would.
Well, yeah.
Paging Charles Emerson
Winchester, the living.
This is your savior
speaking.
You are wanted
in the reading room.
So for the last time,
I say chop‐chop, Chuck‐Chuck.
Oh, thank goodness
you're here.
I lost my copy
of I, the Jury.
You can help me find it.
Fear not, dear Maxwell.
Mr. Spillane's
torrid tome
is in the safest
of hands: mine.
How appropriate.
A plain brown wrapper.
(chuckles)
Well, let's get started.
Rather than reading,
and more in keeping
with your heroism,
what I propose
is an I, the Jury
ticker tape parade.
I don't understand.
Oh, well,
then let me Spillane.
♪♪♪ (theme)
You look like you just shot
the rapids in a Dixie cup.
Go grab some sack time.
I'd love to, sir,
but something keeps
nagging at me.
Father,
did you ever feel
that there was something
real important
that you forgot to do?
Once, in the middle
of a sermon,
I forgot the words
to the 23rd Psalm.
Or was it the 22nd Psalm?
I got kicked out of Texas
because I forgot the Alamo.
I wish I could
forget my appetite.
I'm so hungry I could
eat a powdered horse.
I'll tell you what I forgot.
I left the surgical
reports in the scrub room.
I'll get em for you,
Hawk.
I was gonna skip
breakfast anyway.
I don't have
the energy to gag.
I'm gonna go eat.
Any other volunteers
for this suicide mission?
Not I. I'm going to dine
alone in my tent.
Mildred sent me
some Wheatena.
‐(crash)
‐Aah!
CHARLES:
Klinger, you idiot!
Oh, boy. Now I remember.
I left the towel hamper
blocking the aisle.
You scatterbrained sloth!
Once again, you have proven
that the simplest task
is far too complex for you.
‐But‐‐
‐Don't say "but."
It exhausts
half your vocabulary.
Get back in there and finish
your job, you goldbrick.
Hold on to your
Fruit of the Looms, Major.
Just because you took
a header on the hopper
is no reason
to chew out the boy.
Give him a break, Chuckie.
He's been busting his butt
in the O. R. all night long.
If I performed with the
competence of this dromedary,
I would be known
in medical circles
as Charles the Ripper.
Since you have proven incapable
of functioning by yourself,
I shall supervise.
Come, crumb.
POTTER: Steady there, Major.
Don't you go
exceeding my authority.
It's okay, Colonel.
He's rotten, but he's right.
I screwed up,
and I gotta finish my job.
Uh. Uh.
You know, you gotta
give Winchester credit.
Yeah?
He's bright, educated,
and an A1 surgeon.
And with all that,
he still found room
to be a total jerk.
That's a good little soldier.
Pick them all up and put
them into the hamper.
Major, I don't need
a towel tutor.
You need a breathing tutor.
(chuckles)
And what is this doing here?
Do I detect your
fine hand in this too?
Major Houlihan told me
to put it there.
Oh, well, I can understand
your misinterpreting
her instructions.
She probably gave them
to you in words.
This belongs over here.
(electric buzzing)
And how did you
manage that one?
It's the generator.
(hissing)
Get away
from the autoclave!
Don't tell me what to do,
you impertinent‐‐ Aah!
Hey, what's with the lights‐‐
What in blazes?
Hunnicutt, you all right?
Oh, boy.
My insides
are pure milk shake,
but I seem to be
in one piece.
How about them?
Are they okay?
You just go back to
the Swamp and lay down.
I'll tend to these two.
‐(B.J. groans)
‐You okay?
Uh, miraculously,
I believe so.
What happened?
When the generator cut out,
this gizmo must have
built up enough pressure
to toss its top.
I might have been killed.
Merciful heavens,
Klinger saved my life‐‐
Oh, my God. Klinger.
Say it isn't so.
Just let him live.
I swear I shall not rest
until my debt to him
has been repaid in full.
Your prayers have been
answered, Major.
Take it easy, son.
Your head hurt?
Ohh! Just where
it's hooked to my nose.
‐Let's have a look‐see.
‐Ohh! Ahh!
Max. Max.
Thank you. Thank you.
You saved my life.
I'll never forget it.
Looks like that blast
put the old honker
out of commission, Klinger.
‐Oh, my. Nose broken?
‐Most likely.
First thing we gotta do
is have your head X‐rayed,
and let's hope there's nothing
more busted than that beak.
Oh, it hurts like hell.
‐Let me help you up here.
‐Nice and slow, son.
Easy, Max. Fear not.
I shall personally see
to your well‐being.
‐Are you feeling dizzy?
‐No, no. Just my nose.
Will it look the same?
If that's what you want,
your proboscis will soar
majestically as ever before.
Major, your hands are shaking
like a hula dancer
with the hiccups.
‐What say I handle this?
‐Uh, perhaps you're right.
Max, we gotta go
and get those X‐rays now.
I just hope
we have a wide‐angle
lens for that schnoz.
‐Ohh! Ohh!
‐Easy. Easy. Easy.
So Charles is fine,
but Klinger has damage
to over 50% of his body.
‐He broke his nose.
‐Oh, poor guy.
I'll tell you,
I walked in there,
next thing I knew,
I'm flat on my back.
Look, Beej, I'm really
sorry about this.
Don't worry about it.
It's all right.
I just got a hell
of a whack on the arm.
‐I'm gonna get you
an ice pack.
‐No, it's okay.
Well, just to be
on the safe side,
let me give you
an insurance exam.
‐No. All I need is some rest.
‐You sure?
‐I'm sure.
‐Okay. If you're sure.
Good night, Mom.
‐There.
‐Here we are, Max.
Home, sweet home.
I'm all right, Major.
I could've walked.
You might as well enjoy
the rickshaw ride, Klinger.
Boy, you sure earned it.
Indeed you did.
Well, Max,
here's your beddy‐bye.
Thanks again, Major.
I can take it from here.
Nonsense. Do not
strain yourself.
Here, take my arm.
‐Oh. Oh, I'm sorry.
‐There we are.
Swing your feet.
Here, let me‐‐
let me tuck you in.
There we are.
Everything hunky‐dory?
As long
as I don't sneeze.
You just take it easy.
I'll see
if there's somebody
floating around
in the typing pool
we can use as a clerk
pro tem.
Perish the thought.
The very least I can do
is perform
this noble lad's duties
whilst he's on the mend.
Well, that's mighty
Samaritan of you, Major,
but I don't see you
as the typing type.
Ha! Colonel,
you're just saying that
because you think
clerking is beneath me.
Well, it is, but I insist.
Hmm. Well, seeing as
how it's Klinger 1,
Winchester nothing,
I suppose I ought to give you
a chance to even the score.
‐Do you take shorthand?
‐Of course not.
‐Do you know the filing system?
‐Bite your tongue.
‐Can you make coffee?
‐In an emergency.
You just left
Klinger in the dust.
The job is yours.
Remember, my dear Max,
from this moment on,
I am at your beck and call.
I appreciate that, Major.
Please, call me Charles.
Now, what can I do for you?
Nothing, Charles.
I'm okay.
No, now I insist.
Anything you want.
Anything?
Yes, yes. Anything.
Nah, nah. Nah.
No. Now, Max, tell me.
Say it. Say it.
Well, if you're sure
it's not too much trouble,
‐a little tea would be nice.
‐Tea?
‐Yeah.
‐Trouble?
If I had to,
I would sail to Ceylon.
I'd love a drop of honey.
But, darn, there's
probably none here.
Hah! Honey is no object.
I shall milk the finest
bees in all Korea.
Well, how about that?
Every broken nose
has a silver lining.
(clears throat)
‐How are you feeling?
‐Huh?
Don't tell me you've
been here all this time.
No, of course not.
I did lots of stuff.
I paced,
I read a magazine,
I went out and got
my doctor bag
so I can examine you.
Hawk, I'm okay.
If I want an exam,
I'll call
for an appointment.
Okay, if you say
it's good, it's good.
‐How's the boy?
‐It's not good.
He won't let me
examine him.
Can't you command him
to present arms and legs
and everything
they're attached to?
Sounds sensible to me.
What's next?
Did I eat my vegetables?
Look, this is me walking,
talking, drinking,
as in alive and well.
I came through without
a scratch. I'm fine.
So here's to my
perfectly good health.
(glass shatters)
Okay, so it's a little sore.
Hunnicutt, I think we should
take some pictures of that arm
and get the inside story.
Colonel, I'm a little shaky.
Wouldn't you be?
Beej, don't be stupid.
You may have something wrong
with that arm. Come on.
Now will you
believe me?
I have to admit it.
There's nothing here.
Apparently, just
a soft‐tissue injury.
So I would appreciate it
if you two would find
somebody sick to worry
about. Good‐bye.
I haven't been
told off like that
since I waxed
the La Salle
with Mildred's
new pedal pushers.
I'm still not sold.
B.J. Hunnicutt doesn't
drop a martini glass
unless his 10th martini
is in it.
Pierce, your hand
would be shaking too
if you'd just come
within a whisker
of having your mail
forwarded to kingdom come.
Now just relax.
He's feeling no pain,
and this black and white
shows he's in the pink.
Wish I were as certain
about it as you are.
I tell you what,
let's give him a day's rest.
I'll call I‐Corps
and get a sub.
Hunnicutt just needs
to be left alone.
Oh, I think he needs
more than that.
And you can help out
by not butting in.
Fine. Okay.
♪♪♪ (Humming "Anvil Chorus")
♪ Ba dum dum ♪
Finis. I have completed
the daily reports,
the weekly report,
swept the office,
and emptied the trash.
Had you a cat,
he would now be out.
Terrific, Charles.
Are you sure you don't
want any of my dinner?
This stuff is really
pretty good when you
can't smell it.
No, thank you, Max.
Oh, the hour is rather late,
so if there's nothing else,
I think I'll
take your tray and retire.
What more could I ask for?
Good night, Charles.
Good night, sweet prince.
‐Oh, wait.
‐Yes, Max?
You really don't have
to bring me breakfast
in the morning.
Max, you must eat.
Oh, yeah, I suppose
that is true, yes.
Well, if I'm able.
Of course it's true,
and of course you are able.
And I have memorized
your order down
to the last crumb.
That's wonderful.
Even the part about
the three‐minute eggs?
Yes.
And the lightly
buttered toast?
Yes. With the crusts
trimmed off, huh?
You are far
too good to me.
I will hear
no more of that.
A Winchester
always repays a debt,
especially a debt of honor.
‐Good night, Max.
‐One more thing, Charles.
‐Yes, Max?
‐No. No, forget it.
No, what is it?
Well‐‐Well, I‐‐
I think it would really
boost my spirits
if you read me
a bedtime story.
Aren't you just a tad old
for fairy tales?
Fairy tales, hell.
This is for adults only.
I, the Jury,
by Mickey Spillane.
I traded a dozen cigars
for that.
Just read
the underlined parts.
M‐Ma‐‐
"I kissed her hard.
I knew I was hurting her,
but she didn't pull away."
Yeah? Yeah?
Gee, Max, my eyes
are so, uh, tired.
How about a game of checkers
or a fast game of Go Fish or‐‐
A game is fine if you
don't want to read to me.
It's just that I find it
so heartwarming
to hear your voice
ringing out vibrantly
after you came so close to
being, shall we say, dead.
"Chapter 1."
Comfy?
"I shook the rain from my hat
and walked into the room."
"Nobody said a word."
Who's the company
clerk here?
‐He is.
‐Oh.
You ordered
a replacement surgeon.
I'm Dr. Norman Traeger.
Ah, it's a pleasure
to meet you, sir.
Dr. Charles Emerson Winchester,
Harvard and Mass General.
He makes a great
cup of coffee too.
How can you be
a company clerk
and a doctor
at the same time?
‐Long story.
‐I'm sure it is.
But right now I'm
looking for your C. O.
Of course you are.
Well, you'll never
find Colonel Potter's
tent by yourself,
and I'd be derelict in my
duties if I didn't show you.
What about my story?
Oh, gee, Max,
I hate to put a book down
mid‐death sentence,
but I am, after all,
just another working stiff.
I understand perfectly, Major.
‐Come along, doctor.
‐Right. Don't forget my bags.
What?
Of course.
Then you can go on
to sleep, Charles.
I'll be fine.
‐Good.
‐(moaning)
Back in 10 minutes, Max.
I don't need a replacement.
Take it easy, son.
It's only temporary.
We thought it'd be
a good idea.
We? You were
part of this?
Well, sort of.
This is ridiculous.
Calm down, Hunnicutt.
Doctor, go ahead.
Okay, let me have
a look at that arm.
Excuse me, doctor.
Oh, excuse me,
doctor. Sorry.
Uh, would you
fill in the fill‐in
on who's chief surgeon
around here?
Now what's going on?
If you didn't
want a specialist,
why'd you send for me?
‐A specialist?
‐Oh, did I forget to mention
that I figured as long
as we need a replacement
for Hunnicutt,
it'd be a good idea
to get somebody
who could take care
of him too?
So I called Tokyo General.
Well, excuse me.
I'm B. J.'s doctor.
I don't like your
going behind my back.
Come now, Doctor.
You're a professional.
Surely you see the sense
of bringing in an expert.
Wait a minute! Hold it!
Hold it, all of you.
I don't need any expert.
I don't need an amateur.
I'm a doctor.
I don't even need me.
Now why don't you all
just get off my back?
Hold your horses
and your tongues.
Seems to be a wee
bit of confusion
as to who's playing what part
in this little service comedy.
Let me see if I got
the roles right.
Playing the injured party,
B. J. Hunnicutt.
Playing the friend‐‐
a real strong, silent type‐‐
Hawkeye Pierce.
And in a special guest
appearance as the handyman,
Dr. Norm Traeger.
Dominating the screen
as your leading man,
Colonel Sherman Potter.
Now, scene 1, the examination.
Dr. Traeger, action.
All right, come on.
Why don't you all
just leave me alone?
Cut! Hunnicutt, this is
the part where you say
"Boy, I'm sure glad you
showed up. Here's my arm."
How's that feel?
It's nothing. Really.
I don't suppose
you had it X‐rayed?
You suppose wrong.
We did.
And we didn't find anything.
Maybe you people
didn't find anything.
Well, just a second.
I'm not some kid
with a toy doctor kit.
I'm an M. D., just like you.
‐Oh, really? Really?
‐Yeah.
Well, have you been, uh,
handling this type of case
for the past 20 years
in private practice?
Doesn't matter.
Since I got here,
I've had about 20 years'
experience
in private practice,
corporal practice,
and just plain
major surgery.
If it moves,
I operate on it.
Maybe. But at any hospital
back in the States,
you'd be fresh
out of residency.
Whoa! This is still
a Potter production,
and I don't want
any prima donnas in it.
This must be a movie.
It can't be for real.
Doctor, seeing as you're
gonna be a member
of this medicine show
for a while,
perhaps I should mention
that I put a lot of stock
in the word "cooperation."
Well, you'll have to
bear with me, Colonel.
It isn't easy being
the world's oldest draftee.
Besides, at home,
I used to give the orders.
Oh, the injustice
of it all.
I begged them
to let me come over here.
Now don't start up again.
Put your mongoose and cobra
act in separate cages.
Traeger, you can use
the VIP tent.
Very Important Physician.
I'll have a look
at those X‐rays,
and meantime
you get some rest.
X‐rays and rest.
Boy, I tell you,
I stand humbled in
the presence of greatness.
I was gonna bleed him
with leeches.
Button it, Pierce.
I'll stop by tomorrow.
Don't worry.
I'm not going anywhere.
That's the spirit.
It's all gonna
work out hunky‐dory.
I love happy endings.
(rattling)
(clatter)
(tooting "Reveille")
‐Huh?
‐Oh, morning, Uncle Chuck.
Oh, you shouldn't
sleep in a chair.
That's bad for your back.
I had no intention
of sleeping here.
While reading your book,
I was overcome by ennui.
Gotcha. That stuff
makes me hot too.
You can finish it later.
Right now, I don't want
you to miss breakfast.
Oh, no, Max, thank you.
I'm not hungry.
Well, I am.
And I know how much
that means to you
to bring it to me.
Yes. You‐‐ Good.
Good hearty appetite returning.
First signpost
on the road to recovery.
Right you are, Major.
Believe me,
I'm not the kind of guy
who can lay around
here forever.
If after two or three
weeks of this,
if I'm not feeling better,
it's up and at 'em,
irregardless.
Most admirable, Max.
But for today,
after breakfast in bunk,
maybe you can wheel me
over to the club
to throw some darts.
‐What?
‐Throw darts.
Of course a brainy guy like
you might find that boring,
and I wouldn't dream
of asking you to stay.
So feel free
to come back here.
Maybe inventory supplies,
even varnish the floor.
Max,
there is a fine line
between Good Samaritan
and abused toady.
At the moment, I am
teetering on the precipice.
You are absolutely right.
I'm a fair man.
The floor can wait
till tomorrow.
MAN (on P. A.):
Attention, all personnel.
Attention, all personnel.
We've got people
coming in, folks,
with more wounded
than their pride.
‐Let's go! As in now!
‐(helicopter approaching)
(chattering)
(sighs)
How're you doing?
Fine. Fine. Let's get going.
Good morning. They woke me up
just in time for the nightmare.
You and me both. How come
you brought your worse half?
I thought I benched you.
I may not be able
to do surgery,
but I can still
lend a hand.
Well, if you're sure
you're up to it,
get over to pre‐op.
Okay.
I hope they have my size.
I'm tired of looking
like a house painter.
Charles, why is it your
clothes look slept in
and your bed doesn't?
Because I was up all night
with a sick friend.
Is this the same friend
to whom you pledged eternal
gratitude just yesterday?
Colonel, it seems like
an eternity since yesterday.
‐Oh, good morning, doctor.
‐Good morning, Colonel.
Anything you need,
just holler.
Thank you. Judging from
the size of this place,
I think I should be able
to find my way around
pretty well.
Uh, you, uh, haven't been
to a MASH unit before,
so let me give you
a little rundown.
The scrub suits
are on the table,
the masks are on the shelf,
and I am in charge.
Well, how fitting.
You're a perfect match
for these crude surroundings.
‐Yeah, well, wait, wait,
‐Uh, look,
there's gonna be
enough blood in there
without you two at
each other's throats again.
Oh, don't worry
about me, Colonel.
I'm a very easy man
to work for.
‐TRAEGER: Suction.
‐Suction, doctor.
POTTER: How goes
the battle, Traeger?
This guy's belly
looks like spaghetti.
That's why they call us
meatball surgeons.
Not like a day
at the office, is it?
No. But it's nothing
I can't handle, Chief.
CHARLES: Dr. Traeger,
you are obviously
an able surgeon,
which means
you're a terrible
disappointment to Pierce.
Here you are. More gloves.
Max! How nice to see you up
and about and looking so well.
When lives
are in the balance,
a Klinger is always there,
no matter how great
the pain or injury,
as you are well aware.
I'm sure I won't forget it
as long as you live.
Needless to say,
I'll be really beat
after this grueling session.
Oh, it's such a load
off my mind
knowing that you'll
be here
to put away
the towel hamper
so nobody
will trip over it.
I can't wait for his nose
to get better
so that I can break it again.
This one's next.
Get him inside right away.
‐Put some more
pressure on this.
‐Yes, doctor.
He can wait.
Sorry, doc.
Could I have a corpsman
or a busboy
to clear the table?
Well, now that that kid's
stomach is tied up in knots,
he'll be fine.
MARGARET:
Nice job, doctor.
It's hard to believe
this is your first time
in combat surgery.
Surgery is surgery,
Major.
Only where I come from,
the patients
don't share a room
until after the operation.
(chuckles)
That takes care
of the shrapnel.
Now let's see about this
resection.
Oh, you're right.
I'll get the Babcock clamps.
Hold it a second, Traeger.
I better double check.
Can't you keep your second
opinions to yourself?
Sorry, doctor.
There's a big difference
between a hospital zone
and a war zone.
Shrapnel just loves
to play hide‐and‐seek.
You gotta look real close.
Use your hands‐‐
up to your elbows
if necessary.
Gee, I wish
I'd thought of that.
Did you find anything?
Where the hell's
my next patient?
And give me
some fresh gloves.
Who's next?
Let's go! Who's next?
I think it better be me.
Oh, God. Your hand looks
like it's seen a ghost.
The fingers are numb.
What's with Hunnicutt?
Pulse is diminished.
Poor circulation
to his hand.
I think he may have
a compartment hemorrhage.
‐Oh, boy.
‐A way to find out fast
is to lift that middle finger,
see how bad it hurts.
Go on. You're just
following doctor's orders.
‐Ohh!
‐MARGARET: Oh, God.
That's a compartment
hemorrhage, all right.
TRAEGER: That hand needs
to be operated on immediately
or he's gonna lose
the use of it.
Okay, Traeger, you got
a patient over there.
‐Well, what about this one?
‐I'll take this one.
I specialize
in meatball surgery.
Whatever you say, boss.
I just work here.
POTTER:
Enough chitchat. Get cutting.
Well, you're a lucky man.
It seems your friend here
has finally decided
who's the best man
for the job.
You better watch
what you say, Traeger.
I've still got one good hand.
‐That hurt?
‐A little.
That's all right,
that's all right.
The color's
a lot better too.
Flex it.
Mm‐hmm!
Oh, thanks a lot, doc.
Congratulations, Beej.
You're a two‐fisted
drinker again.
Hmm.
You did a terrific job,
doctor.
Of course I did.
What did you expect?
I'm not an intern,
you know.
Do you believe this guy?
If you're that obnoxious,
you better be good.
And, damn it, he is.
But he's still a jackass.
(chuckling) I know
what I should have done.
‐What?
‐I could have
really showed him.
Should have died
right there on the table.
Ohh! Yeah. Oh, boy.
Wouldn't we have had
the last laugh?
Well, you would.
Well, yeah.
Paging Charles Emerson
Winchester, the living.
This is your savior
speaking.
You are wanted
in the reading room.
So for the last time,
I say chop‐chop, Chuck‐Chuck.
Oh, thank goodness
you're here.
I lost my copy
of I, the Jury.
You can help me find it.
Fear not, dear Maxwell.
Mr. Spillane's
torrid tome
is in the safest
of hands: mine.
How appropriate.
A plain brown wrapper.
(chuckles)
Well, let's get started.
Rather than reading,
and more in keeping
with your heroism,
what I propose
is an I, the Jury
ticker tape parade.
I don't understand.
Oh, well,
then let me Spillane.
♪♪♪ (theme)