MASH - Sixth Season (M*A*S*H)

Waiting for the Robert E. Lee?

No, sir, it's Major Burns. He was due back from "R" and "R" at 2400 hours.

I sent out the daily report and said he was back.

You've been here all night?

- At 0400 hours, I had to go to the latrine. - You took the scenic route.

- Yes, sir. - Check his tent? He could have come in...

while you were sitting with Batman and Robin.

- No, I checked. - It's not like Burns.

He's a lousy surgeon, a pain in the butt...

however, he's always on time.

- I know. That's why I'm worried. - Relax. Cigar?

- Won't it stunt my growth? - What do you got to lose?

Is it habit forming?

No. I've been smoking five cigars a day for 45 years.

- Never got the habit. - That's good to know.

- - So far so good.

- Mm, when do I suck? - I'll let you know.

Now.

Couple more times.

There you go.

Nothing like a good cigar on a bright, clear morning.

Or Cream of Wheat.

I can't believe it. There's some sausages left.

- Frank Burns isn't here. - Thank you.

- What's that, Klinger? - Scrambled eggs. Would you like a glass?

- You got a straw? - Just ran out.

Pass.

Ah, bonjour, mademoiselle. Comment alle z- vous?

Ah, it feels good to come home from a hard day at the factory...

sit down with my loved ones for a delightful repast.

You do have a way with words.

Yeah, I talk real good.

- Where's Major Burns? - Not back from leave yet.

It was very thoughtful of you two to arrange for his "R" and "R."

It was that or go bonkers.

That midnight whimpering.

You say he actually wept into his pillow?

His pillow, his pants, everything.

- I've never seen a man fall apart like that. - Plucky chap, though.

He did stand up at her wedding as best man.

Because we held him up.

You know, l-I've never wanted to bring this up before...

but I have a suspicion that Major Burns and Major Houlihan...

were somewhat attached.

They knew each other in the biblical sense.

- Both testaments. - Oh, dear. Oh, dear.

He's a married man.

My worst fears are confirmed.

That's it, son. There you go.

Oh. Oh, that cigar.

Oh, it's all part of growing up. You feel better?

Colonel, how can you smoke these things?

- You get used to it. I got sick on my first one. - How old were you?

I was nine. The cigar was 11.

Is that how come you're so short?

How would you like to be a P.F.C.?

You're tall. Oh, choppers.

I can't see anything. Is it Burns?

No, sir, it's coming from the north. It must be wounded.

- There's more than one. - Alert the staff.

- Okay if I throw the cigar away? - You got a cold?

- No. -

- Choppers! Choppers! -

- Choppers! Choppers! -

Salkowitz, gimme a hand!

- Hey, you're a medic. - Our battalion aid station got hit.

Crummy war.

- All right, pre-op and move it. - What a mess.

Some of these guys got clobbered twice. Once on the line...

- then three hours later at the aid station. - Their lucky day.

Move him into pre-op.

Father?

So young.

The younger they get, the older I get.

You're lucky, Sergeant. That's not too bad. We'll have you out of here in no time.

Hey, Doc, can you make it a little worse?

I don't wanna go back up there.

Well, we'll see. Maybe I can drop a stitch. Medic!

Get him to pre-op. Start an I.V. And give him some plasma.

Hell of a time for Burns to be late.

We can use every inept surgeon we can get.

When's Margaret due back from her honeymoon?

Two more days.

Superficial. Post-op. I wish I was with her.

- For crying out loud, she's with her husband. - I wouldn't peek.

Sirs, one of the wounds is a doctor.

Dr. Berman, I'm Dr. Pierce.

Don't waste your time, Doctor.

We just met, already he's kibitzing.

- Right hemothorax, full of blood. - Don't talk.

Pericardial tamponade, full of blood.

We'll fix you up, Doctor.

Fragment near the heart.

You got a rabbi?

We got a priest who loves Al Jolson.

- Get him. - Knock that off, Berman.

Nobody dies around here without my say-so.

Be careful.

- What do you think? - I gotta try.

I just hope Father Mulcahy can pray right to left.

- How's Berman? - I got a chest tube in. He's still bleeding.

- Can he travel to Seoul? - He may not even make it to post-op.

Klinger.

- What's the matter? - Snapped my garter belt.

Don't expect a Purple Heart. Special case there.

We need a nice, slow ride.

There you go, Sarge. Didn't even tingle, did it?

- You're gonna be fine. - Finished already, huh, Doc?

- Local anesthetic, seven stitches. - Can't you find anything else?

A hangnail, but the manicurist doesn't come in on Mondays.

- Klinger? - What am I, the only medic in the shop?

You're loved, you fool.

Command me, oh tall one with the Presbyterian features.

- Bed rest, then ambulatory. - Bed rest, then ambulatory.

Where the hell is Burns?

If we're lucky, he deserted.

You don't suppose... No, no, no, no.

- What? What? - No, it's ludicrous.

- Come on. What? What? - Well, Margaret's on her honeymoon in Tokyo...

and Frank's late getting back from Seoul.

- You think Frank went to Tokyo? - What could he do there?

Put saltpeter in Penobscott's teriyaki.

- - You boys are getting punchy.

I don't know why. Six hours of surgery is like a walk in the Vienna woods.

My varicose veins are pounding.

- I can hear them. - Done and done.

Klinger! This is crazy. I gotta get on the horn to "l" Corps.

See if we can trace Burns. We need another surgeon.

Over there. Just park it there.

Get my bag, Corporal.

Major Houlihan, is that you?

No, it's Amelia Earhart. Who do you think it is?

- You. - Oh, you dumb ninny.

How come you're back so early from your honeymoon?

- You're not my father. - No, ma'am. I sure am glad to see you though.

We got a terrible lot of wounded, and Major Burns isn't back from "R" and "R" yet.

He isn't? All right, I'll get changed and get right over.

- Did you have a good time? - Oh, stuff it.

- That's nice. -

- MASH 4077. - I got it, Radar.

- Oh, I'm sorry, Colonel. - Colonel Potter here. Who's this?

- I didn't know you had it, sir. - I've got it.

- Yes, sir. You certainly do. - What was your name again, Sergeant?

Sergeant Williams, sir. Military Police, "l" Corps.

Do you have a Major Frank Burns in your unit?

Medium build, beady eyes, weak chin?

That's him. He was involved in an incident here in Seoul.

And our report says that while drunk...

he accosted a blonde WAC.

Kept calling her Margaret.

Acted like he was shampooing her hair.

And then begged to clip her toenails.

Ran off before we could apprehend him. Is he there, sir?

No, and he's long overdue. Keep me posted, Sergeant.

- Jackass Burns. Radar. - Yes, sir. Is he on his way, sir?

On his way to a Section Eight. He's down in Seoul flipping his beanie.

Get hold of a Colonel Baldwin at Tokyo General.

- Tell him we're desperate for a surgeon. - Yes, sir.

- I'll be in O.R. If my legs get me that far. - I think you're tired, Colonel.

You know, Radar, you should have gone to medical school.

- Hello, Tokyo. - Hello, Tokyo.

# #

Double pair, royal.

That's 121 points...

- - ##

- And the game. - Damn cribbage!

Ah, Colonel, for a brief moment, you thought you had me...

but I scooted away.

What's the damage, Winchester?

Well, in round figures...

you owe me $672.11.

- - Colonel, I want to thank you...

- for teaching me this game. - Colonel?

Colonel Baldwin here. Yes?

I told you not to call me when I'm in conference.

Oh, yeah, that's Potter's outfit. What do they want?

How long do they need?

- No, it's impossible. -

Colonel, made a small error.

You owe me $672.17.

It's possible.

Care to put your head in the noose again?

I'd love to, but you won't have time.

For the next 48 hours, you belong to a MASH unit that's short a man.

MASH? That's one of those traveling medicine shows, isn't it?

Right. Grab the next flight to Seoul...

and get out to Colonel Potter at the 4077 th.

Why send your best doctor into a war zone?

Relax. It's just like two days here...

except for the artillery and the snakes.

- Better get moving, Winchester. - Surely you jest.

Surely you go.

We got a new surgeon on the way.

- A Major Charles Emerson Winchester. - I knew a Winchester.

- I knew an Emerson. - I got an Uncle Charles.

Well, at least we won't be working with a stranger.

Corporal Klinger? X rays on Brophy.

Coming! I can give you this in 8x 10s, wallet-si z e or our matchbook covers.

- You certainly move fast, Klinger. - Basic delicatessen training.

Put your finger on that artery. Scalpel.