M*A*S*H

Let's take a look in there. Give me the rib spreader.

‐Rib spreader. ‐What is it? What is‐‐

‐(all exclaiming) ‐Again? Come on with the lights!

‐POTTER: Get some lanterns in here. ‐Ow! Margaret,

you've caught my finger in the spreader! Geez.

Great! Terrific! Just dandy!

Hey, Bonzo, the auxiliary generator is missing.

Got a distended abdomen here. I need some gastric suction.

We'll whomp up a good old‐fashioned,

hand‐operated Wangensteen suction.

Welcome back, son.

I think I missed you even more than I miss Mildred.

Either of you seen Radar?

Last I saw him, he was in the officers club

having a touch of the grape.

Why? What's wrong?

Plenty.

I just got a wire from the boy's mother in Iowa.

Radar's uncle Ed passed away.

I'm goin' home, sir?

Radar, Lord knows your mother is a strong woman,

but she won't make it alone.

You ought to be there with her.

Radar, I'm very happy for you.

Yeah. I'm happy for me too.

I guess.

Gee.

I thought I lost this.

What is it?

It's my very own personal personal‐type thermometer.

‐Colonel Blake gave it to me, just before he‐‐ ‐Aw, Radar.

You got the rest of your life to look at stuff like that.

I'm in trouble here now!

Hey, look.

It's my Purple Heart.

Hawkeye pinned this on me himself.

He even saluted me.

Hawkeye's never saluted anybody.

I think I'm already on my own.

My uncle Ed.

Gee, I got so busy,

I forgot how much I'm gonna miss him.

Look, kid, I know it's tough on ya.

Believe me, I feel as bad as you do.

But you just can't throw me to the wolves.

Klinger, look, you've got to learn

to do this stuff yourself!

Nobody helped me when I took this job.

Yeah, but you're a born clerk. I'm a born civilian.

I hate offices. I'm lousy with numbers and letters.

I get paper cuts, and I lose things.

When I was a kid, my mother pinned my bike to my sleeve.

Listen, I'm not the clerk anymore. You're the clerk.

And this is a very important job!

Everybody depends on ya for everything.

Don't you understand that?

They depend on you for the mail,

the supplies‐‐ even the generators.

Now, look. You better pull yourself together,

or this place is gonna be one heck of a mess.

Well, my compliments to you and Dr. Wangensteen, Colonel.

This refuse collection of yours is apparently very effective.

Well, it'll do the trick for now,

but I'll be glad when we get back to the real thing.

Colonel, I'm impressed. What next?

Hamster power for the X‐ray machine?

I haven't seen one of these things since nursing school.

It's working fine.

Just don't forget to flip those jugs, Hunnicutt.

You know, I'm gonna miss Radar something terrible.

There's a lot of that goin' around.

Come on, I'll buy you a cup of genuine mess tent coffee.

Good idea. That brew will stiffen anybody's upper lip.

You know, I feel a little strange

about Radar's leaving too.

Funny, in all his time here,

I've never given him a second thought.

Granted, his departure

will create something of a vacuum,

but then again‐‐(Chuckles) so did his presence.

He reminds me of an old Raggedy Ann doll

I had as a kid.

I'd kick it, pull out its eyes,

yell at it, ignore it,

and then, when I lost it, I'd cry for days.

I know exactly how you felt.

I once had the same experience with a butler.

Boy, that guy really gets on my nerves.

‐Wow! Hot Lips! ‐(chuckling)

Well, O'Reilly,

you must be brimming with anticipation.

Back to your native "Io‐way" and your American Dream‐‐

haystacks, chawin' tobacco,

sitting around the silos,

shooting the breeze with your bovines‐‐

Land o' Goshen, that's the life.

Yeah. I haven't thought of nothin' else

ever since Colonel Potter gave me the word.

Not a very good way to be going back home,

but at least I'll be there.

And we'll be here with no electricity.

You haven't given that much thought, have you?

That's not true, sir. Me and Klinger are workin' on it.

Mostly me. I don't mean to be a tattletale or nothin',

but Klinger stinks.

Indeed.

With that dolt in charge of acquiring a generator,

we'll be powerless forever.

Perhaps, when you get back to Io‐way,

you'd think to send us some batteries.

Huh? Oh, sure.

I wouldn't let you down, sir. You'll see.

O'Reilly, your loyalty to this unit

is truly commendable.

Well, sure, sir.

That's because you guys are all swell.

You know, when you all get back home,

you're all invited to Ottumwa for a big party.

I will be counting the hours

until I hear the old dinner bell...a‐clangin'.

Hey, Radar!

There's a guy named Alvin on the phone.

About the generator!

Well, talk to him. You're the company clerk now. Come on!

Well, okay, Mr. O'Reilly.

But on your way home,

I hope you have to sit next to a sweaty fat guy

who brought his own salami.

See the kind of coping I gotta put up with?

Hey, Radar.

‐Huh? ‐Can you give me a hand here?

Yes, sir.

Oh, gee, your "hoosenwagon" broke down.

No problem. I happen to be a certified hoosenwagon repairman.

Just keep that above the level of that jar.

Yeah, I know.

Uh, sir. If you don't mind my sayin' so

that whatchamacallit looks pretty breakdownable.

They don't make these Wangensteens the way they used to.

I think that's got it.

If we don't get some power around here soon,

it's gonna be lights out for everything.

Yeah. Uh, sir, as long as your whatchamadoodle is working,

I think I'd better take a call.

Sure.

Hey, Klinger. Don't hang up!

Alvin, all I want is a lousy backup generator.

Aw, come on! I've already offered you everything,

plus a couple of things I don't got!

That's it. There's no more.

You're crazy! Where in Korea

am I gonna get a frozen custard machine?

What's a frozen custard machine?

Hey, listen. We need that generator.

It gets pretty dark around here at night, you know.

‐Uh‐oh. ‐Oh, no.

Alvin! Forget the generator.

Just send me all the jeeps and trucks you got.

Yes, that's right! You heard me.

Send them now. We got wounded.

Come on, Klinger. It's gonna get dark P. D. Q.

‐(trucks revving) ‐RADAR: Okay. Hold it right there.

That's it. Get your lights on the patients, fellas.

Jack. Jack, will you get the lead out?

This isn't a Sunday social, you know.

Come on! Let's get a little light in here. Come on.

All right, hold it. Hold it right there. Is that better, sir?

Perfecto. Radar, if they gave

the Congressional Medal of Honor for smarts,

by gum, you'd have one.

Thank you, sir. I'm just doin' my former job.

Stroke of genius. I can actually see where I'm cutting.

Well, lookee here. There's your medal.

You just might have saved this boy's life.

Looks fine. Let's start sewing. Catgut.

Radar, if you're not

a certifiable, fur‐lined, 24‐carat hero,

I'll kiss your tootsies at the commandant's picnic.

Keep it up, folks. Thanks to Corporal O'Reilly,

we're gonna make it through this night.

‐(cheering) ‐HAWKEYE: I hope so

'cause the Auto Club can't keep coming over here

to jump‐start our operating room.

What a curious turn in my medical career‐‐

from the operating theater at Boston General

to the drive‐in theater at Ouijongbu.

Clamp! Ow!

Who goes to bed

and dreams up this horror every night?

Somebody ought to tell him

to lay off the anchovy pizzas before sack time.

This is some place, our little hospital

on the banks of the River Styx.

Easy to find. Just follow Calamity Lane

to the giant parking lot.

Wounds healed while you wait. Am I ranting? I hope so.

You know, my ranting gets raves.

I brought sponges for sponging.

And now,

from the "wish I were in his shoes" department