M*A*S*H

Wow.

‐Sir. ‐Hmm.

Captain Hunnicutt, sir?

‐Sir! ‐Hmm? Hmm?

‐Klinger? ‐Yes, sir.

Wish you'd shave your arms.

You got a phone call, sir, from the States.

Huh? Oh.

‐My wife? ‐No, sir.

Captain Pierce's father.

Pierce's father calling me?

That's what he said, sir.

Doesn't make sense.

You want me to wake you when something makes sense?

You'll sleep through the whole war.

That'd be awful.

Where's Radar?

Colonel gave him a few days in Seoul.

He was flippin' out a little.

Started to put carbon paper in the latrines.

Hawkeye?

‐Hawkeye. ‐In‐‐ In a minute.

Phone call.

Tell the warden it's too late. They pulled the switch.

It's your father.

‐My dad? ‐Yeah.

On the phone?

Yes, sir.

‐What time is it? ‐2:00.

No, there. What is it there now?

It's 18 hours earlier.

I never know. Either it's yesterday afternoon

or a week from next Tuesday.

It's, uh, 8:00 last night.

He wouldn't call unless it was important.

My father‐‐ a swarm of locusts in the bathroom

would only rate a postcard.

Come on.

‐Hmm? ‐Sir.

Hmm.

Ooh!

You sure, Klinger? Why would he want to talk to B. J.?

That's what he said, sir. Honest.

Nobody but the captain.

Okay, Sparky. We're ready.

‐It's Mr. Pierce. ‐Go ahead.

Tell him he's always been like a father to me, until now.

Hello? Hello? Mr. Pierce?

What? I can't quite‐‐

Hello? Hello?

‐Dad's not a very big talker. ‐Hello!

He only spoke to Mom if there was an "R" in the month.

Lost the connection.

Mr. Pierce? Hey, Sparky.

‐Did he say anything? ‐Anybody!

All he said was "How?" and "Why?"

Hey, world, where'd you go?

"How and why"?

Nobody. They must've knocked out the lines.

Why don't we head Swamp‐ward?

If your father wants to get through, he will.

I couldn't sleep now.

If I'm lucky, I'll get into the sack

before Frank starts pledging allegiance in his sleep.

‐Sorry, sir. ‐Yeah.

‐Klinger? ‐Sir?

Did you ever hear of Crabapple Cove?

Was that in the hygiene lecture?

Crabapple Cove, Maine.

We have a summer cottage there.

It's heaven when the buttercups are in bloom.

And the goldenrod and the tamaracks are standing tall.

You could almost swear you'd died and gone‐‐

No wonder Dad never calls me.

Hello, Dad? Dad?

Ooh. (groan)

Any word?

Nah.

I'm gonna grab a quick shower.

Come fetch me if you get through.

In the shower?

Look for a white carnation.

Hey!

Hey!

I'm, uh, Lieutenant Detmuller

of the, uh, Quartermaster Corps, Morgue Detail.

I'm here to pick up a body. Who do I see?

I believe Corporal Klinger

can assist you in this undertaking.

Not one straight man in the whole army.

Are you Corporal Klinger?

Yes, sir.

Hey!

Aren't you the guy who's trying to get out,

pretending you're a woman?

No, no.

I'm the woman trying to get in,

pretending I'm a guy.

Funny.

I'm looking for, uh, Pierce...

Benjamin Franklin.

Captain. U. S. 19905607.

In the shower.

In the shower?

What's he doin' in the shower?

Who could tell with officers?

Is this the whole tent?

And nothing but the tent.

I'm lookin' for, uh, Captain Pierce.

You got him.

You can't be Pierce.

You mean somebody pasted my face in this mirror?

Something's wrong, boy. Really wrong.

Well, no war's perfect.

You're not dead.

Don't jump to conclusions.

I have a very good tailor.

You're supposed to be dead, sir. Honest.

"Pierce, Benjamin Franklin. Captain."

‐This is a death certificate. ‐Just a copy, sir.

They send the original back to the next of kin.

Who would've been notified now by telegram.

Army's very good about that.

No wonder my father didn't ask for me.

He thinks I'm dead.

So does the army, sir.

If you're alive, I'm in big trouble.

You're in trouble?

Three days ago, a body fell out of my bus onto the road.

Last week, I came up another two bodies short.

If I blow this one,

they'll take me off morgue detail

and put me on something worse.

What could be worse?

I don't let myself think about it.

Yeah. Well, listen, Lieutenant, uh...

Detmuller. Call me Digger.

I hate to inconvenience you, Digger. I really do.

But I happen to be alive. Born that way, you know.

‐What time is it back home? ‐Oh. It's, uh...

Forget it. Never mind. I gotta make a phone call.

Sir, if I don't bring a body to the morgue,

they'll have my butt.

Better yours than mine.

This is a surgical hospital.

You must have some extra bodies.

Just one? To spare?

We try very hard to avoid that situation.

Where's the best place to look for casualties?

Try the mess tent.

Hash eaters are your best bet.

My voluntary calisthenics program

simply isn't panning out, Colonel.

Isn't panning out, eh?

I'd like permission to make it mandatory.

I've always felt people volunteer better by force.

Oh, exercise in the winter is very depressing, Major.

Although I must say the nurses' pushups

are doing wonders for morale.

‐(laughing) ‐ Sir, I'm serious.

‐So am I! ‐But, sir‐‐

Excuse me, Colonel. I waited till Major Burns was talking

so I wouldn't interrupt.

Pierce hasn't exercised once!

Hasn't done so much as a squat thrust!

I'm saving myself for marriage.

Far be it from me to tell you how to run your command, sir.

Very far be it.

But, uh, I, personally, myself think

you should order goldbricks like Pierce to get out there.

I'm sorry I've missed your early‐morning hernia farm, Frank,

but I, personally, myself have been dead.

We're all a little tired, Hawkeye.

Not dead tired, Colonel. Dead dead, as in doornail.

My corpus has been declared delicti.

There it is, folks.

My ticket to the last roundup.

My boarding pass for the Stygian Ferry.

Corporal! Boy, they are pips.

‐Sir. ‐There's been

some kind of clerical error down the line.

Captain Pierce, here, has been listed as dead.

Oh. That explains‐‐

The phone call. Yeah. They notified my father.

Get on the stick, Corporal. Get word to his father.

Dig into the paperwork.

Let's clear this up. On the double!

Yes, sir.

Sir, if it'll help, I'll take his place.

Just give me some sandwiches

and drill a few holes in the coffin.

‐Out! ‐Yes, sir.

Can you believe it?

The morgue even sent the wagon for me.

‐A little suction. ‐Suction.

It's so unlike the army to make a mistake.

You'd think they'd have the routine down pat

after the Seven Year War, the Hundred Year War,

‐the War of the Roses. ‐That's the one they fought in Pasadena?

‐Right. ‐Purse string suture.