M*A*S*H

"Dear Ma, this is your boy here again.

"Still fine with the U. S. Army, in South Korea,

"and hoping you are the same.

"As usual, I am writing real slow,

"'cause I know you can't read fast.

"Your package and letter arrived this morning.

"The cake and cookies and the underwear

"were all delicious.

"I was sorry to hear Uncle Ed went off the wagon

"on his hunting trip.

"I sure hope he'll be able to play the pump organ

"without those toes.

"I apologize for not answering sooner before, ma.

"It's just I do a heck of a lot of writing in my job here.

"I got about the smallest pencil in the camp.

"Take, like, last week.

"Top of all my other duties,

"which I got too many already,

"I had to help Captain Pierce give everybody

a monthly foot inspection."

Terrific‐looking toes, Colonel.

Thank you, Pierce.

Have you ever thought of studying piano?

N‐not there, Pierce!

Should I write down "ticklish", Captain?

No, no, merely indicates the patient is highly oversexed.

Right, Colonel?

How do they look, Pierce?

Colonel, you have the feet of a teenager.

Now we know why Mrs. Potter's smiling in her picture.

Learned about foot care in World War I.

From Captain Harry S. Truman, no less.

He had a great pair of feet.

Imprints of which may be seen on General MacArthur's backside.

Colonel gets 100 percent, Radar.

Oh, good. That's very good, sir.

100 percent.

Well, good feet run in my family,

except for my Uncle Ben.

He had two extra toes.

Used to have to make little leather sidecars for his shoes.

Thank you, Colonel. Come along, Robin.

"Colonel Potter, who I was really worried would I like,

"I really do.

"He's okay and a good egg.

"I think he's how Pop would've been,

"if he hadn't died when I was little.

"I never told you, but it used to make me mad

"that Pop died.

"Until I finally realized dying wasn't his idea.

"Another one of my jobs is helping patients

"go to other hospitals or back to their units,

"after we finish with their surgery and stuff.

"Corporal Klinger was helping evac the other night.

"You'd like Klinger, Ma.

He looks a little bit like Aunt Jean before electrolysis."

Asher, Harold. Private.

Asher, Private. Right.

Have a good ride.

We don't wanna see you back here again.

So keep down low.

How goes the psycho business, Klinger?

I wrote General Ridgeway, I love him,

and asked him to be my husband.

You mad thing.

His aide wrote back,

"The general's happily married."

‐Maybe they'll have a fight. ‐Yeah.

MAN (on P. A.): Attention.

Attention, post‐op personnel.

The evac bus is loading and ready to go.

All aboard, whoever's leaving.

Hey, Doc. Sergeant Callan.

You know, you took the shrapnel out of my chest.

Ah, I've got it pressed in my memory book.

You got a second, Doc?

You feel all right?

I feel fine.

It's the wife, Doc.

She's not so hot.

She's gotta have an operation.

You know, woman stuff.

I studied woman stuff, one and two.

My problem is loot.

I don't have enough for the operation,

and she's gotta have it right away.

‐Uh‐huh. ‐I wonder if you could help me, Doc.

I'll be glad to operate on her free,

if they'll let me fly home.

If I could just get her some cash.

I never lend my patients money.

Reduced life spans.

This watch cost me $150 at the Tokyo P. X.

Give me what you want for it.

I got a watch.

‐Thirty dollars, and it's yours. ‐(door closing)

All full up! Ready to roll!

‐Look, Sergeant. ‐Self‐winding, tells you the date.

‐Twenty dollars. ‐S‐Sergeant‐‐

‐It's a $150 watch. ‐Look‐‐

Look, I wouldn't do this if it weren't for my wife's plumbing.

Take it. Fifteen.

Take it.

Here, is, uh, 20 bucks. All I got.

God bless, you, sir. God bless you.

You're welcome, Sergeant.

Good evening, sir.

I'm with the Department of Water and Power.

‐I'm here to read your feet. ‐Uh‐huh.

If you'll just, uh, step into my, uh, crate.

What's that, a new watch?

Yeah, got it off a patient. Twenty bucks.

Goes for 150.

The patient had to send the money home, right?

How'd you know?

His kid outgrew his tonsils and needs a set of new ones?

The cat needs a "whiskerectomy?"

I got taken?

We gotta do something about that

apple pie and hot dog face.

No works. It's empty!

See, what you got there is either a pill box with hands,

or a lunch pail for munchkins.

‐I feel like an idiot. ‐Go with the feeling.

And I operated on that guy's chest!

See, what we'll do,

is we'll get the guy and we'll put the shrapnel back in.

You're a lot of help.

You ready, sir?

That's a loaded question, Radar.

Uh, it's past time to go check Major Houlihan's feet.

Ah, yes, the major's clustered tootsies.

You think she'll believe it that a kiss on the instep

improves circulation?

I believed this was a watch.

‐I'll do you at 9:00. ‐How will I know?

‐Lead on, MacDuff. ‐Who?

You better be prepared to explain that.

Wanna buy a watch?

Major Houlihan's tent.

Ah, if this canvas could only talk.

‐Major. ‐MARGARET: Who is it?

Time to have your feet Pierced.

Later.

Sorry, Major, there's no later.

The future's been cancelled by the war department.

They're just gonna replay the past.

She's not alone.

Give me two guesses.

Senator McCarthy? Martin Bormann?

‐Major Burns. ‐I was right.

Come in.

‐Hello, Frank. ‐I was just leaving!

‐That's gonna be difficult, isn't it? ‐Huh?

‐You tied your boot to the table. ‐Oh, sure.

You were supposed to inspect my feet this morning!

Sorry, there was a parade on 5th Avenue.

The Sons and Daughters of Mickey Rooney.

Stick around, Frank. I'll do you after Margaret.

I wouldn't let you touch my feet with a ten‐foot pole!

Radar, cancel the ten‐foot pole.

"Stretch" Pulaski, tallest Pole you ever saw.

Thanks for letting me come by

only to pick up the manual, Major.

The manual.

You kids still using the manual?

I would think you could throw away the book by now.

Oh, watch your mouth in front of the help.

Can we get on with it?

Take it easy, Major.

Your feet aren't going anywhere without you.

Ready, Radar?

Uh, ready, sir.

Now, then, madame, what did you have in mind?

A pump, a sandal, a back‐to‐school shoe?

Doctor, I have a dozen specimens

waiting for me in the lab.

You were smart to call ahead.

Report on Houlihan, Margaret, Major.

By Pierce, B. F., Captain.

I'm getting a little crazy, backwards, talking.

Isn't that a pretty foot, Corporal?

I wouldn't know, sir. I'm not a doctor.

However, a wee bit of fungus,

two bunions, one corn,

light on the mayo, hold the chili and onions.

Ankle's a bit swollen. You retaining water?

My water is none of your affair.

Radar, get me some potassium permanganate

for the major's feet.

I'll spread it on for you. It's more fungus that way.

‐Don't you wish. ‐Mm‐hmm.

Uh, well, sir, I'll meet you at the next feet.

No, no, Radar, stay.

The law requires that a third person be present

when I'm examining feet of the female sex.

Violation could result in my death by hangnail.

Oh, take your pan and get out!

Bossy boots.

"It's later now than it was before, Ma,