M*A*S*H

Last call for coffee before it hardens.

Thank you, Jeeves.

Just pour it on a towel and apply it to my face.

How long were we in there, Radar?

Seven hours and 41 men, sir.

12 of whom I will operate on again and again in my dreams.

You think we got troubles?

Peg burned a batch of strawberry jam

and ruined the stove.

This rotten war.

My mom makes jam all the time.

She puts something special in it

so it won't burn.

Find out what she does. I'll write Peg.

Please phone. I cannot endure the suspense.

Mildred's a whiz at preserves.

She puts up a kumquat‐huckleberry combo

that is so delicious,

it makes you wish you were a slice of bread.

Maybe you could get Mrs. Potter

to send me the recipe.

Peg can use all the help she can get.

Here. Make it simple.

Have Peg write Mildred direct.

‐Ah. ‐She can write my mom too.

Now we're cookin'.

While all you Dagwoods write to Blondie,

I'm going to bed.

A little thing like Peg making contact

with Radar's mom and Potter's wife,

I'm wide awake.

Yeah. They'll get to know each other, and then,

someday, if we ever have a reunion,

they won't have to wear red carnations.

I'll wear one, though,

'cause I think Charles is gonna forget me.

Thank you. I wouldn't want to ignore the wrong person.

I can just see all of us 10 years from now sitting at a reunion.

Yeah. The war's been over for a month.

We've all got gray hair.

Charles has his in a box.

Wait a minute. Why wait 10 years?

Why not avoid the rush and have a reunion now?

I realize I'm tired,

but why do we need a reunion

if we're all sitting in the same room together?

No, no. Not us.

Our families.

We get 'em together from all over the States‐‐

Oh, this is great.

They come to New York or some place,

have this big dinner, and we could‐‐

This is terrific!

They can have pictures of all of us‐‐

you know, enlargements at every place setting.

Except for Charles. We don't want to spoil their appetite.

Ah, ha‐ha‐ha.

All we have to do is get 'em together by mail,

and then, in a month or so,

they'll all be sitting around

laughing and swappin' stories

about how much they miss us

and cryin' their eyes out.

Sounds like a wonderful evening.

What are we waiting for?

Here. Drop a line to your dad.

Do you realize what time it is?

It's a quarter to dead.

Here.

You too, Charles.

It won't be any good unless everybody does it.

Don't be absurd.

My parents have accumulated

huge amounts of wherewithal

for the express purpose of associating

exclusively with their own kind.

Good night. Oh, and shut up.

I'll work him over later. Now, how are you doin'?

Look, I don't wanna disappoint you, Beej,

but my father hasn't left Crabapple Cove in 40 years.

Most of his patients he delivered himself.

He's just too protective to leave them,

even for a couple of days.

Yo! Before you sirs go to sleep, wake up.

The Chinese have broken through the lines.

Everybody's pullin' back, and we're buggin' out of here.

No, no, no, no. I'm not goin' anywhere.

I'm gonna lie right here with a detour sign on my back.

Come on, Hawkeye. Geez, we gotta get all the wounded out.

We gotta load the equipment in the trucks and everything!

Geez. Come on, Major!

What? Where are we going?

Colonel Potter still hasn't found it on the map.

Oh. There.

Why don't they just issue us Chinese uniforms

so we can get some sleep?

Hey, Radar, when you write your mother about the jam,

tell her we're organizing this big party for all our relatives.

What's the matter with you guys?

We're buggin' out of here.

Yeah. Good. Listen.

They'll all get together in New York

and have this big dinner.

I don't believe it! The Chinese are comin'!

Then we better order more food.

Will you let your mother know?

‐I will if you'll move it! ‐Deal.

Boy. The things I gotta go through

to organize a simple party.

This one's next!

What do you think, Father?

This reunion's a great idea, isn't it?

Yes. The warmth, the mutual support.

Why, it would be just wonderful for them to get together.

Suppose you could spring your sister

from the convent for a weekend?

For this, no problem.

If you like, she could bring along her saxophone

and provide a little musical entertainment.

She really wails on "Stardust."

She's got the gig.

‐Davis. ‐I can't believe this!

The only two vein graft clamps in the unit,

and they're tossed in here like ordinary junk!

So what do you think, Margaret?

About what?

The family reunion?

Oh. Sounds fine.

Look. I want this equipment sorted carefully.

And hurry! The Chinese will be here by dawn!

You think they'll come?

Of course they will.

They just broke through the lines.

‐Your parents, to the reunion. ‐I doubt it.

You just said it was a great idea.

Captain, I'm trying to pack.

Why won't they come? They'd love it, wouldn't they?

I don't know. Maybe. I don't know.

So write 'em. See what they say.

Do you mind if I finish packing first?

‐No. No. Of course not. ‐Thank you.

Look, Captain, my folks won't go to this party.

It's not their kind of thing.

Throw me those cabbages, will you?

Phew, the green ones.

You worried they'll find out you wear women's clothes?

Are you kidding?

My uncle got out of World War II this way.

Keeps sending me pieces of his wardrobe.

What love that man has for me.

What's the problem? Your folks are warm people.

They'd love to meet our relatives.

Look. They don't speak English.

And I guarantee you nobody even there speaks Arabic,

which leaves eating and smiling at each other.

They must know someone who speaks both.

Yeah, my uncle Abdul.

So invite him along.

He can translate for the Winchesters too.

‐Well, maybe. ‐No maybe.

You're down for a yes.

Klinger, you're gonna have to come up

with 200 pounds of chipped ice, pronto.

‐Colonel‐‐ ‐200 pounds?

What am I, a glacier?

Just make sure those whole blood containers

‐are packed with it. ‐Uh, Colonel, Colonel,

I got this great idea:

a reunion, all our folks back home.

I heard. Mildred'll love it. Now get into post‐op.

Those boys have to be the first out.

‐On my way. ‐Ice. I want ice.

I'm not your waiter, but I'll see what I can do.

Be sure to keep his spine immobile.

One good bump on the road, it's bye‐bye backbone.

Maybe you can strap him to that board

and sling it like a hammock.

He'll sway, but he won't bounce.

Yeah. Good. With any luck, he'll only get carsick.

How'd we do, son?

Huh? Oh, pretty good. Just some light damage.

‐A couple of bottles of plasma broke. ‐Uh‐huh.

And some bourbon ones too.

What do you mean, light damage? Watch it!

Radar, get some more lanterns on this path.

‐We got enough broken bones. ‐Yes, sir.

Okay. Get him out of here. Take him inside.

No leg reflex. His cord may have been damaged.

You had to move him. There was no choice.

Just what he needed, a ride through the countryside for his health.

At least he's still alive.

If it weren't for you, he would have died yesterday.

Yeah. Some favor I did him.

Ah. What wonderful memories this conjures up.

When I was in premed,

I worked part‐time for a moving company.

I could pack a 30‐piece set of china in 10 minutes flat‐‐

less if they didn't mind having a 60‐piece set.

I seem to be doing a solo here.

‐You wanna help with this? ‐Huh?