M*A*S*H

MAN (on P. A.): Attention, all personnel.

Incoming wounded in the compound.

First surgical team, report to the bus.

First surgical team.

Let's go! Let's go!

Gangway. Hot stuff comin' through!

Dennis, give us a hand.

And keep track of the blankets.

‐Margaret. ‐Yes.

Prep him, and hang another unit of plasma.

‐Yes, doctor. ‐Same here, Major.

I want chest X‐rays on this one.

These two in pre‐op right away.

Kellye, gimme a hand.

Who lost a rabbit's foot?

Looks like they all did.

Why don't you finish triage?

‐I'm gonna go scrub up. ‐Right.

Think you'd better start with that one there first, okay?

‐Okay. ‐All right, you can walk.

Come here. Watch it. Watch it.

Stand up easy.

‐Klinger! ‐Sir?

Get him into X‐ray. Watch your head.

Tell Major Burns he's invited to surgery.

Captain, what's‐what's your name, please?

Sir?

All right.

Well, come on. Snap it up!

‐Sorry, sir. ‐I haven't got all day.

Doing a little moonlighting, Frank?

He's got another malpractice on the side.

‐Big load come in? ‐Three waiting, Father.

I'll get into some gear.

Don't stand next to Frank, Father.

He'll cut right through your beads.

You're as funny as a crutch.

‐Sir? ‐How many times have I told you to knock?

Sir, look at this.

‐Picking an easy one, Frank? ‐Ha ha.

That the captain who was on the bus?

‐Yeah. ‐Terrific.

You really made my day, Radar.

Better look sharp, Father.

We got a friend of yours in surgery.

Huh?

Well, what'd he mean by that, Radar?

Father, we got a guy that says he's Jesus Christ.

Some people just don't belong in combat.

I'm trying to love it, Frank. Honest, I am.

Well, what about the fellow's dog tags?

He didn't have any.

I asked him what his name was,

and he said... "I'm Jesus Christ."

Just like that. Not even Captain Christ.

My word.

You know what really irks me about this war, Beej?

No idea.

The lack of genuine spontaneity.

Every day it's the same old grind.

You wake up, brush your teeth,

walk the dog, operate on the Lord.

Oh, that's downright blasphemous!

That's from a man who polishes his socks for inspection.

Pay him no mind, Major.

He envies you your sanity.

True, Frank. Next to your lisp,

that's what I envy most about you.

Boy, you really are a sicko, mental.

Just 'cause I spend most of my waking hours

fixing up small wounds so they can go back

and get bigger and better wounds,

you think I'm mental?

Ausgespielt? Bughouse? Tetched?

Milky in the filbert?

Of course I am.

Wouldn't you be,

Lieutenant Nightingale?

It goes against my training to say

"Take two aspirin and go get yourself killed."

What would Hippocrates say? What would Socrates say?

And what would you say if I asked you

if you wanted to go into the linen closet

for several minutes of heavy breathing?

Are you gonna knock it off?

That's what I'm trying to find out, Frank.

Disgusting!

Oh, Lord.

Sorry, I wasn't talking to you.

‐Lieutenant. ‐Doctor.

‐She's crazy about me. ‐She hides it well.

‐We don't want anybody to know. ‐Good work.

What is it you find so fascinating

about ladies in olive drab?

Mother was frightened by a recruiting poster.

What are you up to, you swarthy minx?

‐Bedpan duty. ‐Good training.

After the war, you can open your own pay toilet.

Keep it up, doc.

With my luck, you'll get my Section 8.

Good morning, sir.

How you doin'?

Fine. How are you?

‐Uh, fine. ‐Oh, we're fine.

We're doctors.

Uh, apparently, you, uh, you lost your dog tags,

so, uh, we have to get some information

from you for our records.

You know the army, the old green machine.

Yeah, we need your, uh, rank, your serial number,

‐your, uh, unit. ‐Your name.

Yeah, that'd be a good place to start.

‐My name. ‐Mm‐hmm.

My name is Jesus Christ.

Oh, that's funny.

We have a savior by that name.

A little witticism that was just condemned to purgatory.

Uh, no foolin'. We need a name.

Of course.

Jesus Christ.

J‐E‐S‐U...

‐We've got that. ‐Uh, yeah, yeah.

That much we know, yeah.

Um...

your head wound is very superficial.

It's‐it's‐it's hardly more than a scratch.

Now, if you wanna have a go at bugging out

of the army, that's fine.

I just think you should use a fresher approach.

What can I do to convince you?

A miracle would definitely be a step in the right direction.

Maybe a few steps‐‐ say, upon the water.

Doctors.

Padre.

You two oughtta get acquainted.

Better acquainted, he means.

Uh, Father Mulcahy, Jesus Christ.

‐Hello, my son. ‐Hello, Father.

Well...

here we are.

Just what do you intend doing about it,

Colonel Potter? It's an outrage.

Something has to be done

about this person calling himself Christ!

Why?

Why?

Did you say "Why?"

It wasn't him. It must've been me.

Oh, come off it, Major. Who's this fella hurting?

He should be court‐martialed for cowardice!

‐And blasphemy! ‐And blasphemy!

‐And cowardice. ‐And cowardice.

The effrontery of the man!

A mere captain claiming to be...Him.

But I don't see how that pertains.

If a man says he's Christ,

he might just become a better Christian.

I mean, if I had a horse

who was convinced he was Man O' War...

I don't know that I'd want to set him straight,

if you get my drift.

Colonel,

we're speaking of our Savior.

‐We want to be sure‐‐ ‐That certain parties‐‐

Don't help that yellow‐backed hoodwink the U. S. Army,

in which I, for one, so proudly serve!

We so.

You're referring to...

‐Pierce and Hunnicutt. ‐Is who he's referring to.

Oh, you've hated them

since they stuck a turtle in your shorts.

Well, this has nothing to do with that.

What is it you think they're planning to do?

‐Oh‐‐ ‐Well, who knows?

All these bleeding‐heart liberals are the same!

Let a man claim to be an underdog,

and they will do anything they can for him.

You regard Jesus Christ as an underdog?

Well, he didn't exactly run roughshod over the Greeks.

‐Romans. ‐Or them, either.

I'm telling you, those two hotshots

will do anything they can to give the red, white, and blue a black eye.

Horse hockey. Pardon my French.

As long as I'm in charge around here,

which will be another 17 months, two weeks, six days,

there will be no shenanigans.

I do not approve of carrying tales.

Evidence is one thing. Innuendo is another!

If evidence is what you want, Colonel,

evidence is what you'll get.

Are you with me, Major?

‐Right up to the hilt. ‐Sir.

Creeps.

Well, I'm sure glad you could make it

on such short notice, sir.

We certainly are.

You call this short?

I've been outside the camp for over an hour

waiting for the cloak of darkness.

Gee. Just like The Shadow.