M*A*S*H

Off with the white clothes.

On with the green clothes.

I always feel very patriotic

when I come out of O. R.

My whites are covered with red,

and it gives me the blues.

Well, at least you boys are free

to relax before dinner.

Tomorrow's the first.

I want to get a leg up on the monthly medical reports.

So, "paysanos," until chow, ciao.

April's over. Where did it go?

See how time flies when you're having a good holocaust?

My wedding anniversary is May 23.

This may sound weird to you,

but Peg and I have sort of made it a custom

to be together on that day.

Well, look at the bright side. At least you have me.

You'll have to shave.

I need some help.

This man just walked in here carrying the boy.

I am Key Yong Lu. Could you help my grandson?

‐We'll take a look. ‐What happened?

Enemy shell come. Soon Chi fall in ditch.

‐Looks like a fracture. ‐Better get some X‐rays.

I'll take care of it. Lieutenant,

get him into X‐ray. I'll meet you there.

‐Yes, doctor. ‐You live nearby?

No. Up north.

Enemy destroy our village. We come south.

I guess the military's strategy

is to get rid of the kids and the old people first,

then the rest of the war will be easy.

Off with the green clothes.

On with the white clothes.

I'd love to do something special for B. J., but what?

I don't know. I never had a wedding anniversary.

Well, don't look at me.

If we all put our heads together,

we ought to be able to come up with something.

But what's the point? Dreams of a banquet

only make a starving man all the more hungry and miserable.

‐Evening, folks. ‐Hi, Colonel.

Charles has this wonderful way of getting to the heart of a matter

and then sticking a knife in it.

What's the debate all about?

B.J.'s wedding anniversary is coming up,

and everybody who's anybody

is trying to figure out a way to make it bearable for him.

Do you have any suggestions, Colonel?

No brainstorms right off, but there's time yet.

‐Don't forget, it's gotta be a surprise. ‐First things first.

We got I‐Corps business to attend to.

A combat unit's been deployed near us.

We need an M.D. to give them their sanitation inspection.

Not my turn. I went last time.

I know that, Pierce.

I keep track of these things.

Hunnicutt went before you,

and you went the time before Hunnicutt.

It seems there's one name conspicuously missing from the list.

Every time it pops to the top,

that fellow comes down with some mysterious malady.

The Winchester version of yellow fever.

Major, Doc Potter's got

just the prescription for what ails you:

a nice day in the country.

‐Doctor, he will be all right? ‐He'll be just fine.

But this leg is gonna keep him here a few days.

Thank you very much.

I am forever grateful.

I'm sorry,

but you can't stay here.

I cannot leave him.

His mother has been killed by enemy soldier.

His father is fighting in army, if he still lives.

He's the boy's next of kin. Let him stay next to his kin.

‐Fine, doctor. ‐(Soon Chi groans)

‐What was his blood pressure? ‐110 over 70, Doctor.

What's he saying?

He asked for his, uh, mouth music?

‐Mouth‐‐a harmonica? ‐Yes, yes. Harmonica.

I don't think anyone would object to a little mouth music.

When he awake, I must tell him it was lost when attack came.

‐Aw. ‐A gift from G.I.

Only thing he can carry from village to village.

That's tough.

You'd better get some sleep.

You've made your floor, now you oughta lie on it.

Oh, thank you.

The morning air is crisp and still.

In mere moments, I embark upon a military mission

which may mark my final hours on this planet.

Therefore, I leave you with these few parting thoughts.

To my dear father, I grant you power of attorney

for the disposition of all my real estate.

To my devoted mother, I bestow upon you my proxy

with the single proviso that it never be used

to vote for Cousin Alfred.

To my gentle sister Honoria,

I bequeath my butterfly collection.

I know you probably don't want it,

but Cousin Alfred does.

Farewell, Cape Cod.

Farewell, Harvard Yard.

Farewell, baked scrod.

‐Bravo! Bravo! ‐Yay!

‐Anthropoid boors. ‐What a touching farewell to Cod, Yard and scrod.

Gentlemen, I don't much care for you, either,

but if you were about to meet your Maker

I could find it in my heart

‐to leave you alone. ‐(yelps)

Charles, it's only a routine inspection tour.

Pork Chop Hill's already been taken!

Ah, and one more thing, Mumsie dearest:

If I don't come back alive,

I would like to be cremated and have my ashes

scattered over Robert Taft.

Colonel, any word from Charles?

I'm already an hour into his shift.

Nope. I guess his inspection went into overtime.

‐How's our little Korean guest doing? ‐Physically, fine,

but his spirits could sure use a shot in the arm with a harmonica.

Klinger, that should be right up your alley.

Gee, I don't know. From what I hear,

that's a pretty hot ticket.

Is this the Sultan of Scrounge I hear talking?

You've got a tongue that could fertilize 40 acres.

Of course I do. That kid'll be playing that harmonica

before you can whistle "Desert Song."

‐Well, if it isn't the Inspector Major. ‐(grumbles)

Here. This is what I risked my life for.

We didn't know if you were late, Charles, or the late Charles.

We thought you'd been shot

and were trying to figure out which side did it.

Hunnicutt, go hurt yourself.

My, my, Major. This is quite a report.

I've been to barbecues where the heifer of honor

wasn't raked over the coals as bad as this unit.

These people would've been right at home at a barbecue. They were pigs.

In case you haven't heard, there's a war on.

Nobody's living in the lap of luxury.

Even a man of your personal habits would've been appalled.

The proximity of the mess area to the latrine was scandalous.

The garbage facilities seemed to be anywhere they feel like it.

They live by the credo "Uncleanliness is next to everything."

You left camp

toting an awful big chip on your shoulder.

You sure you ain't exaggerating just a mite?

Absolutely not.

I made that perfectly clear to the commanding officer,

Major... Finch.

If you will excuse me, I've had a perfectly revolting day.

I'm gonna go back to my quarters,

get out of these grubby clothes and relax.

Sorry, Charles. You're on duty in post‐op.

Is there no just‐‐ Hunnicutt, dear friend,

do you think you could find it in your heart to take my shift for me?

‐Oh, you know, I have something very important to do. ‐Oh, yeah? What?

Go back to my quarters, get out of these grubby clothes and relax.

Of course, we'd dance. We've always done that.

On our last anniversary, Peg was eight months pregnant.

Made for some very interesting steps and very little jitterbugging.

I guess that's why it's so tough to miss out on this one.

‐Our first anniversary with Erin. ‐Yeah, that is tough.

‐It's the little things I miss most, you know. ‐Like what?

Watching Peg give Erin a bath.

Seeing her blow the bubbles off her little hand.

‐Why are you asking me this stuff, anyway? ‐I'm interested.

I've never had an anniversary.

Come to think of it, I've never had a bath.

So come on. What else would you do?

Where would you eat?

Oh, I don't know.

Little place in Sausalito, maybe.

Better still, a candlelight dinner at home.

Wonderful. A post‐op pajama party.

‐Major Winchester. ‐Yes? What is it?

Major Finch. Well, it's comforting to know

they're still enforcing the 15‐drink limit at the Officers Club.

Well, after that inspection you gave us,

I‐‐ I was feelin' pretty rotten.

‐I guess I had a few. ‐Well, you needn't guess.

There's no doubt about it.

Well, then I got to thinking that I could come over here

and get you to reconsider.

I don't think that that rating was fair.

Well, you're absolutely right, but what can I do?

There's no number lower than zero.

Doc, I really got on their butts,

and my men are gonna fix up most of that stuff the way you wanted it.

Splendid. I'm sure whoever succeeds you as commanding officer

will be favored with a much higher rating.

Oh, come on, Major. It wasn't that bad.

Well, perhaps not to a man who looks at the world

through rose‐colored eyeballs.

Look. Why don't you just stagger on back to your compost

where you are indeed top of the heap?

So that's it, huh?

You're gonna be real gung ho about this?