All language subtitles for MASH.S08E20.Lend.a.Hand.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD+2.0.H.264-AJP69_track3_[eng]

The way they do
things in the army

is the stupidest thing
I ever saw.

Nothing goin' on.
They should let us go home!

-Klinger.
-As soon as it got busy,

I promise I'd be
back like that!

I'd even leave my uniform
here for security.

Am I right, Major?
Doesn't that make sense?

Curiously enough,
Corporal, yes, it does.

Not only would your empty
uniform stand up straighter,

it would be better company.

Oh, is that so?

Aah! Touché.

Once again I lie
mortally wounded,

skewered
by your rapier wit.

-Oh, don't be so high
and mighty, Chuckie.
-Ch--

We haven't heard any
conversation from you at all.

All we ever get out of you
is polysyllabic put downs.

Ah, polysyllabic
put downs.

Oh, blow it out
your bagpipes.

Now, look, folks,
we're cold and we're bored,

but there's no reason
to take it out on each other.

I remember one night
in France in WWI,

an entire company of tanks
just froze shut.

Couldn't get
the drivers out.

Had to slip 'em vittles
through the canons.

Colonel, in the first place,
I don't believe a word of it.

Secondly, I hear
the frozen tank fable

every time the temperature
dips below freezing.

And thirdly,
don't you have any
warm stories?

-ALL: Yeah.
-Oh, come on, we're
freezing here.

The point is that
it is not necessary

to keep sniping
at each other,

especially your beloved
commanding officer.

Now, let's hear
a little warmth
from you folks,

or I'm gonna get
a little hot
under the collar.

Listen, what do you say

we go someplace cold
and get warm?

Why don't we stay here

and have some stimulating
conversation?

Okay, but I'm warning you.
One or two words
and I'm over stimulated.

Oh, I'll take my chances.
What's your favorite color?

My favorite color?
Off blue.

What kind of
a question is that?

Oh, just your general
safe kind. Bye-bye.

Okay, red, hot pink, puce.

Uh, Hawkeye,
could I trouble you
to make a fist, please?

A what? A fist? Somebody
picking on you, Father?

Oh, no, no.
Just make a fist.

-Okay.
-That's the ticket.

-Uh-huh.
-Uh-huh what?

Just testing
a medical principle.

The distance around
a clenched fist

is the precise length
of a human foot.

Here, lift your foot up.
I'll show you.

Oh, dear.

No wonder you walk funny.

Excuse me, Father.

Uh, Beej, could I talk to you
for a minute, please?

-Will you excuse me?
-Terrific.

Yeah, sure.
What's the problem?

I've been getting some
very funny questions tonight

like, uh, how big is my foot?

What's my favorite color?

Two people asked me if,
uh, if I'd ever had a pet.

They're interested in you.

You have to realize
these people are very bored.

I seem to be
the object of some
kind of a conspiracy.

So naturally,
I thought of you.

-Me?
-Come on.

I'm not in the mood.
What's the joke?

Shh! W-- Just--
Sit down.

I, uh, took the liberty
of borrowing your birthday.

You what?

-Shh! Will you--
-You what?

Hawk, will you
look around?

See how depressed
these people are?

They need something to do.
A surprise birthday party

is just the thing
to cheer them up.

What are you, nuts?
It's not even close
to my birthday.

Perfect! You're not using it.
It's part of the surprise.

Borrow your own birthday.

Come on.
You're gonna love it.

I'm gonna hate it.

A whole day of letting
people slap me on the back.

Laughing at their
stupid gag gifts,

and pretending
I'm surprised?

And then, when it
really is my birthday,

-nobody'll believe me.
-I'll believe you.

You don't hear too well.
Read my lips. Drop dead.

I can't. I'm in charge
of the party.

Everything okay
with the party?

Perfect. He doesn't
suspect a thing.

Oh, great! This is
gonna be so good.

He doesn't know a thing.

Hey, hey.
Dr. Borelli is here!

Wonderful! Klinger,

go take the doctor's
bags to his quarters.

And tell the cook
to get a hot meal ready.

Not now!
After you get his bags.

Well, come on, Colonel.
Don't you want to meet him?

Uh, just waiting
for orders, Major.

Dr. Borelli, how nice
to see you again.

Oh, you're Major,
uh, Major, uh--

Houlihan.
Margaret Houlihan.

Oh, of course you are.

You haven't met
our C.O., Colonel Potter.

Colonel.

How do, Doctor.
Nice to see you.

You have no idea how welcome
a new face is around here.

Fine, fine. But can we go
inside before I freeze it off?

You want to go to
the mess tent?

Might have some
hot chocolate left.

We can do
better than that.

How about if we amble over
to the "O" Club

for a few CCs of
real antifreeze?

Wonderful idea.

Ah, the place hasn't
changed much.

Sir, I'll put this stuff out
to thaw in the VIP tent,

then I'll bring everybody
right over.

-Here's to long lives
and short wars.
-Hear, hear.

And welcome back to
the 4077th.

Ah, here's Our Gang now.
Spanky, Alfalfa, Buckwheat,

and you already met Spot.

Spanky Pierce? What,
are you working with
a new alias?

Didn't I always know you
as Hawkeye?

Hey, doc.

These are the new kids
on the block,

B.J. Hunnicutt,
Charles Winchester.

-How do.
-Hello.

Barkeep, I'll have a martini.
No, uh, scotch.

-No, uh, scotch and soda.
-Scotch and soda?

Cognac.

I'll have a cognac too--
with a beer chaser.

Give me strength.

You got a lot
of new people here.

You still got that cuckoo

who runs around dressed
like Dame May Whitty?

-At your service, sir.
-This is his tomboy look.

-What's the matter, you cold?

-Yeah.
-Why don't you move here,
closer to the stove?

-I'm fine.
-Come on. Move over.

The colonel'll move.
He won't mind.

Uh, well, you wanna--

Uh, Margaret, would you
mind shifting over one?

Who's got that scotch and soda?
I had scotch and soda.

I've got mine.
Whose is this?

Comfy-cozy, Pierce?

-Hey--
-I really think you
should open your coat.

-I'm cold!
-Sure!

You're cold because
your coat is not open and
the heat can't get to ya!

Now, come on. Open it.
There. Isn't that better?
Of course it is.

Well, Dr. Borelli, what new
medical information have you
brought us this time?

As a matter of fact, Major,
I'm here with a new technique

for treating peripheral
nerve injuries.

-How exciting.
-We're doing repairs
on severed nerves now.

Oh, this is more
than repairs, Pierce.

I'm gonna show you
a new graft technique,

replacing entire segments.

Nerve grafts sound
damned ambitious

for a bunch of
meatball surgeons.

The question is,
will we have time?

Around here,
it's first come,
first saved.

This is kind of
a body shop.

We send 'em down to Seoul
for major tune-ups.

Surely a procedure
of such delicacy

would require two,
three hours.

Gentlemen, gentlemen,
please. Trust me.

Now, I know you won't
always have time to do this,

but when you do,
won't it be nice

to have the ability to perform
the operation properly?

-Of course.

Fine! Then we'll go over it
step by step at the lecture.

You can give us all the poop

in the morning in my office
at 0800 hours.

Whoa, Colonel,
back it up.

Don't let this
soldier suit fool you.

I'm just a camouflaged
civilian, you know?

Now, for the last couple of
weeks I've been on the go.

I'd like to rest up
a little tomorrow morning.

-Okay. How about 1600 hours?
-No, you better make it 4:00.

Okay, suit yourself.

Now I've got some
paperwork to finish up.

What say we put a cork
on it for tonight?

-Good idea. We've all
got things to do.
-Aha.

Klinger, don't you,
uh, have to--

Mmm. Oh, yeah.
I'll be back.

Put the cognac
in the refrigerator
so it won't spoil.

I will kill him.
He is a dead man.

Good night, all.

You leaving?

No, I think I'll have
one for the road
I just drove in on.

Join me, Pierce.

-No, I gotta go.
-Come on. Relax.

Hey, bartender,
scotch on the rocks.
Same for the captain.

I'm drinking scotch
and soda.

Pierce, what do you
want with bubbles?

They kill the taste
and give you a hangover.

I wanted something
different.

Come on. Try this.

Go ahead. Go ahead.
Better, isn't it?

-Hold it. Hold it! Listen!
-...everybody talking at once!

Hawkeye only has
a birthday once a year.

I think we ought to do
something special.

I think the party
ought to have a theme!

A theme, yes!
How about Cro-Magnon man?

Perfect for Pierce's
Neanderthal mentality.

You know, I think
it would be fun

if we had
a masquerade party.

The brain, Father,
shrivels at the thought.

Ah, no. I think that's
kind of a good idea.

We could dress up
in civilian clothes and
come as actual people.

What about something
really crazy?

You know,
like the world's
biggest sandwich.

You know,
like 27 feet long.

What about we do
something civilized?

-Like what?
-Like sipping sherry

while musicians play
a string trio by
Franz Joseph Haydn.

Or perhaps someone with
a trained voice

could read selections from
Edna St. Vincent Millay.

-This is for Pierce?
-Oh, he'd love it,

once we got him
tied to the chair.

That's the stupidest thing
I ever heard.

I don't want to be entertained
by somebody with three names,

unless it's
Gypsy Rose Lee.

This cultural commentary
has been brought to you by
Max "Swinish" Klinger.

Come on, now.
What are we gonna do

to really surprise
Hawkeye?

Well,
if all else fails,

we could fire a bazooka
up his long johns.

Now you're talking.

I'm telling you,
a costume party
would really be fun--

Father, I refuse
to take part in this
senseless bash,

which serves only as
a reminder that Pierce
was ever born.

If we could only think of
the right theme,

I'm sure everybody would be
very excited about it.

Wait! Put away
your thinking caps.

I got it.

Imagine, if you will,
the world's biggest salami.

We don't have to imagine it,
Klinger. We're looking at it.

-A costume party.
-Something exotic.
An Arabian Night--

Oh, I'm sorry.
I've interrupted your seance.

-Ah, Pierce. Maybe you can
help settle an argument.
-Uh, yes, please.

-Uh, who do you think's gonna
win this year's World Series?
-Yeah, whom?

You're arguing baseball
in January?

Well, you hate to put
those things off
to the last minute.

Why don't you ask Borelli?
He's an expert on everything.

Uh-oh, what's the matter?

You forget to bring
an apple for the teacher?

That guy is driving me nuts.

Everybody's got to do
everything his way.

He's over there
in the Officers Club

showing the bartender
how to wash the glasses.

Captain Pierce,
let me ask you.

What's the biggest sandwich
you ever saw?

Never mind, Klinger.

That's enough baseball
talk for tonight.

Good night,
good night.

Good night.

Gee, what's everybody
talking about?

You better get
some sleep, Hawk.

Tomorrow's
gonna be a big day.

A real work of art,
huh, Major?

Veritable masterpiece, Klinger,
with one minuscule flaw.

You have wished Hawkeye
a happy birth-hday.

Huh?

"Birthday" is not
generally spelled

with a pair of H's.

Don't pick nits, Major.

It's that tiny imperfection
that makes it special.

-Fix the cake.
-It's easy for you
to be a critic.

You didn't spend three hours
facing a blank piece of cake.

Fix the cake.

I guarantee.
Nobody's gonna notice.

Hello. Oh, how's
it coming, doughboy?

Uh, tell me, what's wrong
with this, uh, cake,

Father Mulcah-hy.

-Uh, nothing at all.
-Aha!

-Especially if you like H's.
-Uh-huh.

-You gave him a hint.
-Fix the cake.

-No! I'll serve
that hunk first.
-Fix the cake!

With all due respect, Klinger,
get the "H" out of there.

Much better.

Good afternoon.
Glad to see you're all here.

Doctor, why don't you
sit in this chair?

You'll get a better view
of the charts.

-Thanks.
-That's it.

Major, I think you'd better
move your chair a little bit.

-You might be
blocking his view.
-Oh, sure.

Captain, maybe you
should sit up front

-so you could see
these better.
-Ow!

Yeah, right in the front
would be better. That's--

-Oh, my foot.

No, Colonel, you could
pull that chair up

because I've reserved
this spot for you.

-Put the chair there.
-Yes, fine.

Now, now we're
getting somewhere.

-Okay.
-Colonel! Colonel!

There's an emergency call
for you. Battalion Aid.

Colonel Potter. Yeah.

I understand.

All right,
keep him stable.

Continue with
the whole blood.

We'll get somebody
up there right away.

Okay, people.
We've got a problem.

A Battalion Aid surgeon's
been badly hurt.

-Fighting started again?
-No, his jeep hit a land mine.

The Aid man who's with him
says he's too shocky to move.

Somebody's got to
get up there, pronto.

-I'll go. I'll go.
-Fine, Pierce.
Better get crackin'.

Oh, no, no. Hawk, uh, why don't
we let Charles go instead?

He's a much better doctor.
Just ask him.

No, no. Duty calls.

Or you can go.
We don't need you here.

No, I wouldn't think of it.

I'd feel awful if I was
back here snug and safe

and my pal was up there
facing danger,

freezing his klavey
on his wedding anniversary.

-His-- His what?
-His klavey.

No, no, no. After that.

Oh. His wedding
anniversary.

-You rat.
-Oh!

Oh, that was supposed
to be our secret.

-It's not his
wedding anniversary.
-It's not.

-Ha ha.
-Give my love to Peg.

-Pierce, will you get going?
-Yeah.

-I'll go along with you.
-No, you don't have to go.

You can use the help
and the company.

I don't need the help
or the company.

What if the guy has
nerve damage?

-What if he does?
-I could show you
the new technique.

He's not gonna have
nerve damage.

Come on,
you'll get a lot
out of it.

Perfect.
Let 'em eat that cake.

-Klinger, hold that icing!
-What now?

We're not doing Hawkeye's
birthday. We're doing
B.J.'s anniversary.

You've gotta
change the cake.

I've been writing on this
cake for five hours!

I'm getting baker's cramp!

Change the cake, Klinger.
And don't botch it up!

Okay, okay. Anniversary.
How many H's don't you want?

-Hey, this is great.
-Yeah, terrific.

I'm glad we got a chance
to get out this way,

-work together.
-Yeah.

We could have been sitting
around the camp for days.

Probably driven
each other nuts.

-Yeah, right.
-Take the next right.

The next right?
It's not even on the map.

I know,
but it's more direct.

I came from the 8063rd
this way. Trust me.

I'm staying on the map.

Hand me that bag,
will you? I'm starved.

You're gonna eat
while we're driving?

Just with one hand.

I'll skip
the corn on the cob.

You got cheese, huh?

Cheese, yeah. Now what?

Well, cheese is bad
for the heart, you know.
I've seen studies.

Oh, that explains the mouse
in the Swamp the other day.

Grabbed his little chest
and just keeled over.

Huh, silly us.

We thought it was
pressure at the office.

Hey, you want
to eat the cheese?

Go ahead and eat the cheese.
What do I care?

-Thank you.
-You'll probably kill yourself

the way you're
driving anyway.

One hand on the wheel,
50 miles an hour, icy road.

You can't see anything
with those squinty little
headlights you got.

Listen. If you're gonna
eat that stuff, do it right.

-Here, dip it in here.
-What's that?

French mustard.
You'll love it.

Look, I just want
plain cheese, okay?

Trust me. It's terrific.
Come on. Try it.

I don't want--
Thank you.

Well? Huh? Huh? Well?

I can't taste the cheese.

All I can taste
is the mustard.

But it's darn good,
isn't it?

Look, let's get things
straight.

We'll go in there, and
we'll fix this guy up.

No more bickering.
We're here to do a job, okay?

Okay. Shake.

Corporal Jarvis, sir.

I talked to your colonel.

You want to get our stuff
out of the ambulance?

Boy, am I glad you got here.
Captain's getting weaker.

Chest doesn't look so hot.

Belly's bad, too.

I'll handle the anesthesia.
You do the surgery.

-Good. Get some
Pentothal in him.
-Right.

I did everything I could
to get him ready, sir.

I've kept pressure
on his wounds,

and he's had two units
of whole blood.

Okay. Thank you,
Corporal.

What are you going to handle
first? Chest or the belly?

Chest.

But he's bleeding
into the belly, you know.

He's got a collapsed lung.

I gotta get a chest tube
in him

so he can tolerate
the anesthesia.

Hey, fine, fine.
I'm only asking.

You don't have to get mad.

-I gotta scrub.
-Over there.

All right. Jarvis,
start another unit of blood.

Then wash your hands
and put on some gloves.

-Right.
-How am I supposed to keep
this thing going here?

I'll get it.

Hey, what are you
so touchy about?

I like my anesthetist
to keep his finger
on the patient's pulse

and his nose
out of my operation.

Whatever you say.

Do you always scrub
like that?

-Scrub like what?
-You know, like that.

No, I used to send my
hands out to the laundry,

but they always came back
with too much starch.

What's wrong
with how I scrub?

You're starting
with your palms.

What am I supposed
to start with, my feet?

-Doctors--
-You're supposed to start

with your fingertips
and work your way--

-Borelli, you are insane!
-No, I'm not!

Hey, hey. Now, look.

I realize you're doctors,
and I'm only a medic.

I don't know if
you've met many of us,

but we spend a lot of time
dragging guys off the line

while people are
shooting at us.

We get sort of protective
about those guys.

We worry about 'em,
and we fight for 'em

like they were our children

or-or our brothers
or something.

And that's guys
we don't even know.

Now, Captain Kramer here's
my Battalion Aid surgeon.

I've worked under him for
eight months, day and night.

He may be just another
patient to you,

but he's damn special to me.

-Understand that?
-Yeah, we understand.

We'll do the best job we can
on him, I promise you.

-Yeah, fine.
-You ready, Doctor?

Whenever you are, Doctor.

I need that tray
over here, please.

I need somebody to
tie that apron on me.

-Did you notice his face?
-Yeah, bad laceration.

And the left side of it wasn't
moving when I put him under.

Probably has nerve damage.

Forget it.
Even if he needs a graft,

he's in no condition
to stay under the anesthetic

an extra two or three hours.

I agree.

But if he does need
a graft,

I'd like to take a crack
at it back at the 4077.

I recommend leaving
the wound open. Just pack it.

No, we'll suture it.

If the paralysis persists,
we can open it again.

Leave it open.
He'll be fine.

Besides, there's less
danger of infection.

Borelli, I have this man's life
in my hands! His whole life.

His chest, his bowel, his face,
his hair, and his belly button.

And I decide the best way

to keep them all
tied together. Not you.

Let me make one thing
clear to you, Doctor.

No, let me make one thing
clear to you, Doctor.

Hey, what the hell kind
of doctors are you, anyway?

Do me a favor, will ya?

First save
Captain Kramer's life.

Then you can kill each other.

ALL: Surprise!

We really fooled you, huh?
We really fooled you!

Oh, yeah. You could have
knocked me over
with a sledgehammer.

Matter of fact,
I'd have preferred it.

See? The man is
delirious with joy.

Have some punch,
Hunnicutt,

so we can get this glorious
occasion over with.

Charles, you don't know
how right you are.

-Whee!
-Oh, ho ho ho.

-Congratulations.
-Thank you very much.

Happy anniversary, B.J.!
You old son of a gun!

And many, many more!

Oh, thank you, Father.
Thank you, all.

And here's to Hawkeye, who
couldn't be with us tonight.

But don't worry. I'll save
a little punch for him.

Hold it. We got customers.
In here, guys.

-Wounded?
-No, sir. Just cold as hell.

Their truck froze up.
They've been walking for hours.

Better get 'em over
here where it's warm.

Check 'em
for frostbite.

Gwen, Kellye,
go round up some blankets.

Let's get something warm
into these guys.

-Get your, uh, gloves off.

-Have some hot chocolate.
-Thank you.

-You people don't have it
too soft here, do you?
-Huh?

Is this a special occasion,

or is this one of your
everyday candlelit suppers?

You park it right here
for a while, Sergeant.

We'll see what we can do to
thaw out your opinion of us.

-Hemostat.
-Hemostat.

What's his pressure?

90 over 60.
He's doing fine.

-What was that?

Sponge. Sounds like
the war is back in town.

Don't worry about that.

It's a North Korean
artillery unit.

They're just firing into
the hills for practice.

-That was a lot closer.

-Well, practice makes perfect.
-Forget it. Come on. Operate.

-Hemostat.
-Hemostat.

I would definitely say
that was closer.

So what? Keep going!

Now I know why I never put in
for Battalion Aid station.

Anybody hurt?

Aah! Besides me?

What's wrong?

My wrist,
I can't move it.

We're in trouble. My arm
feels like it's broken.

-Well, let me see.
Can you--
-Ow.

-Can you move the fingers?
-Just a little.

-But it's killing me.
-Oh, great!

Now what do we do?

Let me see
the other one.

Well, you're cold.
But I don't think
there's any frostbite.

-Ah, you're fine, son.
-Here you go.

Another slug of this
will warm up your cockles.

Thanks. You people
kinda knock yourselves
out here, don't you?

Yeah, kinda.

You probably saved
our butts, Captain.

I don't know
how to thank you.

I do.
When's your birthday?

June 12.

Wrong.
It's just been promoted.

Hey, everybody. Guess what.
We got a birthday boy here.

Today's Sergeant Herbert's
birthday!

♪ Happy birthday to you

♪ Happy birthday to you

♪ Happy birthday,
Sergeant Herbert ♪

♪ Happy birthday to you

♪ For he's
a jolly good fellow ♪

♪ For he's a jolly
good fellow ♪

How's his pressure?

Fine. Good pulse too.

Attaboy. Okay,
hold the tissue together

while I get
the needle through.

-Okay.
-Good.

-Now we'll switch hands.
-Okay.

Now you take that end
and put it over mine.

-What, like this?
-No, over. Over.

-Like that.
-Uh-huh.

God, I'm used to doing this
without thinking.

I forgot how to tie a knot.

Okay. I got it.
I got it. I got it.

-Wait a minute.
-Good.

Okay, now pull it--
pull it taut while I--

-Uh--
-While I pull it down like--

-There! Okay. Okay,
we did it. Okay.
-Good! Fine.

-Now we just pull it
to snug it down good.
-Yeah. Yeah.

-Good. Over again.
-Yeah.

Pull it down.

Ha, ha! We did it.
We made a knot.

-Okay. Let's do it again.

At this rate,
we'll have him sewn up

in time for his
retirement dinner.

No, we got it.
Hold that little end.

-This goes a lot faster now.
-Okay, there.

Put it down in there.

-Uh-huh.
-Okay.

I gotta tell you. You guys
turned out to be pretty good.

-Over--
-And under.

And under. Pull it down.

-Are we great? We're great!
-Yeah, we're a team.

I should've broken
my arm an hour ago.

-An hour ago, I would
have broken it for you.

You still want to close up
that facial laceration?

How sure are you
about leaving it open?

Positive. If-If he does
need a nerve graft,

that's the best way to go.

All right. Then that's
what we'll do.

Whatever you say,
Dr. Right.

No, whatever you say,
Dr. Left.

Nice work, Doctor.
Looks like a perfect fit.

Don't put any tension
on the graft.

Gotcha.

Damn clever of the Lord
to equip each of us

with his own set
of spare parts.

Need another suture,
Margaret.

-More tantalum here.
-Yes, Doctor.

Fascinating procedure.

It looks as though Dr. Kramer
will soon be smiling again.

BJ: Why shouldn't he smile?

First person in history
to have been operated on

by a pair of
Siamese surgeons.

You're right. I think
we both deserve a hand.

All right.