Original subtitles

Yes, sir. Mildred says it's the first one on the block.

Made by the DuMont folks.

Comes in a handsome wood cabinet

with little saloon doors.

B.J.: Peg and I just love television.

We'd cuddle up and smooch while we watched.

One night we got so carried away,

we almost fell through the store window.

CHARLES: Television is just

a passing fad, a toy.

The only time I ever switched on a receiver,

I was confronted with a smiling,

singing seltzer pill named Speedy.

MARGARET: Phooey on you.

Imagine being able to see what Jack Benny really looks like.

According to Mildred, he's four inches high

with a ripple in his middle

and a little ghost that stands right next to him.

Salutations, burners of the midnight oil.

We've got a customer.

Over here, Klinger.

I'm all dressed up with no place to sew.

You're about to patch up Sergeant Michael Yee.

His buddies in pre-op say he's a bona fide decorated hero.

I read about him in Stars and Stripes.

He's seen a lot of action.

HAWKEYE: Look at all those scars.

He's a V.I.P., all right.

A very injured person.

Klinger, what the devil's

in that enormous crate in your office?

Oh, it caught the colonel's eye?

It damn near caught the colonel's toe.

I strongly recommend

you ship that receptacle out of tripping range.

-Capisce? -Ah, fret not, hostile honcho.

That crate contains boundless wonders

from the four corners of Toledo.

-Klinger, have you seen--

Great balls of fire!

Klinger!

Colonel, thank goodness you're here.

Could you give me a nail?

You wouldn't like where I'd put it.

Why does my company clerk's office

look like Polly Adler's parlor?

Sir, these are treasures of my civilian world.

My mom sent me a few things from my room.

Made you sleep in the attic, did she?

What, pray tell, is this?

Shanklish cheese, sir.

Sort of a Lebanese Limburger. Aromatic, isn't it?

Makes the whole office smell like feet.

Am I to take it the colonel is displeased with the decor?

Bull's-eye, Corporal.

Now, take these Arabian... nightmares...

and put 'em where they belong--in the minefield.

Sir, you would destroy my family's precious heirlooms?

My father's trophy.

Three times Bowler of the Year, at the height of the Depression.

My uncle Hakim was married under this lamp, twice!

And look, with my Aunt Fatima's rug,

I made a private room.

If you don't take it down,

this is going to be a private's room.

With all due respect, sir,

I think most people would find these homey touches

quite refreshing and beautiful.

Corporal, I could order you

to clear out the Harem Home Furnishings,

but let's let democracy ring.

Go corral a couple of your favorite doctors

for a second opinion.

They were so close, I could hear 'em breathing.

MARGARET: Mmm.

So I threw a grenade and took off.

Half hour later, I ran into a platoon of G.I.s

digging in for the night.

I told the second looey he had two divisions coming at him

and, if he stayed there, he was gonna be overrun.

-He must have been very grateful.

He looks me over, points his weapon at me,

and says, "Who won the World Series in '50?"

-He thought you were a spy. -Oh, you're not kidding.

I had to go through the whole story on how the Yankees

clobbered the Whiz Kids in four straight.

-How awful. -I know. I'm a Phillies fan.

I'm not up on baseball myself,

although I am partial to the Cardinals.

-Oh, Father.

Hey, what's going on here?

This man's supposed to stay off his funny bone for a week.

Pierce, I'm glad you're here.

Sergeant Yee's been asking for you all morning.

Yeah, Doc. You gotta get me out of here.

-My unit's moving up again. -What's your hurry?

We just did a major repair job on your leg.

You don't want to run off while you're still under warranty.

Come on, Doc. You gotta get me back on the line.

The only fighting you're gonna be doing

is for a window seat on the plane home.

-Home? -Yeah, you remember.

Where the buffalo roam?

Where taps are those little things

Shirley Temple wears on her shoes.

Home.

Wow, I gotta let that sink in.

Well, let it sink. You're on your way.

Sir and madam sir. There's an impromptu meeting

of the entire staff in my office.

We had a staff meeting yesterday.

Important new business. Let's go.

Well! Huh?

What do you think?

You said this was a staff meeting, not a rummage sale.

You've got everything here but a statue with a clock in its stomach.

Klinger-- looking at these treasures,

I now understand why Toledo is kept in Ohio.

These are treasures! That's a genuine Persian rug.

You rich people use 'em in your houses.

Not as walls.

Will you also be laying some paintings on the floor?

Klinger, you've outdone yourself.

There's not one thing here that belongs on a military base.

-Unless you're with a unit of fighting grandmothers.

-Of course, the cheese does have killing capabilities. -Oh, yeah.

Son, looks like all the votes are in.

Heirlooms 1, garbage 5.

Oh, I get it. I get it.

I'm over here fighting for democracy

for everybody but me.

-Aww. -You have chintz curtains.

-But-- -And you two guys have a distillery.

And you have a red velvet pillow.

And you, sir, have a saddle

-and a painting of a thumb. -Oh!

None of that stuff will vault you

into the pages of Better Homes and Gardens.

Well, this is my room.

Why can't I put up my own personal tchotchkes?

Because this is also our reception room.

Folks get their first impression from what they see here,

and I don't want 'em thinking this is a weekend retreat

for Ali Baba and the missus.

-But, Colonel-- -Thank you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury.

The defendant is found guilty

of littering and second-degree eye-slaughter.

Actually, this place does look kind of chic and Arab-y.

Thanks a lot, pals!

Now, look, son, you've had your little fling.

You've got one hour to crate up these carny prizes.

Sir, this took me all night to put 'em up.

How can I take 'em down in an hour?

Rub this.

- Uh, uh-- - Knock-knock.

You're back? Some late-breaking bon mots at my expense?

-No. -We wanted to make sure

you didn't take this too seriously.

It was all in good fun, if not in good taste.

Sure, sure.

You're not gonna stew about this, are you?

Nah. There's an old Arabic saying:

He who lives in a tent

knows that all things blow over. Right?

Yeah, yeah. Okay. Okay.

I love your place, really. Really.

There's another old Arabic saying:

When the going gets tough, the nomad gets going.

Sparky? Klinger. Don't ask.

Listen, Spark, I need some help

filling out a set of discharge papers.

I'll tell you who's getting sprung--

the only friend I got in this camp.

-Now, watch this. -Yeah.

-Did I hit one? -No, but we have a new peephole.

Watch this shot. I saw it in a rodeo once.

Wait! Wait a minute! Geez!

-All right. -Uh-huh.

-One, two... -Uh-huh.

-Three.

What in the hell? You behemoth!

Look what you've done!

You've broken the bulb in my reading lamp!

Oh, what a shame. You'll have to wait till sunup

to find out if the Little Engine could.

Captain Pierce, Colonel Potter needs you in post-op.

-What's up? -It's Sergeant Yee. Hurry!

I thought everybody was asleep, and then I heard a crash.

He broke his water glass, and by the time I got to him,

he'd already slashed his wrists.

Pretty deep too. Could be tendon damage.

Geez, he pulled out all my sutures.

He doesn't just need stitching, he needs reweaving.

Let's get him into O.R.

I don't understand.

Why would a man like that try to commit suicide?

Sherman...

T. Potter.

Sherman...

T. Potter.

Perfecto! Could fool his own mother.

Sherman T.--

B.J.: Hey, Klinger.

Captain, this is hardly the hour

to come barging into my private room

though from the impersonal furnishings,

it could belong to anybody.

Sorry. I'm not gonna get a wink of sleep

till I get Winchester a lightbulb.

We're out of lightbulbs. Good night.

Klinger, why are you sitting like that?

Oh.

-Lumbago, sir. -Hmm.

Very unusual in one so young. Maybe I should take a look.

Oh, it's gone. I'm fine.

-What are you hiding? -Oh, come on, sir.

Klinger. Haven't you learned

you'll never get away with this?

Ah, but now I'm company clerk.

I have assembled everything necessary

for the man who wants to get away from it all.

Letter from my mother,

obviously distraught at my father's imminent demise.

Here's one from the family priest,

swearing that "If Max doesn't come home immediately

the family will be penniless and on the dole."

Here's the piece de resistance from Colonel Potter himself.

"It is with a heavy heart that I give my official

"okeydokey to this lad's adios.

"Sincerely, Sherman T. Potter.

P.S. Please forgive the tear stains on this parchment."

Klinger, this is nuts.

The colonel's gonna know he didn't discharge you.

He'll have every M.P. in Korea on your tail.

-Captain, this isn't a mashed potato. -Huh?

Tomorrow I ask the colonel for a three-day pass.

By the time he realizes I'm missing,

I'll be a face in the crowd at a Mud Hens game.

You dummy! Toledo is the first place they're gonna look for you.

Sure, for Max Klinger,

but not for Sven Lundgren.

-Sven? -Shh!

Yumpin' yiminy, not so loud.

It'll never work.

You'd have to bleach your entire body.

Thanks! That'll clinch it.

You Swedish meatball.

The whole point of this thing is to get your freedom, right?

You catch on fast, oh friend of Sven.

Spending your entire life on the run

living under an assumed name, with assumed hair,

knowing that at any moment you could end up in the clink.

Does that sound like freedom?

Hmm. Maybe you're right.

What made me think one heartsore corporal

could outsmart the entire United States government?

It's a stupid plan, but you gotta admit

that is a pretty authentic "Sherman T. Potter."

Could fool his own mother.

Attaboy.

B.J.? You're not gonna fink on me.

Hey, I just came in for a lightbulb.

What a swell guy.

I'm gonna miss him.

Sherman T. Potter.

Bulb: light. Type: screw.

Wattage: 60. Quantity: one.

You are only ordering one?

That's all I need. I have no use for lightbulbs.

It's not like I have my own lamp.

I guess I could always screw one into the floor.

Klinger, whatever has become of your frivolous pet-like demeanor?

Your bulb should be here tomorrow, Major.

Thank you, Corporal.

And, uh, in all honesty, I prefer you this way.

"Pet-like demeanor."

Him I won't miss.

-Thanks for the lift, Sergeant. -My pleasure, doc.

You know, I've never met a head shrink before.

Am I okay?

I'd never get rich on you.

Well, Max. Last time I saw your face,

it was under a bonnet.

-Dr. Freedman. -You seem awfully formal.

What'd you expect? Pet-like demeanor?

Uh-huh.

I assume Sergeant Yee's in post-op.

Yeah,they're waiting for you.

-Thanks. -Sure. Go on.

Abandon me like everybody else.

Trample my feelings like they were so many dead roses.

Uh, Klinger, can you hold that thought?

You Klinger? You got something going to I-Corps?

Oh, I wasn't expecting you till this afternoon.

The lights were with me.

You got a packet or don't you? I gotta move.

Yeah. I got a packet.

Are you gonna give it to me,

or are you gonna send it by carrier pigeon?

Here, go on. The G-1 is waiting for it,

so move it out smartly.

You know, that doctor could do you a world of good, pal.

You take it from a guy that's playing with a full deck.

Three-day passes.

Three-day passes.

Most of the attempted suicides over here

are young kids going to war for the first time

but Sergeant Yee fought in Europe in World War II.

Nothing like the combat record he's got here,

but he was a competent soldier.

What do you think it is, Sidney?

I think it's time I went to the source.

-Hello, Sidney. -Hello, Margaret.

Father Mulcahy.

Hello there, doctor. Glad you're here.

Lieutenant, may I talk with your patient?

You can talk, but he's not big on answers, doctor.

I'll be over there if you need me.

-Great. -Sidney.

Hello, Sergeant. I'm Sidney Freedman.

-I'm a psychiatrist. -They tell you I was nuts?

They told me you tried to kill yourself.

It's not easy to do in a hospital.

Why did you try?

I wanted to go back and fight.

-Wouldn't you rather go home? -Goldbricks go home.

You've been badly wounded.

That hardly makes you a goldbrick, Michael.

May I call you Michael?

You call me what you want.

Michael, right now what you need most is rest.

I think I can help you. Will you let me try?

Do I have to do anything?

All you have to do is relax.

All right?

I want you to look at this.

Keep your eyes on it.

Klinger.

You interrupted, sir?

Klinger, ever since yesterday,

you've been surly to bed and surly to rise.

And with good reason, sir. You--

I'm trying to say I'm sorry for the way

we all made sport of your decor.

Talk is cheap, sir.

If the colonel really cares about my shattered feelings,

perhaps he'd authorize a three-day pass for me.

Jim-dandy idea. Glad to do it.

You are?

You betcha. That'll be just the ticket

to put the twinkle back in your twenty-twentys.

As a matter of fact, let's do 'er.

-I'll put my moniker on one right now. -Now, sir?

-You mean now? -No sense dillydallying.

Where do you stow those forms, under "W" for whoopee?

Well, what do you know? Here's one on my desk.

Good.

Sherman...

T. Potter.

-Perfecto. -Compliments of the management.

-Sir, you're too kind. -And here's a bonus for you.

You had a point about homey touches making the war

go down a little easier.

So feel free to put up any one of your gypsy doodads.

Except the cheese.

Thank you, sir. I'll pick something out later.

Well, suit yourself. Have a bang-up trip.

Yes, sir. And thank you again, sir.

Captain! Thank goodness you're still here.

Rizzo said you'd just signed out the last jeep.

Yep, I got a free afternoon,

so thought I'd go drown a couple of worms.

-You gotta let me have that jeep. -Why?

You know those forged discharge papers

-I didn't send to I-Corps? -Yeah?

They're halfway to I-Corps. If the G-1 reads them,

I'll be enrolled in Officers Convict School.

You said you weren't gonna go through with it, Sven.

-And you believed me? -Whatever.

I'm not providing you with a getaway jeep.

I don't want to get away. I want to stay.

-Then stay. -Are you kidding?

If I stay, I'll be arrested for forgery.

Then you are going?

Going? How could you even suggest a thing like that?

After he put his arm around me?

Told me to pick out my very own doodads?

Signed his moniker? Told me to have a bang-up trip

with those big blue eyes?

Okay. Okay. A man can resist only so much gibberish.

-Take the jeep. -Oh, thank you! Thank you!

You're a gentleman and an officer.

Eight. More and more alert now.

Nine, 10. Eyes open.

-How do you feel? -Okay.

I guess I took a little nap.

Do you remember anything?

About what?

-Lieutenant. -Yes, Doctor?

Well, Michael, I don't think we need these anymore.

I think we're about done for now.

I'll be back to see you later.

Try to get some rest.

Oh, I was hoping to get up a game of stickball.

It's time for your pill.

You just gave me one five minutes ago.

What?

You gave me a pill when the doc came over.

That was two hours ago.

Sidney.

Are you sure taking off those restraints is a good idea?

I wanted to show him I trust him.

Yeah, but can we take the chance?

He's being held together

by 3-0 silk and wishful thinking.

If he tries to kill himself again, he's halfway there.

-He's out of danger. -What are you talking about?

He's twitching like a nervous wreck.

Listen, let's go in there for a minute.

It's a matter of deep-seated guilt.

In all his 10 years in the service

this is the first time he's ever fought an Asian enemy.

He's been looking through a gunsight at people

who could be members of his own family.

No wonder he felt guilty.

It would be like my declaring war on Crabapple Cove.

Exactly. Only in his case it's worse.

He has to kill Chinese to be a good American.

Then he has to kill himself to be a good Chinese.

A man without two countries.

Freud would have flipped over this one.

All I did was give him a substitute symptom.

I told him under hypnosis that when he feels the guilt,

instead of punishing himself with suicide,

he should twitch his hand.

He's not even aware he's doing it.

Better to twitch your hand than take a second try at killing yourself.

Second try? Remember all those dangerous missions?

He's been trying to kill himself since he got to Korea.

Hey, soldier! You can't go in there!

What's going on, Sergeant?

Please excuse my apparent effrontery, sir,

but I've driven all the way from the 4077th MASH

on a matter of great importance.

I see. Very well. I'll take care of this, Sergeant.

Thank you, Sergeant. That'll be all.

All right, Corporal. What's this all about?

Sir, did you receive some discharge papers

for one Corporal Maxwell Q. Klinger?

I certainly did. I just went through them.

A tragic case.

My heart goes out to that man

and what's left of his family.

I will not rest until that boy's home where he's needed.

Oh, no, sir, You can't do that.

Why? Everything's in order.

Because! Because...

the whole thing is a bogus tissue of lies.

-What? -I have it on the best of authority

that those documents are forged.

That's not possible! There's a letter here from a priest.

-Blasphemous! -It's even got

Sherm Potter's official okeydokey.

Granted, it's a masterful forgery, sir.

No doubt this Klinger character is brilliant but twisted.

Perhaps you're familiar with his checkered history?

He used to wear dresses.

Oh, that nut.

He once sent me bonbons.

It comes as no surprise to me, sir. He'll stop at nothing.

Thank you for your information, Corporal--

uh, Corporal, um...

O'Reilly, sir. Walter O'Reilly.

Funny. You don't look Irish.

Black Irish, sir. Remember the Spanish Armada?

I know you. You're Radar.

We've spoken on the phone.

Oh, golly-whiz, yes. A million times, Your Colonelness.

Well, you can tell Sherm Potter

that I'm putting this Klinger yoyo up

on immediate disciplinary action.

Oh, that's really swell, sir,

but couldn't you just let Colonel Potter have him?

I mean, he is so P .U.'d at Klinger,

he's ready to convene a firing squad.

Well, I can understand that.

Since he's had to put up with all of Klinger's bull,

I think it's only fair to let old Sherm have his hide.

Here you are, Corporal.

Oh, thank you, Your Coloneldom.

This will put a smile on the old man's heart.

Sergeant!

The colonel will see you now.

Last call for the 4077 express.

Pullman service to Seoul, Tokyo,

and all points civilized.

We're happy to announce there is no dining car.

I hope I didn't cause you guys too much trouble.

I think we should be saying that to you.

Ready, Michael?

You coming with me, doc?

No, but I'll get over to visit you as often as I can.

I sure hope so.

Take care of yourself, Sergeant.

-You did good, doc.

Oh, just meatball psychiatry.

There's still a lot more work to do.

He almost killed himself,

and we never suspected a thing.

I think our job may be a little easier than yours, Sidney.

At least we can always see where they're bleeding.

Ah, I see the colonel is basking in the glow of my swag lamp.

Ornamental yet functional.

Brilliantly illuminates every word on this page.

What words are those, sir?

Same words over and over.

"Sherman T. Potter, Sherman T. Potter." Ad infinito.

Any idea who the signatory is?

-Why, uh, you are, sir. -Me?

Now, why the devil would I scribble my John Hancock 47 times?

Ah, you were sleepwalking, sir.

I didn't want to wake you. I thought it might be dangerous.

Probably would have been.

Thanks for clearing that up for me, Corporal.

By the way, you put too much swoop on the "T."