Original subtitles

-How's that stomach, Cochran? -Not too good, sir.

Well, that's not surprising,

considering all the iron I took out of you.

Every compass in Korea was pointing to your belly button.

His fever's still up, Doctor.

101.6? You're into the F.M. dial.

Let me take a look here.

I always like to admire my artistry.

Huh, my yellow period.

Okay, take a culture and pack it open.

Increase his I.V. To 150 c.c.'s per hour,

-and start him on penicillin and streptomycin. -Yes, Doctor.

You got a little infection, but don't worry about it.

I'll give you a note to stay home from the war another two weeks.

-Uh, can I, uh-- You wanna-- -Hmm?

-Uh-- -What?

Folks, we gotta have a little staff meeting

about all these staph infections.

-Who is it this time? -Cochran.

And I've taken every precaution.

I even put a hospital corner on his bandage.

It's appalling. It's our own version of germ warfare.

Seems to me we've checked everything,

autoclave, anesthesia tubes,

suction machines, partridge in a pear tree.

Yeah, and I always wash at least one hand before I operate.

I know it's clean in here.

Everybody who comes close to these patients

has been checked out.

Well, if we eliminate, uh, post-op,

we're inescapably left with "op."

Whatever's causing the infection has to be in the O.R.

We gotta stop letting all those sick people in there.

-Pierce, save the jokes for the operating room.

Kill off every germ in the place, you know?

Hey, De Simone, what's wrong?

You should be very happy. Your leg's doing beautifully.

Only one thing would make me happy now.

What's that?

If that shrapnel-- how you say in America--

killed me dead as a doorknob.

What a terrible thing to say.

Sorry. I cannot yet speak the fluent inglese.

No, what I mean is you have everything to live for.

Soon, you'll be returning to Italia.

Warm summer nights at the Trevi Fountain in Roma.

A gondola ride in Venezia. Firenzi, Genoa, Milano, Napoli--

I know the cities.

Depression is very common for people in your situation.

You'll get over it.

My leg, I will get over, but today,

this has smashed my heart to figurines.

-What's that? -A "Dear Giovanni" letter.

-Oh, I'm so sorry. -My Angela, she left me.

She throw me up for another man. One with bigger lira.

Well, I think she made a big mistake.

I am a De Simone!

My Angela. How could she do this to me?

Believe me, you'll meet somebody else.

You're a big, strong, handsome man.

Si,but what good is it to be a Ferrari

if you are out of gas?

Ignazio, you must stop dwelling on the past.

-You have to forget about Angela. -Yeah.

Any woman would be thrilled to have you.

What is it, your name?

-Margaret. -Margarita.

Hey, Charles, why don't you get down here

where the germs can get a better shot at you?

Because I can see from here all that gunk between the cracks.

It's a veritable Shangri-la for bacteria to breed.

Yeah, their very own backseat of a car.

Look at this stuff. One good draft in here,

and before you know it, the wounds get wind of it.

You know, Charles, this floor's a lot like you.

Filled with culture and breeding that nobody can tolerate.

Your temperature's almost normal, Private.

Does that mean I'll be back on real food soon?

No. I'm afraid you'll have to eat

what comes out of the Mess Tent.

Ignazio, how are you feeling?

Now that I see you, molto bene.

Ah, how Italian of you.

Always I'll be grateful to you.

When I was, how you say, beside myself,

you come and sit down next to me, beside myself.

I'm glad I could help.

I have some good news for you.

You'll be rejoining your unit the day after tomorrow.

Ah, then that day I have an empty room in the pensioneof my life,

the one where Margarita, she used to live.

-Ignazio. -If only I do not have to go.

Oh, but you do.

But we could spend long hours together.

Walks on the moonlight,

picnics at the country, sunsets in the beach.

-This is Korea. -When you have amore,

there is no Korea.

Watch it, Ignazio. There are other people here.

You can't do that.

Capisco.

A De Simone is nothing if not discreet.

IGNAZIO:

What in the world?

Ignazio.

What-- Corpsman De Simone, what are you doing?

-Margarita-- -Get in here.

Ah, si, si, si, si.

Ah, Margarita, mi amore.

I'm not your mi amore, and you're supposed to be in post-op.

How can I be in post-op when my heart is here?

Well, your heart is off-limits, soldier.

Why for you drive me crazy like this?

You say I cannot kiss you with other peoples around, so I come here.

You drag me into your tent,

and say I cannot kiss you with no other peoples around.

You are toying with me like a cat with a dead moose.

No, you misunderstand.

I wasn't trying to encourage you.

A De Simone does not need encouragement.

You have filled the tank of my Ferrari.

No, you're just on the rebound from Angela.

Oh, she is nothing. She is a child.

But you, you--

You are a woman. My bellissima.

No, no, no! As an officer of the United States Army,

-I am ordering you to bed. -Ah!

No, no, no, your bed!

I see. You make a test to find out

how deep my love, she is for you, huh?

Get out of here.

I do not understand, but all is right.

A De Simone, he does not need to understand.

Buona notte.

Aha, all right. Well, there you have it, folks.

The special of the day, staph under glass.

Cochran's running with a bad crowd.

Gentlemen, as long as the germs have the floor,

we are engaged in an exercise of futility.

You know, I hate to put the knock on wood,

but if we just lay the same kind of floor,

we've got a new home for old germs.

-Yeah. -We need something more concrete.

Boys, I hate to throw cold sarsaparilla on your scheme,

but every time I've put in for one, it's been red-lined.

Good grief, all we're asking is for the corps of engineers to lay down a cement floor.

I've been down that road before, and believe me, it ain't paved.

-They never run out of ink for their "no" stamp. -Oh, what nonsense.

Colonel, what would you say if we make the call ourselves?

-This time it'll be our nickel. -All right.

You've got carte blanche, troops.

Believe me, nothing would thrill me more than to have you lads succeed.

But the way the engineers look at it, we're a MASH unit.

They won't give us anything we can't fold up

and carry or stuff in a duffel.

They never let us forget "M" is for mobile.

I know the "M" is for mobile, but we haven't moved in five months.

Because we like it here.

It's near shopping and transportation and wounded.

Look, look, wait a minute.

What is so difficult about a floor?

All you have to do is just come and slip it under the door.

No, no, no, don't. No, no, no, just--

Hello?

-When's it coming? -We wanna be sure somebody's home when they deliver it.

Once again, the army proves Darwin's theory

of survival of the "twittest."

You guys are going about this all wrong.

You gotta learn to think like the army.

If you want sugar, you gotta say, "Pass the salt."

We want concrete. What do we ask for, feathers?

Close. Let me demonstrate, O Outranking Ones.

Hello, Quartermaster? How are the kids and Mrs. Master?

And they say we do all the operating.

This is MASH 4077. Your buddy Klinger here.

A three-star is coming to visit next week.

Intelligence has it that the general loves barbecued pig.

Right. Got the bricks for the barbecue,

but what we don't have is the cement to mix the mortar

to hold the bricks to the barbecue to cook.

-The Genghis of Con. -We're in the presence of Sitting Bull.

A huge barbecue with a little patio around it

for the general's chaise lounge.

Thank you, Sergeant.

You're a credit to your uniform.

Your cement is in the bag.

If there's any left over, I'm erecting a monument to you.

I don't wanna cast aspersions on your dishonesty,

but when they get here and find out that

this barbecue is a concrete slab in the O.R.,

what makes you think they'll still put it in?

Who said they would in the first place?

I was talking to quartermasters, not engineers.

Engineers build. Q.C. just delivers and dumps.

Dare one inquire what that means?

You have to put the floor in yourselves.

-Us, put in cement?

We're doctors, not dentists.

The closest I get to building anything is when I make my bed.

Gentlemen, once again our trusty Arab

has led us to a mirage.

Fear not. This Arabian knight is gonna save your day.

I know everything you ever wanna know about cement.

I spent two summers working for my Uncle Amos.

He's in the birdbath business.

What did you do, hang up the little shower curtains?

No. I mixed the cement and poured the molds

which makes me a fountain of knowledge.

What do you say, Beej? You wanna take a crack at it?

What do we got to lose?

For one thing, me.

These hands work on nothing lower than an appendectomy.

Well, our loss is our gain.

Okay, Klinger, you're on. But you better know what you're doing.

Trust me, I know cement, and it's not that hard.

Let's start moving. Let's start moving.

This is your foreman.

Wait a minute, wait a minute. Who made you the foreman?

Well, I thought the selection was automatic, considering my background.

Well, you can take your background and go sit in the background.

Have it your way, boss. One quick question before I go.

What's the formula for mixing concrete?

Why don't you handle this one, Beej?

Don't look at me. Talk to the foreman.

Listen up. Listen up.

Concrete is a mixture consisting of four elements:

Cement, sand, gravel and water.

All combined in precise proportions.

Ah, Klinger, punching in the old lunch-pail crowd?

Please, Colonel, no sidewalk superintendents.

You better be quiet, Colonel. Can't you see Klinger has the floor?

Well, I've gotta doff my derby to you boys.

And the next time I put my foot down around here,

I'm looking forward to having cement under it.

You heard the colonel. You heard the colonel.

-Let's start moving some of this cement. -Yes, sir, Corporal.

-Yes, sir, Corporal. -Put the sand in the trough.

I'll check the O.R. to see if everything's ready.

Come on, Beej, we've gotta get that O.R. built

before our hernia operation.

Arrivederci, my sweet rose flower.

-Good-bye, Ignazio. -Ah--

For you.

-Ah, si. -Good-bye.

-Stop-a the jeep! -DRIVER: Hey!

Carissima.

-You cannot leave me. -I am not leaving.

You're leaving. You must go back to your unit.

My unit can wait. Wars, they come and go,

but you and I are once in a lifetime.

Please, Ignazio, you've got to go back.

I cannot. I cannot leave that hair, those eyes, those lips,

-how you say, beyond? -Behind.

That also, I cannot leave.

-Ignazio... -Oh, just say it to me, "Stay," and I'm yours.

Hey, De Simone, come on! Let's go!

Sorry, mi amore.

Ignazio, please, you're a sweet, wonderful man.

No, no, no, no, no!

Uh, but there could never be anything between us

because I've gotta stay here and I've got work to do.

And you must get back to your unit. See?

-This is such a tragedy of sadness.

-I'm sorry. -We are victims of war.

We are like two sheep that pass in the night.

MULCAHY: ♪ Cement mixer, putti putti ♪

♪ Cement mixer, putti putti ♪

♪ Cement mixer, putti putti ♪

♪ A puddle o' gooty, puddle o' vooty, puddle o' scooty ♪

-How's everything going inside, B.J.? -Slowly but "pourly."

You know, I never realized how tiring total exhaustion could be.

I'd be delighted to switch. You push the tricycle for a while.

I'll stay out here with Der Bingle.

No, no, no, you'd never get it right.

Besides, I'm the only one Klinger's trusted with his secret recipe.

Let's go! Let's go! Off your butts, sirs.

We're in the concrete business, not the goldbrick business.

-We're dead on our feet. -We're taking a coffin break.

No time, no time. The entire floor has to be poured wet.

If that isn't done fast enough to set and dry in one piece, it'll be full of cracks.

-Why didn't you say so before? -Any idiot knows that.

-He's certainly got us there. -If you want this job done right, pick up the pace.

Everyone's working to the utmost of his capabilities, Corporal.

Then everyone isn't enough.

We'll either have to get more people or less floor.

I hope you boys are having a good time playing in your sandbox.

Why, Charles, how nice of you to drop by.

-Oh, not at all. -Just when we needed help.

You stir, while I have to round up a few recruits.

-Surely you jest. You don't expect me to... -♪ Cement mixer

Charles, pick up that hoe, or I'll have you spayed.

-Now, please... -Start mixing, Charlie, or you'll be part of the floor.

-Right this way. -No, just-- See, I vowed as a youth...

that the only disgusting work I would put these hands to

would be the opening of oysters.

-It's beautiful, Klinger. -Better than that, it's flat.

Klinger, we owe you our thanks.

Congratulations indeed, Klinger.

I've always been envious of you swarthy types,

and your natural gift for demeaning labor.

If I were Klinger, I'd resent that, Mr. Clean Jeans.

Well, I am him, and I do resent it.

Yes, sir, folks, Klinger's magic elixir.

Cures any kind of infection.

One part cement, four parts sand and six parts gravel.

Oh, no, tell me you didn't say six parts gravel.

I said six parts gravel because you said six parts gravel.

I never said six parts gravel in my life, in my life.

I said four parts sand, three parts gravel.

Congratulations, ladies and gentlemen...

we have just laid 240 cubic feet of oatmeal.

Don't look at me. Talk to Mr. Cement Mixer Putti Putti here.

Klinger, is this not your crayon?

This screw-up is on your shoulders, Captain.

I mean, you made me a foreman. You let me be the foreman.

-Yeah, well, you blew it. -Klinger, how could you?

How could you make such a dumb mistake?

Why don't you use your brains for once?

-Easy. Take it easy on Klinger.

True, he is an incompetent. Now, on to new business.

The bare fact is we haven't got a floor to stand on.

Let's face it, Pierce, you, uh--your undertaking

has only served to make a bad condition worse.

If I were you, I wouldn't use the word "undertaking"

when there are shovels around.

Gentlemen, you are missing the point.

Ideally, cement is infinitely superior to wood,

but I think you will agree that wood is equally superior to the Okefenokee Swamp.

-Yes. -I see I speak for the vast majority

when I say we can have the wood floor back in an hour.

Let's do that and get a good night's sleep.

Hold it. Hold it. Hold it. Wait a minute.

I got a better idea.

Why don't we just all go out and get the old wood,

and then instead of making a floor,

let's avoid the middleman and go right to coffins.

Because as sure as we're standing here,

some kid is gonna die of an infection,

and we're just gonna have to live with it.

So, why don't we just all turn in,

and see if we can sleep on that, okay?

Pleasant dreams.

Well, we still have lots of cement.

All right, men, we've got blisters to tend to.

Band-Aids all around.

I'll keep the hot coffee coming.

-Carissima!

I've returned.

-Ignazio. -Speaking.

What are you doing here?

You're supposed to be back with your unit.

You know why I am here.

Your lips, they said, "Go away"...

but your eyes, they say, "Go AWOL."

KLINGER: No question about it.

It's the right color and the right texture.

In a few hours, we'll have a solid wall-to-wall floor.

And now if our beloved foreman

will initial his masterpiece

in the lower right-hand corner.

It will be an honor and only fitting.

Why don't you give us a nose print?

Be a great tourist attraction

here at Grauman's Hopefully Not Chinese Theater.

What are you painting, Charles?

A self-portrait entitled Man Not Working?

Well, if you must know, Pierce,

I'm making a wet cement "Caution" sign.

Hey, how come you got the easy job

when we had to bust our buns?

Very well. Klinger, how do you spell "caution"?

-C-A-W... -I rest my case.

When I have this sign finished, I'll hang one on this door.

Then I have to walk all the way around,

-and put one on the other door. -Aww.

-K-A-W? -Now you got it.

Come with me to Napoli, mi cuore.

Oh, Ignazio, please.

I give you love. I give you bambinos.

I give you happiness. I give you more bambinos.

Do you know you could be arrested for this?

Already I'm being held prisoner by my love for you.

Ignazio, look, I fixed your leg.

Now get up on it and walk back to your unit.

Why for you talk like this to me, the man you love?

I don't love you.

Ah, then there can only be one answer.

-Somewhere is another man, no? -No, that's not--

Yes, that's it. That's it. There's another man.

A De Simone is always the last to know. You love him deeply, no?

-Oh, with all my heart and soul. -Who is he, this lucky man?

-Oh, I'd rather not say. -You must!

Oh, now, fear not for his life. I carry no grouch.

I just want to know what kind of man he is

can take you from me. I must know.

I have no time for this. There's a war on.

If only you tell me, I go back to my unit with my heart at peace.

-Si.

Him, Dr. Winchester.

Him? The man with the bocce ball head?

Oh, Charles is a wonderful man.

Of course he is.

As gentleman of honor, I must go tell him the best man, he wins.

-What? No, you mustn't. -Yes, I must. I am. I'm De Simone.

Oh, no, please, Ignazio, you mustn't tell him. No, please, he'd be--

Uh, you see, he-- he doesn't know.

-He doesn't know about your love for him? -No.

-I will tell him. -No!

-Si. -Now, listen. Ignazio, please!

The man they call Winchest.

This fine woman, she loves you so big, and you not love her back.

What on earth are you talking about,

and in what language are you saying it?

-Charles, don't listen to him. -You are cold and no sensitive.

-How can you not see she love you? -Oh, I don't love him.

-That's one way. -Of course she deny it.

She has proudness. But she give the eye of her teeth to have you.

Ignazio, you're making a fool of yourself.

You're not doing too badly either, Margaret.

-You "pomposter." You gigolo! -Ignazio, let's go.

My good man, I have better things to do

than stand around listening to someone

make no sense in two languages.

Let me make myself more clearly.

If this woman, she is dishonored

if she sheds one drop of tear because of you,

our next meeting will not be so pleasant.

Well, this one has been enchanting, I assure you.

I can hardly wait for the next one.

I shall be anxiously counting the decades.

Oh, dear.

Charles, couldn't you just sign your initials like everybody else?

Yes.

That does it, Charles. I'm throwing in the trowel.

Thank you.

-Why won't you tell me where we're going? -It's a surprise.

-Got a little job for you. -Oh, yeah? What kind of job?

Well, we thought you might perform a little surgery for us.

Ah, the guest of honor. This is for you, son.

Before we have the official ribbon-cutting,

I'd like to thank you all for breaking your britches.

And I'd like to single out certain folks

for special commendation.

First, Captains Pierce and Hunnicutt

for their corking initiative in going over my head right to Corporal Klinger.

Next, Major Winchester.

Major Winchester? He didn't do a thing. He didn't lift a shovel.

Pipe down. Pipe down. This is an operating room.

As I was saying, here's to Major Winchester

for showing that a man can be neat, clean and bathed,

and still end up smelling bad.

Now you're talking, sir.

Finally, Corporal Klinger.

It's thanks to his horse-trading skills

that we got the material for one hell of a concrete floor.

I owe it all to my men, sir.

I've long suspected that one sure way

to get this ornery bunch off their back pockets

is to tell them that something can't be done.

And without knowing I was doing it,

I found I was right.

Padre?

Oh, thank you, sir.

Dear Lord, we ask you to bless this floor.

May it be used as little as possible.

-Amen. -Amen.

-Okay, this is your big moment, Cochran. -Here we go.

-Oh, look at that.

-CHARLES: Retractor, Margaret.

Come on. Hurry up.

MARGARET: Watch your mouth, loverboy, or our mutual friend

may just come back and say arrivederci to your teeth.

POTTER: Congrats, people.

A Missouri mule couldn't kick a hole in this floor.

HAWKEYE: Thanks, Colonel. More suction here.

B.J.: Uh-oh, did somebody drop something?

HAWKEYE: Yeah, I did.

Don't you just love that sound?