All language subtitles for MASH.S09E08.Tell.It.to.the.Marines.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD+2.0.H.264-AJP69_track3_[eng]

File this under "done."

Oh!

I'm gonna go back
to the Swamp

and hang tags
on my eyelids

that say "Do not open
until Christmas."

I'm gonna stay right here

and sleep for three
straight days.

Then I'll feel strong enough
to get up and pass out.

Next time I operate,
I want to be assisted
by Dr. Scholl.

My, my! Down on
your luck, fellow?

Well, you stay
right where you are.

One of the sisters
will be by momentarily

with a blanket
and some hot soup.

Please don't talk
in my sleep.

Or in my wake,
for that matter.

You saying
you're not tired?

Of course I am.
But I treat myself

far better than you
Bowery denizens.

My body's a temple.

Yours are a mortuary.

Watch it, Major.

The last time somebody
spouted off that much,

he got a harpoon
in his starboard.

Sorry
to disturb you, sir.

Word just came in,
the fighting shifted.

So your meeting of the 38th
Parallel Medical Society

that was postponed
until next week

has been unpostponed
till tomorrow.

Always glad to get together
with my colleagues

to discuss the latest
advances in medicine.

Don't forget to pack
a couple of bottles

of my finest Kentucky
sippin' medicine.

Right, sir,
and am I then to assume
that I will once again

forward all your commander's
correspondence

to Chief Surgeon Pierce?

Oh, spare us! Not Pierce.
Not that derelict.

No, no, no,
no, no, no, no.

In the immortal words
of the Duke of Windsor,

I abdicate my office
for the pillow I love.

Since you're so worried
about this derelict

being derelict
in his duties,

the job is yours,
temple body.

Me? What's wrong
with Pierce?

Sir, it is a rare moment
that I get down on my knees

without holding
a pair of dice,

but Major Winchester
thinks the chain of command

is for beating enlisted men.

You know
what they say, Klinger:

it's loony at the top.

The job is yours,
Winchester.

I am officially appointing
you topkick pro tem.

Very well, sir.
Since you insist

on thrusting the
mantle of leadership
on my shoulders,

I graciously accept
your challenge.

I shan't
let you down, sir.

I know you shan't, lad.

'Cause I don't expect
nothin' of ya.

I'm sorry, Jost.

There doesn't seem to be
anything in here

that applies
to your situation.

You just rest, Private.

Captain Pierce,
do you have a moment?

Certainly. You don't mind if
I check into Bedside Manor?

Captain, Private Van Liter
has a serious problem.

Tell Dr. Pierce what you
were just telling us.

-Well, you see--
-This is his second
Purple Heart,

and he's got two Bronze Stars
as his company's point man.

-But--
-But before Jost
is discharged

and gets back home,

his mother will be deported,
and he won't get to see her.

Wait a minute.
Wait a minute.

Servicemen are welcome
in this conversation.

Thank you.
I come from Holland.

Two years ago, my mother
married an American,

and we moved to
the United States.

Right after that
I joined the marines

because I wanted to
serve my new country.

Now his mother's
just gotten a divorce,

and because she's not married
to an American anymore,

they're deporting her.

Oh, wonderful.
She comes to America

and gets run over
by the welcome wagon.

Well, so what--
what can we do?

Hawkeye,
you don't understand.

He's due to be discharged
in three weeks.

All he wants
is to leave a week early

so he can see his mother

before she's sent
back to Holland.

Did you talk to your
C.O. About this?

Yes. He told me to
talk to the Red Cross.

-And?
-Well, I told them my story,

and they told me
to tell it to my C.O.

Yeah, I see.
The old one-two.

A right cross
from the Red Cross

and Montezuma's revenge
from the marines.

Klinger, get me the C.O.
Of the 1st Marine Division.

I'm afraid you need
a clerk to do that, sir.

Excuse me, Grumpy.
I'm afraid you're not
afraid enough.

You see, I dwarf you in rank.
Aren't you a company clerk?

I, sir,
am the personal attaché

of our own commanding
officer

Charles Emerson
Winchester III.

Or, as we in liege
like to call him,
King Charles I.

Wait a minute. Yesterday, when
the colonel put him in charge,

you wanted to volunteer
for a kamikaze school.

Yesterday
I was young and foolish.

Today
I'm older and busier.

Now, if you'll
just excuse me,

I have to get moving
on Major Domo's personal
requisition list.

Let me see that.

"A dozen tins
of rolled anchovies.

"A deluxe set
of silk bed linen.

Complete recorded
works of Wagner."

That's "Wag-ner."
That must be the major's
handwriting.

You see I need the phone.

This is at least a day's worth
of wheeling and stealing.

Something
smells fishy here,

and the anchovies
haven't arrived yet.

How come you're suddenly
his personal caterer?

Loyalty. As company clerk,
it is my sworn duty

to serve him who wears
the mantle of command.

Your duty to serve does not
include hors d'oeuvres.

Ah, yes, but how
can one refuse a leader
so kind and benevolent?

-How much is he paying you?
-Ooh, a bundle!

Klinger, any luck with
the Wagner recordings?

That's "Wag-ner."
Can't you read
your own writing?

So far I've gotten
two Homer and Jethro albums.

But don't worry,
I'm trading up.

You could hardly do otherwise.

Excuse me.
May I have an audience

with Your Royal Heinie?

Sure, I always have time
for the little people.

Let me ask a little question.

What are you doing
appropriating
government property?

He's our company clerk.

He's not your man Friday
or any other day.

Silence, soldier boy!

This camp is being run
with the utmost of efficiency.

-Max, have I not seen
to the daily reports?
-Yes, Sire.

-Max, have I not seen
to the monthly inventories?
-Yes, Sire.

As you can see,
it's 10:00 and all's well.

Therefore, as long
as he has the time
and I have the money,

why should I not enjoy
a few of the basic
necessities of life?

Silk linen?

Pierce, you may have been
swaddled in burlap,

but a Winchester does not rub
elbows with mattress buttons.

Listen, silky,
there's a Dutch kid
in post-op right now,

who has a hell of a lot
more to worry about
than chafed elbows,

and I need Klinger
to call his C.O.

Well,
then you shall have him.

Max, please place
the captain's call.

I'm such an old softy.

Oh, thank you. A million
thanks, Your Softiness.

Always ready to do
a little something
for a big nothing.

Max, as soon as you've
placed the call,

I'd like to see you
in my chambers.

There are boots
to be blacked.

Ah, here you are, sir.

Max!

Uh, coming, Your Most
Imperial Majorocity.

And remember,

in case you're planning
a palace coup,

-I can be bought.
-Uh-huh.

This is Colonel Mulholland.

What can I do for you,
Dr. Pierce?

I'm calling about your
Private Jost Van Liter.

Oh, yes, Doctor. When
will I be getting him back?

Well, that's what I want
to talk to you about.

His wound is healing nicely,

but I'm afraid I can't say
the same for his spirit.

Hold on. This
wouldn't happen to be

about his mother, would it?

Well, yeah,
now that you mention it.

Oh, now I see
he's working on you

with that sob story.

I'm sorry you had
to get involved.

I thought I made it clear
to him that the Marine Corps

is not about to grant an early
discharge to every pantywaist

who wants to go home
to see his mommy.

Colonel, this kid
is no pantywaist.

He just wants
to get out a week early.

I mean, let's face it.

He busted his, uh,
his arm for the corps.

In other words, he's done
his duty, no more.

Apparently, you doctors
get all choked up
over a Purple Heart,

but to the marines,
it's what we're here for.

It's our job.
You get the picture?

Oh, yeah. In black and blue.
Look, if memory serves,

we're all supposed to be
on the same side in this thing.

Why don't we try
to help each other?

Good idea. You send
that kid back here soon,

I'll see to it you
get an empty bed.

I knew you'd understand.

And then this
harebrained colonel,

whose crew cut I could hear,

has the nerve
to hang up on me.

Well--

That's when I really
told him off.

Helping out a Dutch boy
is perfect for you, Hawk.

Holland's full of
windmills to tilt at.

Ah, King Charles deigns
to sit with his subjects.

Why, we've even named
today's lunch after you:

His Majesty on a shingle.

Careful, Hunnicutt.

We wouldn't want to find
ourselves

-on bread and water,
now would we?
-Oh, now that's rye.

Your repast, sir.
Complete with rose, linen,

and today's
Stars and Stripes.

-Just sign here, sir.
-Thank you, Max.

There's your receipt.

The American soldier
travels on his stomach,

except for Klinger,
who travels on his knees.

What do you do now,
taste his food for him?

Please. There are certain
things even money can't buy.

If you gentlemen
will excuse me,

Isn't that
just like a king?

We spend all morning
poisoning his food,

and he buries his face
in the paper.

I just want to see

what's going on in
the civilized world.

"Mob Wars Break Out
in Brooklyn."

Well, that's
certainly civilized.

I'm trying to read.

Hey, this actually
is civilized.

"Article Draws Blood.
Readers' Response Saves G.I.

"A recent article
in Stars and Stripes
on the plight

"of Staff Sergeant
Martin Appelsky

"prompted
the donation of over--

50 pints of
AB-negative blood."

-Hey, maybe that's it!
-Do you mind?

That's it. This could
change everything.

-What are you talking about?
-Klinger, come with me.

Klinger, you will
do no such thing.

I am trying
to help that marine,
and I need Klinger.

Oh, very well.
You may have him.

Have him back
in an hour, though.

My God, I've been traded!

Thanks
for the lovely peasant.

I ask you.

Has not Jost Van Liter

given more than
was asked of him?

Did he not voluntarily agree

to defend
his chosen country?

And--and--and should not
that country

-defend him?
-Give 'em hell, Hawkeye.

Is there even one man

in all of Korea

so cruel as--as--as...

One "as." Just one "as."
Just put one "as."

...as to begrudge

this courageous marine

a mere week-- mere
week...

to visit his
beleaguered mother?

-Oh!
-Good, okay, okay.

And what of--
What of that...

-woebegotten woman.
-Ah!

Of that woe-begotten woman
lost between two shores,

a pawn...

in the heartless
chess game...

of immigrational
bureaucracy?

-That's good.

I say she has
suffered enough.

Enough pain
and enough anguish.

A divorce.
A deportation hearing.

And now the wounding
of her sole surviving son.

Shame, shame, shame.

All three "shames."
Put all three "shames" in.
All three.

Three.

Terrific! You really know how
to hit 'em below the heart.

For we will all be
better human beings...

by showing this
fledgling citizen...

what America
really stands for...

truth, justice
and the American way.

Wow! You really know
your Constitution.

Well, actually,
that last part came from
the beginning of Superman.

Okay, uh, make two copies.
One for us...

and one to
the Pulitzer Committee.

Wait a minute. Wait.
What is this? What is this?

"By B.F. Pierce, as told to
Corporal Maxwell Q. Klinger."

-This is my article.
-Right. And who did you just
tell it to?

-No, that doesn't mean--
-The defense rests.

The defense will rest in peace.
Erase that!

Boy, you seem like
such a nice guy on paper.

"...truth, justice
and the American way." Huh?

Oh, Captain,
that is wonderful.

My knowledge of English
is short...

-but I like very much the way
you write.
-It's a gift.

I also write wonderfully
exciting prescriptions.

Pharmacists can't
put them down.

Do you think the newspaper
will print that, sir?

You bet your wooden
combat boots they will.

When people see this story,
you're gonna be out of
Dutch, Dutch.

Two down front.

-Right this way,
Mr. First-nighter.
-Just get to it, soldier.

Which of these sleeping beauties
is Captain Pierce?

Here he is, the one and only...
the Lone Writer.

He did it all.
He gets all the credit.

-You Captain Pierce?
-Probably. I was when
I went to sleep.

Well, I better be
running along.

I'm sure you don't
want any witnesses.

There's a Colonel Mulholland
over at Marine H.Q.

who wants to
see you immediately.

This complaint says
you've been writing

seditious lies about
the Marines.

Ah! Aha.
News travels fast,

especially when
it's in a newspaper.

He probably got
the early sedition.

Immediately,
as in right now, sir.

Okay, okay, you don't have
to say it twice. A word to
the puny is sufficient.

-Who goes there?
-Let's go, Captain. Let's go!

-What's going on, Hawk?
-Don't worry, Beej.

Evidently, my quill has
ruffled a few marine feathers.

For shame, Hawkeye.
Have you been rotten
to the corps?

He's probably worried
I'm gonna do a follow-up.

He better not give me any
trouble, or I'll become a
second-story man.

Should I go with you and bring
the salt for his wounds?

No, no. The pleasure
is all mine.

What the...
What's going on here?

-What are these two
behemoths doing?
-Anything they want.

Colonel Mulholland has issued
an order for this man's arrest.

It's that Van Liter kid.
They want to talk to me

about some writing
I've been doing for him.

Sort of a sunrise seminar.

Why wasn't I
informed of this?

How dare you come
lumbering into my camp

and shanghai
one of my finest...

one of my officers?

- May I ask
who you are, sir?
-Yes.

Charles Emerson
Winchester, the boss.

Commanding officer
pro tem of this unit.

Of course, I am presently
sans insignia

to prove that I am
your superior officer.

But rest assured, young man,
I am your superior.

Sir, as commanding officer,

you are within your rights
to order us off the premises.

Can I do that? That is
precisely what I am doing.

Off. Off!

However, I think
I should warn you, sir,

that Colonel Mulholland
will be made aware

of your efforts
to obstruct his efforts.

And any further
prosecution of this matter
is sure to include you.

We'll be leaving now, sir.

Uh, wait. Wait.

Don't forget your traitor.

You showed 'em exactly
what you're made of,
Your Royal Pudding.

So, uh, eat any
good books lately?

Did you really think
Stars and Stripes

would publish
this kind of garbage

without checking
with us first?

Well, since
it was true, I--

For your information, Doctor,

the Marine Corps doesn't need
this kind of publicity.

-That's why I had
the story killed.
-You did what?

You heard me.
It's finished.

This story will never
be published.

How dare you! What are you
over here fighting for anyway?

-Freedom of "sup-press"?
-Actually, Pierce...

I'm all for freedom
of the press,

but this article was slanted.

So, you're welcome
to straighten it out.

Write your own article.

Try to refute that
vicious pack of facts.

I've got more
important things to do.

I'm here to
win a war, remember?

I haven't got time to waste
with your rabble-rousing.

That isn't rabble-rousing.
The Bill of Rights

says I have a right to write.
Or am I wrong?

Look, Pierce,
I can see you're, uh,

fond of big words
and flowery speeches.

Me, I'm a one-syllable man.

So just let me lay it out
for you nice and simple.

If they're deporting
Van Liter's mother,
that's the breaks.

I'm not letting any
able body out a minute early.

And you know something else?

There's not thing one
you can do about it.

-Now wait a minute, Colonel...
-The only person who's getting
out is you... now!

Oh, that's right.
Better grab both my arms.

I'm liable to go for my pen.

Feel that, Major.
Pretty smooth job of
requisitioning, huh?

Just put your Chuck Hancock
right there, sir.

Klinger,
my faithful scavenger,

if these sheets are
as silky as your tongue,

I shall indeed sleep
like a baby.

Rest assured, sir, I haven't
seen sheets like this

since my Uncle Abdul's wedding.

-All the ushers
were wearing them.
-So now it's silk sheets.

-How fitting
for our chief worm.

Very funny, Hunnicutt.
I shall keep you in mind
for court fool.

I am not gonna let that
fathead get away with it.

Easy, Hawk. It's only
a set of sheets.

I don't mean that fathead.
I'm talking about Mulholland.

-Uh-huh.
-He's so smug.

He knows he can block off
every military channel.

So change the channel.
Take your story to
a larger audience.

What do you want me to do?
Go north and holler at China?

We know he can censor
the military press,

but he can't control
civilian reporters,

if you get
my train of thought.

Oh, right.
The press train at Munsan.

More reporters there than
you can shake a byline at.

So, what do you
think, Lionel?

I think I can.
I think I can.

Klinger, we'll need a jeep

and a travel voucher
on the double.

-On the double will cost you
twice as much.
- Gentlemen.

Gentlemen, aren't you
forgetting military protocol?

All such requests
must be funneled through me,

your first link in
the chain of command.

I want that jeep fast,
or you'll be the missing link.

See, was that so hard?
Klinger, get 'em a jeep.

Hey, this is
a terrific story!

Well, thank you.

Yeah, it'll be great
once it's written.

It is written. Look.
See, words and everything.

Ah, well, actually I think
you've gotten too involved.

A reporter should be
more detached, more objective.

-More skillful.
-Ah, come on, Murray.

I spent a lot
of time on this.

There must be
something worth keeping.

Well, this part's not bad
about truth, justice
and the American way.

Yeah, I thought
that part was super.

I'd like to help
this kid out.

Can I take a crack
at his story?

How 'bout it, Hawk?
You won't mind

sharing your credit with
a professional, will ya?

No, he can have
all the credit.

That's not important to me.
I'm in medicine.

You better be.
Your writing makes
people sick.

So they cabled from the train,
and it went over all the wires.

I'm not sure I understand.

There is a train
that doesn't move,

but a wire goes to America?

What Captain Pierce
is trying to say,

sometimes he has trouble
expressing himself,

is that the article
was picked up at home

by every paper
on the West Coast.

Even made the front page
in Portland, Oregon.

So cheer up. You're
the toast of the coast, Jost.

Thank you very much
for everything you've
done for me...

but how will this help?

I mean, I still have
the same problem,

just more people
now know about it.

Yeah, but when
people hear about

somebody in trouble,
they do something.

-From Portland, Oregon?
-Yeah, yeah.

And from Tacoma, Washington
and Sacramento, California.

It's called
"public opinion."

People hear
about an injustice,
and they rally around.

They change it,
they straighten it out.

That's truth, justice,
and the American way.
Right, Beej?

Who am I to argue
with a doctor

who can leap tall buildings
at a single bound?

You just rest, and don't
worry about a thing.

Boy, you can't write,
but you sure can talk.

Let's just hope
it doesn't turn out
to be a work of fiction.

CHARLES:
Maxwell, are you hurrying?

I am, sir.
Lickety-spit.

Klinger--

Oh, I'm sorry, sir.

A simple "welcome home"
would suffice.

What is going on here?

Why have you
turned this place
into a Lebanese laundry?

Oh, oh, these aren't
my pants, sir.

Who's the half-nude dude
who's got you

on more pressing duties
than your own job?

-CHARLES: Max, slacks.
-Aha!

I should have known by
the "Luftwaffe Serenade."

CHARLES:
You lout! I want to be
dressed this instant!

Sit this one out, lout.
I'll tend to "Brunhildy."

A little slow here.

Aha! About time, Max.

Now, I want you to get busy

and fumigate
this barn of an office.

Get rid of that saddle.
The whole place smells
like Trigger.

You'll see what
this camp could be like

with a man of culture
at the helm

instead of our old
beloved Colonel Cow Pie.

-Oh! Oh!

Colonel Cowpotter--
Uh, Colonel Potter.

I was joshing.
I knew you were here
all the time.

How did you know it was me?
Recognize my clippety-clop?

No, I was...
No, I was just having
a little...

I left you in charge
to conduct business,
not "sym-phonies."

And not to have
my company clerk

working overtime in your
personal sweatshop.

-Oh, he was just catching up--
- You and
your musical Nazis

are officially
out of office.

Now git along, big dogie.
Git along. And pronto.

Yes, of course, sir.
Yes, I will.

If you'll just
hand me my trou--

You're lucky I don't
hand you your head!

Sir, I-I-I'm
out of uniform.

What will people say?

People will say it's
the emperor's new clothes!

Vamoose!

♪ I'm back in
the saddle again ♪

♪ Back where a friend
is a friend ♪

B.J.: Somehow we knew
you were back, Colonel,

when we saw Charles
doing a 100-yard flash
across the compound.

Well, it's good to see
at least you boys

have been doing something
worthwhile during my absence.

Yeah, but you know,
Stars and Stripes

didn't pick up
that story about Jost

until it was seen
all over the States.

This oughta loosen up
a few leathernecks.

Don't look now, Hawk,
but I think that's
Colonel Mulholland

-and his two trained redwoods.
-And he's hot off the presses.

All right, Pierce,
what the hell is this?

Uh, let's see...
It's black and white and read
all over.

That's a newspaper
or a suntanned zebra.

-You made this happen.
-No, I couldn't have
done it by myself.

-My prose is strictly amateur.
-He brought in a Jost writer.

I don't give a damn
who wrote it.

You clowns
are responsible for this.

All right, I'll take
full responsibility...

-if you'll take full
irresponsibility.
-After all, fair's fair.

You think
you've won, don't you?

Well, let me
tell you something.

Your little Dutch boy
is gonna pay for this.

When we get him back,
he's in for the longest

three weeks of his life.

Well, isn't that
a coincidence?

We doctors were just
discussing his prognosis.

Seems he's come down
with a 21-day flu.

-Isn't that right, Doctor?
-I'll second the opinion.

-You can't do that.
-Maybe they can't, but I
believe yours truly can.

If you watch the birdie here,
you'll get the picture.

I see.
I read you loud and clear.

Oh, but don't worry.
We'll tell Jost you send

your best wishes
for a speedy recovery.

You doctors always cover
for each other, don't you?

That's right.
And to quote a phrase

that seems to be all the rage,

"There's not thing one
you can do about it."

Well, that's just fine too.

I hope he has a nice stay
with you bleeding hearts.

But whether he's with us
or with you, no matter
how you slice it,

he's still not gonna
get home in time to kiss
his mommy good-bye.

I do not have much money.

I may never have enough
to visit my mother in Holland.

You must have faith, Jost.

I just wish there was
something we could do

to make you feel better.

Oh, I wish that were possible.

Okay, we've done it!
They've done it!

We just got off the phone
with Murray Thompson.

Is that the man
who wrote the article?

The man who wrote the
well-written article.

-Get on with it, Pierce.
-Okay, okay, everybody.

All those who are wounded,

whose mothers
are facing deportation,

and who never expect to see
them again, raise your hands.

Not so fast, Van Liter!

The Dutch Consul General
in San Francisco

read your story in the paper

and hired your mother
as a secretary.

Now she has
diplomatic immunity.

-What does that mean?
-It means she can't be
deported.

When you're discharged
from the Marines,

she'll still be
in San Francisco.

-Oh, that's terrific, Jost!
-What a blessing!

Oh, that is wonderful.
I have all of you
to thank for this.

Especially you,
Dr. Pierce.

Just think of it
as a Dutch treat.

Yes, sirree, Jim,
at the end of a long day,

there's nothin' like sitting
back with a loose shirt
and a stiff belt.

Here's to the AWOL
Jost Van Liter.

"Absent With Our Love."

Sir, the dark cloud
of tragedy

has once again
enveloped the Klinger clan.

Please, Klinger,
not another tragedy.
It hurts when I laugh.

I just got word my parents
are getting divorced,

which means my mother
will be deported to Lebanon.

-I must get home
before she leaves.
-Of course you must.

You've got most
of her dresses.

Now, now, just a minute, boys.

Let's give the begrieved
the benefit of the doubt.

If he wants to apply for
a compassionate discharge,

the least we can do
is show him sympathy.

Let's get that form
filled out.

-Boy!

You rang, sir?