Original subtitles

MAN : Attention, all personnel.

Incoming wounded in the compound.

First surgical team, report to the bus.

First surgical team.

KLINGER: Let's go! Let's go!

Gangway. Hot stuff comin' through!

Dennis, give us a hand.

And keep track of the blankets.

-Margaret. -Yes.

Prep him, and hang another unit of plasma.

-Yes, doctor. -Same here, Major.

I want chest X-rays on this one.

These two in pre-op right away.

Kellye, gimme a hand.

Who lost a rabbit's foot?

Looks like they all did.

Why don't you finish triage?

-I'm gonna go scrub up. -Right.

Think you'd better start with that one there first, okay?

-Okay. -All right, you can walk.

Come here. Watch it. Watch it.

Stand up easy.

-Klinger! -Sir?

Get him into X-ray. Watch your head.

Tell Major Burns he's invited to surgery.

Captain, what's-what's your name, please?

Sir?

All right.

Well, come on. Snap it up!

-Sorry, sir. -I haven't got all day.

Doing a little moonlighting, Frank?

He's got another malpractice on the side.

-Big load come in? -Three waiting, Father.

I'll get into some gear.

Don't stand next to Frank, Father.

He'll cut right through your beads.

You're as funny as a crutch.

-Sir? -How many times have I told you to knock?

Sir, look at this.

-Picking an easy one, Frank? -Ha ha.

That the captain who was on the bus?

-Yeah. -Terrific.

You really made my day, Radar.

Better look sharp, Father.

We got a friend of yours in surgery.

Huh?

Well, what'd he mean by that, Radar?

Father, we got a guy that says he's Jesus Christ.

Some people just don't belong in combat.

I'm trying to love it, Frank. Honest, I am.

Well, what about the fellow's dog tags?

He didn't have any.

I asked him what his name was,

and he said... "I'm Jesus Christ."

Just like that. Not even Captain Christ.

My word.

You know what really irks me about this war, Beej?

No idea.

The lack of genuine spontaneity.

Every day it's the same old grind.

You wake up, brush your teeth,

walk the dog, operate on the Lord.

Oh, that's downright blasphemous!

That's from a man who polishes his socks for inspection.

Pay him no mind, Major.

He envies you your sanity.

True, Frank. Next to your lisp,

that's what I envy most about you.

Boy, you really are a sicko, mental.

Just 'cause I spend most of my waking hours

fixing up small wounds so they can go back

and get bigger and better wounds,

you think I'm mental?

Ausgespielt? Bughouse? Tetched?

Milky in the filbert?

Of course I am.

Wouldn't you be,

Lieutenant Nightingale?

It goes against my training to say

"Take two aspirin and go get yourself killed."

What would Hippocrates say? What would Socrates say?

And what would you say if I asked you

if you wanted to go into the linen closet

for several minutes of heavy breathing?

Are you gonna knock it off?

That's what I'm trying to find out, Frank.

Disgusting!

Oh, Lord.

Sorry, I wasn't talking to you.

-Lieutenant. -Doctor.

-She's crazy about me. -She hides it well.

-We don't want anybody to know. -Good work.

What is it you find so fascinating

about ladies in olive drab?

Mother was frightened by a recruiting poster.

What are you up to, you swarthy minx?

-Bedpan duty. -Good training.

After the war, you can open your own pay toilet.

Keep it up, doc.

With my luck, you'll get my Section 8.

Good morning, sir.

How you doin'?

Fine. How are you?

-Uh, fine. -Oh, we're fine.

We're doctors.

Uh, apparently, you, uh, you lost your dog tags,

so, uh, we have to get some information

from you for our records.

You know the army, the old green machine.

Yeah, we need your, uh, rank, your serial number,

-your, uh, unit. -Your name.

Yeah, that'd be a good place to start.

-My name. -Mm-hmm.

My name is Jesus Christ.

Oh, that's funny.

We have a savior by that name.

A little witticism that was just condemned to purgatory.

Uh, no foolin'. We need a name.

Of course.

Jesus Christ.

J-E-S-U...

-We've got that. -Uh, yeah, yeah.

That much we know, yeah.

Um...

your head wound is very superficial.

It's-it's-it's hardly more than a scratch.

Now, if you wanna have a go at bugging out

of the army, that's fine.

I just think you should use a fresher approach.

What can I do to convince you?

A miracle would definitely be a step in the right direction.

Maybe a few steps-- say, upon the water.

Doctors.

Padre.

You two oughtta get acquainted.

Better acquainted, he means.

Uh, Father Mulcahy, Jesus Christ.

-Hello, my son. -Hello, Father.

Well...

here we are.

Just what do you intend doing about it,

Colonel Potter? It's an outrage.

Something has to be done

about this person calling himself Christ!

Why?

Why?

Did you say "Why?"

It wasn't him. It must've been me.

Oh, come off it, Major. Who's this fella hurting?

He should be court-martialed for cowardice!

-And blasphemy! -And blasphemy!

-And cowardice. -And cowardice.

The effrontery of the man!

A mere captain claiming to be...Him.

But I don't see how that pertains.

If a man says he's Christ,

he might just become a better Christian.

I mean, if I had a horse

who was convinced he was Man O' War...

I don't know that I'd want to set him straight,

if you get my drift.

Colonel,

we're speaking of our Savior.

-We want to be sure-- -That certain parties--

Don't help that yellow-backed hoodwink the U.S. Army,

in which I, for one, so proudly serve!

We so.

You're referring to...

-Pierce and Hunnicutt. -Is who he's referring to.

Oh, you've hated them

since they stuck a turtle in your shorts.

Well, this has nothing to do with that.

What is it you think they're planning to do?

-Oh-- -Well, who knows?

All these bleeding-heart liberals are the same!

Let a man claim to be an underdog,

and they will do anything they can for him.

You regard Jesus Christ as an underdog?

Well, he didn't exactly run roughshod over the Greeks.

-Romans. -Or them, either.

I'm telling you, those two hotshots

will do anything they can to give the red, white, and blue a black eye.

Horse hockey. Pardon my French.

As long as I'm in charge around here,

which will be another 17 months, two weeks, six days,

there will be no shenanigans.

I do not approve of carrying tales.

Evidence is one thing. Innuendo is another!

If evidence is what you want, Colonel,

evidence is what you'll get.

Are you with me, Major?

-Right up to the hilt. -Sir.

Creeps.

Well, I'm sure glad you could make it

on such short notice, sir.

We certainly are.

You call this short?

I've been outside the camp for over an hour

waiting for the cloak of darkness.

Gee. Just like The Shadow.

You're some guy, Colonel Flagg.

Yes, I am.

It's not necessary for me to tell you

we appreciate your contacting us.

But we're not in the gratitude business.

It's the duty of every real American

to be on the lookout for goldbricks,

pinkos, and fellow travelers.

Of course, without the likes of Americans like you,

the jobs of Americans like me would be

a lot more difficult. But don't get me wrong.

Americans like me like difficult jobs.

So don't get the idea

you're doing the C.I.A. any favors.

We don't really need Americans like you.

We don't need anybody.

You said it!

What do you make of this mystery man

who claims to be Christ, Colonel?

Just your typical Joe trying to get out of doing his duty?

I bet commie.

I say his parents weren't even born

in this country.

Korea?

No, I meant our country.

You know... America.

Hmm. Well, you can put a lid on this guessing game.

As it happens, I know who our friend

with the messiah complex really is.

Oh, I knew you'd get to the bottom of this.

All it takes is the right man with a shovel

who knows where to dig.

I couldn't ask for a better man.

Or a bigger shovel.

Uh, sir.

Here's orange juice.

Thank you.

I brought you two.

Thank you.

I'll be grateful to you, Colonel,

if you can clear this matter up.

Without taking hostages, if possible.

Colonel Flagg's over here

to keep us all safe from democracy.

Can it, Pierce.

Still a cutie pie, ain't ya?

Well, some guys have got it.

Colonel, I've got your man's complete dossier right here.

His name's Chandler, Arnold T.

He's a bombardier with the 428th Bomber Squadron.

His plane was shot down four days ago,

at which time he received his alleged wounds.

I told you they were alleged wounds.

That's why I gave him all that alleged plasma.

You're lucky I got a sense of humor.

Well, what sort of military record

does this Chandler have?

It's inconsequential.

How many missions did he fly?

57.

Sounds consequential to me.

Sounds like fatigue, Colonel.

His psychological tests don't show

any susceptibility to battle psychosis.

Maybe his psychological tests

didn't have to fly 57 missions.

Chandler's turned chicken.

It's my job to cut him off at the pass.

You're gonna cut a chicken off at the pass?

I've got to nip this rotten apple in the bud.

This sort of action's contagious.

One man decides he's not gonna fight, it catches on.

Next thing, you know what you got on your hands?

Peace?

Now, I either want Chandler's highly trained thumb

up there, pushing the button,

or I want to get him for dereliction of duty.

Why don't we just remove his thumb

and send that over to the 428th?

Colonel.

Colonel?

When can I have him?

Give me a medical decision now.

The last C.O. they had here couldn't make a decision

without a month's warning.

I'm not fond of personal abuse, Colonel.

I was in this man's army when the only thumb

you cared about was the one you had in your mouth.

Chandler will be able to return to action...

couple of days.

Good.

But it takes more than four sound legs

to make a stallion run.

Takes a sound heart and a sound mind.

It also takes a rider who's not afraid to go to the whip.

Wait a second. Just a minute.

None of us, least of all this khaki Godzilla,

qualifies as an expert on emotional stability.

I suggest we have Captain Chandler

examined by a top psychiatrist,

somebody who knows his way around the old attic.

-Got anyone in mind? -Sidney Freedman.

-Major Sidney Freedman. -Good man?

Sidney could've talked Oedipus into leaving home.

-Get him. -Got him. -Good.

Freedman. Is that E-I or I-E?

Two E's, as in "freedom."

That's what got you confused.

-Major Freedman. -Yeah?

Colonel Flagg. We played poker once.

Oh, sure. With Intelligence, right?

I have nothing to do with Intelligence.

Better. You won't get worry lines.

Freedman.

How'd you like to do yourself a favor?

Who deserves one more?

Then back me all the way on this Chandler caper.

He's trying to pull a fast one. I won't have it.

From what I hear, the man needs help.

My kind of help.

You just let one of those creeps

get away with a phony messiah complex,

and before you can say John the Baptist,

we'll be hip deep in sackcloth and ashes.

We're not gonna let that happen, are we?

We're not?

Well, we'll see. Then we'll know.

Point of order, Dr. Freedman,

Sidney Theodore, we won't see.

As it happens, I know who you are.

Is that right?

Am I who I think I am?

I've been doing a little digging,

Dr. Freedman with two Es.

Your association with certain groups

on the Attorney General's list of subversive organizations.

Young Americans for a Lasting Peace.

New York Alliance for Young Democrats.

Doctors' Progressive Conference.

You're forgetting the Boy Scouts

and the psychiatrists' bowling league.

Hold it.

What do you want?

I got work to do, sir.

Well, let's see how fast you can do it!

Watch this.

Boy Scouts. That's funny, Freedman.

Almost as funny as the fact that

you never signed your loyalty oath.

You know you can get busted right out of the service

for that, don't you, Comrade Freedman?

Oh, is that what I am?

Why didn't you sign it?

Just between the two of us,

and whatever mic I might be talking into,

do you really believe if I were a communist,

I'd hesitate for a second to sign a loyalty oath?

I'd like to go on talking to you, Flagg,

but with your schizophrenia,

I'd have to charge you double time.

Now if you'll excuse me,

I've already kept Jesus waiting five minutes.

♪ The more I see you

♪ The more I want you

♪ La-dee-dee-dah-dah la-dee-- ♪

-FLAGG: You! -What!

This is the army, soldier!

I get that feeling too.

-Hey! -What?

The next time I see you, Tinker Bell,

you better be in uniform and as G.I.

as General MacArthur. You hear me?

Loud and clear, Mary.

♪ With every sigh I'm more mad about you ♪

Radar tells us Flagg's giving you a hard time.

He's got a few bugs in his filter.

What else is new?

Well, the Canadians just took Hill 807.

The Marines landed on Inchon.

But the big news is my son's got his first tooth.

Another proud father.

-Nice. -Nice.

He's not gonna be an analyst.

He's gonna look people in the eye.

Uh, 130 over 70.

Where's my patient?

Come to see your savior?

Mine? No. Yours?

Who knows?

You tell us.

-Where is he? -Over there.

You don't recognize him from his picture?

So what you're saying is that Judas

only did what he had to do.

Being Judas, he could do nothing else.

Ah! But if that is so--

Come, come! You boys promised to mingle,

and here you are off in the corner, talking shop.

Hello, Sidney.

Father.

Captain Chandler, Major Freedman.

I'm glad to meet you.

We haven't yet. My name's Jesus Christ.

Sidney, we won't wait up.

Jesus Christ.

Yes.

Your presence poses

some interesting questions.

For instance,

how long have you known your true identity?

What do you mean?

Until about five days ago, you were Arnold Chandler.

Now, Arnold Chandler was born in Idaho,

was raised on the family sheep ranch,

went to college in Colorado,

enlisted in the army, went to O.C.S.,

trained as a bombardier, went on over 50 missions,

and earned most of the medals and commendations

that are available.

I'm not Captain Chandler.

You're not from Idaho?

You're not in the army?

Of course not.

You're not a bombardier?

I'm Christ the Lord.

But you died.

I arose.

That was a long time ago.

Where have you been since then?

I live on in all men.

What are you doing here in an army hospital?

I'm Christ.

Where should I be?

Should you be in the nose of a B-29?

B-29?

That's where you've been

a good part of the past two years...

up in a B-29, dropping bombs.

Bombs.

On people?

On the enemy.

I have no enemies. I love all men.

Even the North Koreans?

They're my children.

Why would I hurt my children?

I'm sorry. I'm-I'm not this Captain Chandler

you're looking for, but I hope you can find him.

I hope you can help him.

Tell me, is it true that God answers all prayers?

Yes.

Sometimes the answer is no.

Frank, do you have to do that?

-Do what? -Crack your knuckles.

All the Burns men crack their knuckles.

Oh! Sorry. I didn't realize

I was treading on sacred tradition.

Oh, you two sass boxes think you're so smart!

Well, you just wait and see what happens

to your friend Chandler when the spit hits the Spam.

Gospel according to Frank.

Frank, scrape the rust off your imagination.

What if the captain is really who he says he is?

No chance. I tested him.

Said a little prayer to him before.

No big deal. Just a little test.

Just in case.

Just to be on the safe side.

And my prayer wasn't answered.

Stick that in your hair and rub it.

Frank, just because you didn't get any chocolate pudding

at lunch doesn't prove anything.

How did you know I prayed for chocolate pudding?

You always pray for chocolate pudding.

You know, if you're not careful, Frank,

you're gonna replace Pontius Pilate

in the hearts of your fellow men.

You'll be famous. Your name will be spread

all over the newest Testament.

Of course, no one'll ever call their kid Frank again.

True. How many two-year-old Pontius Pilates do you meet?

Oh...

I'm washing my hands of the two of you.

Get it? Washing my hands?

Well, Dr. Freedman, what's the diagnosis?

He's Christ.

If you look closely,

you may notice I'm not laughing.

Okay, he's not Christ.

But he's also not Chandler.

Psychoanalytical double-talk.

The man's a victim.

He's bucking for a ticket stateside!

All we gotta do is stuff the guts back in him.

Frank builds the cross, and he's the nail salesman.

You're a victim, too, Flagg.

But you're such an unbelievable example

of walking fertilizer, it's hard for me to care.

Colonel, some men lose an arm or a hand or a leg.

Chandler lost himself.

He's not playing a game.

He spent two years dropping bombs on people

who never did anything to him,

until finally something inside

this kid from Idaho said, "Enough.

"You're Christ. You're not a killer.

"The next bomb you drop, you drop on yourself."

What do you suggest, doctor?

I think that with a lot of the right kind of help,

we may be able to turn him back

into Arnold Chandler.

We'll never be able to turn him back

into a fighting tool.

And it's my professional advice

that we don't try.

I gave you a chance to play ball.

Now I'm blowin' the whistle on you, Freedman.

Blow away.

Colonel Potter, this man, this American,

never signed his officer's loyalty oath.

And I intend to see that he's thrown out of the service.

Very smart, Sidney!

Terrific!

I wish I'd thought of that.

Where do we go to not sign?

You crafty devil.

Wait a minute.

Wait a minute.

You are very smart, Freedman.

I told you.

You're only saying Chandler flipped out

so I will have you busted and you can return

to your safe, cozy civilian practice.

He's on to you, Sid.

But you're not smart, Freedman.

You're dumb. Very dumb!

But you've met your match in me.

Now, Chandler may get out as a psycho.

He's small potatoes.

The army could teach my mother how to drop bombs

Your mother?

"Whistler's Bombardier."

But you, Major, are here to stay.

Right here, shrink,

where we can make sure you remain loyal

to the country that's gonna hound your every step.

Keep up the good work.

Thanks, fellas.

A little loco weed

must've gotten mixed in with his feed.

He always carry on like that?

I think he's been sniffing his invisible ink.

He's what Freud used to call "spooky."

On the other hand,

if Flagg wasn't mean, rotten, and crazy,

he wouldn't have any personality at all.

MAN : Attention.

Attention, all personnel.

The evacuation bus is now boarding outside post-op.

It leaves in five minutes.

Sir, uh, my name is Radar O'Reilly.

Remember, I brought you juice?

I remember.

Um, sir, are you really who--

I mean... are you really Him?

Yes.

Oh.

Well, I know you're busy and everything,

but I was wondering,

could you bless this for me, please?

The bag?

No. What's inside.

I know he's not real, but we're very close.

Bless you.

And bless you, Radar.

Um, I'm Walter.

Bless you, Walter.

Thank you, sir.

Bless all of you.

Kansas.

Very good.

Uh, S. That's S.

No kidding. Uh, Saratoga.

No, you did that already.

Uh, Saint Croix. You owe me an X.

Oh, X... X...

Ha ha!

-Ha ha. -You ready? You ready?

-Yeah, whenever. -Xicotencatl.

-Xicot-- What's that? -It's Mexico.

It's in the book. Look it up.

Ah, I believe ya. I believe you.

All right, L. L for you.

Uh, la-la-la-la. Los Angeles.

-There's no such place. -What?

Listen, I've been to Los Angeles,

and there's no such place.

Los Angeles is a city. You owe me an S.

All-- Ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Sir, can you get Dr. Freedman

back here, the psychiatrist?

On what grounds?

I'm Moses, right?

Freedman's in Tokyo, Klinger.

You take the first left in the road,

and then when you come to it, you part the Sea of Japan.

Oh, ye of little faith.

That's Matthew.

Maybe I'm him, then.

I'll be anyone to get out.

Moses, Matthew, Doc, Grumpy, Sneezy,

Bashful, Dopey, Happy!