Original subtitles

RADAR: Major?

Major, ma'am?

-Major? -Aah!

Aah!

How dare you paw me!

I didn't paw you! I pawed your book!

-You're going on report! -For what?

For uncovering an officer's leg!

Ma'am, I never touched your leg!

Your leg was naked when I came in!

How dare you say "naked" to me!

Oh, I'm sorry, ma'am.

Stop staring at my leg!

I'm not! I am!

Don't you wish you could all the time...

stare at it, and touch it, and feel it!

Oh, no, ma'am.

You don't find it attractive?

Oh, yes, ma'am. It's a beautiful leg.

-You think so? -Yes.

It reminds me of my pony back home,

-only his hair's brown. -Out! Get out!

Wait a minute! Come back here!

-What do you want? -Oh, yeah.

There's an ambulance coming in. They want you to scrub.

-Don't touch that! -Oh, gee.

Just leave this tent exactly the way you found it.

-You got it. -Exactly!

-What do we got here, Radar? -Road accident.

This country's a course in creative killing.

-X-rays here, Radar. -Take him to X-ray.

Careful with him. He may have busted ribs.

What have we got here?

Come on. More X-rays.

Right. Follow him.

Right femur here.

Looks like Saturday night at the speedway.

-Everything under control? -So far.

B.J.: Be careful. Watch it.

You sure know how to make a doctor crazy.

I may write you an obscene prescription.

Fracture. Ankle fractured.

Gonna check for possible skull fracture.

We got knocked off the road by a tank, Doc.

He just kept going.

A clear case of crush and run.

It was one of ours.

We were goin' up north with Colonel Chaffey,

and wham!

The tank crowds us right into an embankment.

How can Americans do that to each other?

Ever see Gone With the Wind?

I'll take care of that for him, Doc.

He gets it when he goes.

-Radar. -Yo.

Colonel Chaffey's bats about that gun.

He'll get a receipt for it.

It's S.O.P., soldier.

Okay, guys, let's move him out.

Whatever you say, Commodore.

-Sirs. -Look out.

MAN : Nurse Plummer, report to the O.R.

Nurse Plummer, please.

Nurse Gage to X-ray.

Second post-op shift, please report at 0500 hours.

POTTER: More people hurt by vehicles

than anything else in battle. That's a fact.

Let me know if this hurts.

I almost bought it that way in World War I.

I was taking a nap on the side of a hill

when I heard a low rumbling I took to be distant artillery.

I looked up just in time to roll out of the path

of a breakaway portable latrine.

-They didn't really have those. -HAWKEYE: Absolutely.

America had the first armored men's room. Right, Colonel?

You're a bigger liar than I am.

How's our colonel doing?

Broken ankle.

Reckon he'll have to rest up in the fort for a spell.

He came in totin' a six-shooter.

Chrome, with a bone grip.

The kind we used to sign Indian treaties with.

My uncle Claude collected fancy guns.

He was cleaning them one day

when his prized piece went off.

The bullet severed his foot,

kept going across the room, and killed the cat.

They buried Tabby in one shoe box

and Uncle Claude's toe in another.

Really.

Isn't a G.I.-issue handgun enough for these army types?

If you like packing hardware,

you're always looking for a unique weapon.

So you can play soldier while you're playing soldier.

My father wouldn't let me have any toy

that even looked like a gun.

I was miserable till I discovered dolls.

I shot a bear once... in the penny arcade.

I wanted to break through that glass and fix up his shoulder.

-Hawk, you were a sensitive child. -Oh, yes.

I studied the violin till I beat up the teacher.

That hurt you yet?

I must be ready to get my license.

Attention, Major Burns. Attention, Major Houlihan.

Together again.

Majors Burns and Houlihan to the compound, please.

If you liked them in the laundry room,

you'll love them in the compound.

-Oops. Sorry, dear. -It's okay, honey.

Gimme that, you nut!

Frank, you've got to set an example.

Listen. I was sound asleep,

and suddenly there's all these wounded.

I mean... It's nearly midnight.

Why can't they fight from 9:00 to 6:00?

Maybe the next war, Frank. Maybe the next.

Can you pray somewhere else, Father?

You're genuflecting right in the way.

Well, I was only offering a bit of comfort.

I'll call you when it's time for kindness.

Okay, start an I.V. Two units of plasma.

Klinger!

Come on, pal. Give me the gun.

You'll get it back, honest.

Hey, what's the ruckus here?

He won't let go of it, sir.

Oh, good for you, son.

A soldier's best friend is his gun.

You take care of it, and it'll take care of you.

-He's unconscious, sir. -That's all right. He understands.

Maybe if I was, I would.

Did you call, ma'am?

First litter. Ward three.

Okay, chest, head injuries.

-Those are your best things. -Oh.

-Coming through. -Here.

Let me help. The gun bin's on my way.

Thank you, sir.

-Move your can! -What?

Move your can, sir.

I'll remember that, doggie breath.

-This will just take a minute, sir. -Oh, it's all right.

I can't start till Pierce and Hunnicutt

finish showing off in surgery.

You think you got enough keys there, Corporal?

Oh, I need 'em all, sir.

This one's to Colonel Potter's office.

This is oats for his horse.

Oh, this one's to my bike in Iowa.

Every time my sister borrows it,

uh, the chain slips.

Here we go.

What's that?

Yeah, how about that? Ain't that something?

It's a gun, sir.

A colonel's gun.

It just came in tonight.

Oh, that's an old beauty.

Yes, sir.

Man, that feels good.

Perfectly balanced.

Ya better believe it, Mister,

or you're dead where you stand.

Who's that supposed to be?

-John Wayne. -John Wayne?

He doesn't sound anything like you.

No, sir.

Oh, that's a dandy piece.

Yes, sirree Bob, that's one shootin' iron.

Eh, you've, uh, better put her to bed, Corporal.

Yes, sir.

Shouldn't you be getting back to surgery, sir?

I'm sure in the dull part of the war.

How do you feel this morning, Colonel Chaffey?

Oh, about like you'd expect

after losing an argument with a tank.

We checked on your jeep.

-Flattened? -B.J.: Mm-hmm.

They're shipping it to your house

and slipping it under the door.

You're in our "lucky to be alive" department.

How about my men?

Okay, give or take a few fractures.

Are you the one that fixed me up?

I just held the ball. He did the punting.

I'd like to show you my appreciation.

Maybe you could end the war a day or two sooner.

We're not allowed to take cash.

I'll do my best.

Oh, hey, Doc, um, when I came in,

I was wearing a gun, a Colt .45.

Not to worry.

The receipt for that gun is right in here.

Oh, thanks, Doc.

I wouldn't want to lose that baby.

We think of everything.

When you're ready, we even stamp your hand,

and you get right back into battle.

-Ah, who is it?

-FRANK: That "Major" person. -Come in.

Exercising?

Yoga.

It's changing my whole life, Frank.

I feel so vital and alive!

You ought to try it. Get your blood moving.

I don't need it, you little Hindu.

-I've got you. Ahhh. -Roughneck.

Ow! What is that?

Oh, sorry, sweets. I forgot I was packing this.

How about these apples, huh?

Frank, it's gorgeous! A Colt.45.

1884! Dad had one just like this!

Where did you get it?

Well, I've had it for years.

I finally sent for it.

I just, uh, missed my old pal.

Why don't you wear it as a regular side arm?

Oh, it looks smashing.

Oh, it's not for every day.

Instead of your service .45.

Oh, wear it, Frank. It's adorable!

No, I think I'll keep it under wraps for a while.

And-and-and don't say anything.

E-everyone's jealous enough as it is.

Oh, I know. Oh, what a surprise.

Who'd have thought you had a revolver like old Dad?

Okay, let's see...

6-9-2-3-4-8-3-3.

Just a sec.

Boy, sometimes it feels like they're flying

in your ear and out the other.

Four-eight-three-three...

Here you go, guy. Just like you left it.

Thanks, Corporal.

You're welcome. Take care.

Holy moley!

B.J.: What's Stars and Stripeshave to say this morning, Colonel?

Eighty cadets were just expelled from West Point

for cheating on their exams.

They should all be sentenced to this breakfast.

I'm sure sick of this powdered stuff.

Colonel, couldn't we once have fresh eggs?

Only if you can lay 'em.

Ask a foolish question...

Well, at least one of you still remembers his manners.

Not at all. My shorts were just riding up on me.

Says here Eisenhower's spending a lot of time playing golf.

More fun than playing President.

-What's his handicap? -A lot of people say Nixon.

-Colonel. -That's me, Radar.

Sir, I have something to report

that I wish I could do almost anything else instead of

but which I guess I got no choice.

Radar, if you bring that sentence in for a fitting,

I can have it shortened by Wednesday.

One of the casualties, son?

No, sir.

You know that Colonel Chaffey's gun, the fancy job...

-bone grips, shiny barrel? -Yes.

-It's gone. -Stolen?

It's out of the gun bin.

Anybody but you handle the keys?

They never leave me. I sleep with them.

I shower with them.

Rusty they'll never get.

When did you see the gun last?

Last night, Major Burns and I stored some rifles.

What are they starin' at?

Don't worry. From that angle,

they can't see under the table.

He couldn't have taken it, sir.

We both left together.

Someone must have lifted your keys.

I never should have gone to sleep.

You can't stay awake for the duration, Radar.

Even MacArthur went to sleep.

Only when he was being given orders.

Radar, we'll turn the camp inside out.

If it's here, we'll find it.

We're not gonna let you spend

15 years in the stockade.

15 years, sir?

Well, that's what you can get for this.

I'll be in my 30s.

That's almost dead.

-Father. -Colonel.

Is it possible to pray for a revolver?

A gun?

You want to pray for a gun?

-That's right. -Is it at least American?

Thanks.

Colonel Chaffey?

I'm Colonel Potter, C.O. Of the hospital.

Oh, and a fine one it is, Colonel.

You've taken good care of a lot of my people.

We've got a pretty good life-and-limb shop here,

but I, for one, wouldn't mind goin' out of business.

Lots of headaches?

I've got one right now

that you may have to take an aspirin for.

Your gun is missing.

Damn it! I had a feeling that that--

Stolen from the gun bin.

-Well, have you searched the base? -Thoroughly.

We've confiscated a ton of moonshine equipment,

a three-day-pass printing press,

and a cockfight training camp.

-But no gun. -Not yet.

Well, who was in charge of the gun bin?

-A corporal. -Corporal who?

What was the non-com-poop's name?

O'Reilly.

I want him, Colonel.

I'll get him.

Not the whole corporal.

Just his head... on a platter!

MAN : Attention, all personnel. Attention.

Tonight's movie is Kansas City Confidential.

This will be of special interest to anyone who missed it

when it was shown every night this month.

-Hi, Frank. -That's what you think.

-Got a minute, Frank? -For what?

-Nothing really. -Oh, you can have all that you want.

Ha ha ha ha ha!

-No funny stuff. -Us? Frank!

Last time we were alone,

you whitewashed my behind.

We've given up still lifes, Frank.

Take five, fellas.

Well, what do you want?

I mean, if it's money, I'm strapped myself.

We know, Frank.

You're sending 11 nephews through ballet school.

-It isn't money. -Oh, good.

-It's about a gun. -I haven't touched it.

-Touched what? -The gun.

-Which gun? -Whichever one you're talking about.

-Let us describe it. -Oh, that's fair enough.

That way you'll know what you're talking about.

That's not really necessary for me.

-Eh, it helps us. -Eh, suit yourself.

-The gun. -A collector's item.

-An old western six-shooter. -The steel is chromed.

-With bone handles. -Right.

-And I haven't seen it! -Radar says you did.

That miserable, little fink.

He's a dirty, rotten fibber!

It's congenital.

He's incapable of telling the truth.

Radar is a fibber?

That's right, a born liar.

-Radar? -Yes!

He says you didn't take it.

Well, why would he lie?

-Frank. -Well, what more do you want?

You've got his word against mine, and--

Frank, if that gun doesn't turn up,

Colonel Chaffey is gonna chuck Radar in the stockade.

I'm very fond of Radar, Frank.

He's both the child and pet I never had.

Well, what's that to me?

Frank, we know how you appreciate guns.

Isn't it possible, if you saw a unique old weapon,

you might just want to borrow it for a while,

-just to study it? -That's not what happened!

And then you just couldn't get it back in time

to get the heat off Radar?

Frank, don't make us get the whitewash.

Radar is innocent until proven guilty.

-Correct? -Correct.

But he and only he seems to be entitled

to that sort of consideration.

Correct?

Hah!

Don't you hate it when he's right?

Hmm.

Boy, you really gotta watch out for yourself in the army.

I found that out, boy.

It's every man for himself.

-How many beers you had? -One.

-Take it easy, huh? -It's okay.

I know just when to throw up.

Yeah, in the service, you got to cover up your you-know-what,

or you'll get it kicked.

You'll get your rear end kicked right in the butt.

You're telling me?

You're probably the only guy who understands.

I don't know how I smile through the makeup.

I just hope whoever swiped that gun

has a lot of fun with it.

I hope he has a lot of fun with it

while I'm spending 15 years in the stockade.

Ah, you ain't spending no 15 years.

15 years.

By the time I get out, I'll be a hardened "crinimal."

Take it easy. You're getting yourself all "morosed" up.

First they'll bust me,

and then they'll take away my stripes.

Do you know how proud I was to get them?

There's 400 kids in my old high school--

Ottumwa Central.

Ottumwa. Give me an O.

Give me a T-T-T.

When I made corporal after basic training,

I sent every one of them a picture of me in my stripes.

I sat in one of those four-for-a-quarter booths

and took 400 pictures of myself.

It cost me 25 bucks,

and I had to sit there for 16 hours.

But everyone got a picture.

And now they can just tear them up

because my corporal days are over.

15 years.

My earthworms will be dead and buried.

Things don't happen till they do, you know?

15 years!

I'm going to jail in my puberty,

and I won't come out till my adultery.

Attention, please. Colonel Potter speaking.

The result of our search for the missing Colt .45

has been one big goose egg.

The consequences can be serious.

If whoever stole the missing gun will give it back,

there will be no questions asked.

Your cooperation will be more than greatly appreciated.

Thank you.

Ahhh.

-Rats!

These are probably for his dumb bicycle.

Excuse me, sir, Colonel.

What is it?

My name is Radar O'Reilly.

I'm the guy who had his picture taken for 16 hours for nothin'

on account of your gun.

So you're the man responsible.

Yes, I am.

And I've got something to say,

no respect intended.

What do you need a gun like that for anyway?

Corporal, you're drunk.

You better believe it, Mister,

or I'm dead where you stand.

My bear went off!

Father! Was that a shot I just heard?

It may have been. It sounded like it.

But I don't want to start any unsubstantiated rumors.

But that's the scuttlebutt.

Thank you, Father.

-Who is it?

FRANK: It's me, Margaret.

-Open this stupid door! -Frank, what?

I've been wounded, Margaret.

-Help me. -Frank, where?

In the foot. I was... cleaning my gun... the Colt...

and it accidentally went off.

Frank, that's not your gun.

I was passing the supply room,

and I saw someone trying to put the colonel's gun back in the bin,

and I jumped him.

We struggled, and he shot me!

Or they did.

He may have been more than one person.

-Careful. -Okay, okay.

-Oh. -It just nicked the side.

Well, it hurts, Margaret.

It may not look bad, but it's killing me.

I have a low threshold of pain.

A hemorrhoid can put me into a coma.

-Frank. -Hmm?

-You stole that Colt! -I never!

It's just that I appreciate guns,

and it's a unique, old weapon.

So I wanted to borrow it... to study!

And then people misunderstood, so I put it back.

Only the key wouldn't fit, and it was dark.

You lied to me, Frank!

That's worse than stealing.

Well, I happen to think stealing is worse than lying.

And you did both!

So I ought to know.

Oh, my foot is throbbing, Margaret.

Oh, all right.

-I'll get some dressing. -No, please, later.

Let it quiet down out there first.

Ohhh.

I did a terrible thing, Margaret.

Oh, it's all right now.

I should have known better.

Well, at least you regret it.

Oh, never again.

When you steal something,

don't ever try to return it.

Sir.

Corporal, I'm glad we were together

when my gun was found.

Couldn't have proved better that you were guiltless.

And that I didn't do it either, sir.

Colonel, as one old soldier to another,

I'd lose that revolver. It's a troublemaker.

What do you suggest?

Drop it in the sea. Give it to a museum.

Put it under glass somewhere.

It's my gun. I'll keep it till I die.

And it won't surprise me a bit.

-Adios. -So long.

Feel better, Radar?

Except for my hangover, sir.

Everything's all jumpy and blurry.

I didn't have a drink,

and I got the same problem.

What's the matter, Frank? Kick a brick under a derby?

Maybe the gout, all that rich food.

Oh, it's, uh, an old football injury, if you must know.

It acts up once in a while.

I wouldn't use a bandage, Frank.

The powder burns will heal faster that way.

Well, of course they will. I know that.

Powder burns? What are you implying?

Nothing, Frank.

It was just a shot in the dark.

Check.

Ah.

Ha ha ha ha!