Original subtitles

Need some tape here.

Come on, step it up. I haven't got all day.

Wanna get that, please?

Yes, Doctor.

Almost finished.

You do nice work.

That's why I get the big money.

You know, I figured it out.

All the work I've done

divided by the time I've been in the army

comes to a nickel an operation.

-Lap sponge. -How you doin', B.J.?

Just about there. It's a nasty head wound.

Yeah, they're getting worse all the time.

FRANK: Well, that's war, jocko.

Gimme a hand here, will you, Father?

-Say the word. -Go.

More there.

Uh, give me a little Richardson.

No, the big one. No, no-no-no-no.

The-the-the little-- the little one.

Hold that door for us, will you, Klinger?

Post-op's all jammed, sir.

Let's put him against the wall, Father.

We ain't got one free bed.

You'd think we were a motel.

Sorry, Father.

Well, I know all about motels, Corporal.

Each man prays in his own way.

-Get an I.V. stand, Klinger. -Right.

Another boy from the 43rd.

Colonel Coner's outfit. He got hit

in one of the colonel's famous retrieval sweeps.

No more stands, Doc. What now?

Get a hammer. Let's nail this to the wall.

Boy, I wish I had your brains.

-I wish I had your beauty. -There is that.

Our friend Colonel Coner

specializes in trading warm bodies for cold.

He'd send a whole division behind enemy lines

in order to pick up what used to be one human being.

Uh, hold this, will you, Father?

Some awful funny people running this war.

Sometimes I'm sorry I bought tickets for it.

I'll see you in a bit.

HAWKEYE: Three-O silk on a Keith needle.

-Three-O silk.

-Oh... -Need a hand, Frank?

I don't need a hand from anyone.

His own two lefts are enough.

-Mind if I watch? -Makes me no never mind.

-Oh, Colonel Potter. -Here.

There's something that's been bothering me

for some time now, sir.

Very simple, Frank.

A mommy and a daddy love each other very much.

Now, the daddy has a seed...

Put a bridle on it, Pierce.

-What's on your mind, Burns? -Trash.

Sir, I am keenly aware

of the garbage in this camp.

There are tin cans, eggshells,

pus-y old bandages,

germy tongue depressors by the bushel.

It's dumped the regulation 25 yards from the camp

and poses no threat to hygiene.

But we're wasting our waste, sir.

The locals are stealing it.

They need it to survive, Frank.

Well, they're not entitled to just walk off with it.

Frank's right. You give these people a taste of our garbage,

next they'll want New Jersey.

Now, what I'm suggesting is that we charge them for it.

Make 'em pay for every rind, every drop of swill.

You wanna open some sort of bilious boutique, Frank?

No, but I do have a plan.

This isn't what I'd call table talk, doctors.

See me later, Burns.

It'll be a pleasure, sir.

Maybe for you.

Finished.

Who'd have thought perfection could be so boring?

-Doctor? -Hmm?

-What are you doing after? -Please.

Put a note on the bulletin board like everyone else.

I'll give you a nickel.

Sold. I'm so easy.

Captain Hunnicutt.

I was just walking by and I noticed this gizmo

came disconnected from the thingamabob

and it wasn't dripping into the doohickey right.

You lost me with all the technical terms, Radar,

but I get the picture.

Is he gonna be all right, sir?

He will now.

Whew.

-Radar? -Yes, sir?

You may have just saved his life.

Really? Gee, I didn't mean to.

Well, wh-who would've thought I could? Gee.

Come on. Help me see if we can get him into post-op.

Yes, sir.

Do you have a license to troll for surgeons?

Or is that roll with sturgeons?

Right this way, my dear.

You will be gentle.

The army's ruinin' my hands, you know.

Mm-hmm.

My hands are my best feature.

When I was born,

my father took one look and said to my mother,

"Thanks a lot for the eight-pound baby nose."

And my mother said, "His hands, Amos.

"Look at his hands. He's a musician."

What do you think my old man did?

Went right out,

stole a violin and stuck it in my crib.

I was one week old. What did I know from violins?

I started suckin' on the bridge.

No kiddin'. I'm not kiddin'.

I believe you.

What's wrong?

What's wrong, what's wrong?

You look happy, that's all.

I never see a happy face in the army

outside the latrine.

Well, I-I was helpin' Captain Hunnicutt

before with a patient, you know?

Yeah?

And, uh, the guy's I.V. bottle went all snafu-y.

And so I, uh, fixed it up,

and Captain Hunnicutt says to me, he says to me,

uh, "Radar, you may have saved his life."

You wanna save another life?

Huh?

Don't eat that food.

What's the matter with it?

You ever pull kitchen duty?

No, I've been lucky.

Oh, it's beautiful.

You don't know the conditions.

They paint over the cockroaches.

If you ever saw what they put in the hash,

you'd go screaming into the night.

And later you just might.

Oh, I don't care.

I saved a guy's life.

Is he still in the army?

Of course.

Some saving.

Our garbage is the mainstay of the local economy, sir.

I don't think you realize how much valuable material

is being looted from our trash heaps.

I guess I just don't have your head for garbage, Burns.

The late Colonel Blake said

I was the best rubbish officer we'd ever had.

The man knew talent when he saw it. Smoke?

-Uh, would you like me to, sir? -Never mind.

What do you think, sir? Garbage-wise.

I'm not gonna make any decision

until Radar gives me a breakdown of the situation.

Radar. You got some poop on the garbage--

Sir, I've been going through the files.

-I got the poop on our garbage. -Shoot.

"The typical sample of this hospital's waste products

"contains expended medical supplies,

"i.e., e.g., tongue depressors..."

Oh, they can take a few hundred of those and make a hooch.

I've heard a Korean landlord will kill for the chance

to subdivide a packing crate.

"A few hundred yards of used and bloody surgical gauze."

Oh, that can be washed out

and used to make summer clothing.

Go on.

"Some stretched-out nurses' bras."

They can use those for hammocks, right?

You shut up.

Don't be abusive.

I'm sorry, Colonel. It's just my nature.

Enlisted men have feelings, you know.

I keep forgetting that, sir.

You want me to continue, Colonel?

No. I have no interest in hearing a refuse recital.

Burns, what are you leading up to?

Sir, it's un-American to get nothing for nothing.

Now, I propose we auction our garbage off

to local contractors.

I'd let it go to the highest bidder.

That's ridiculous.

As per Pentagon Directive, uh, N/R/358/9-A.

The Trashy Substances Act, sir.

Really?

Burns, some men are born to greatness.

Others have garbage thrust upon them.

-You've got it. -I won't let you down, sir.

There's no way you can.

Uh, congratulations, Major.

NURSE: Hawkeye.

Hawkeye.

What are you laughing? It's not funny.

-Don't worry about it. -I'm not worried.

-It can happen to anyone. -So let it.

Let it happen to anyone.

Just don't let it happen to me.

Come on. Sit back.

-Maybe a drink. -Hm-mm.

It's almost ready to be drunk.

I hear tomorrow's a very good year.

I don't think liquor's the answer.

You know, what just didn't happen here

has never not ever happened before.

Well, maybe you just don't find me attractive.

Oh, that's true.

Except for your face, your mind and your body,

-you're a complete dud. -Come here.

Careful. I have to give them back after the war.

Relax.

You know, what I think's happened

is the damned army has started putting coffee

in my saltpeter.

It's thrown my whole system off.

Mmm. Tell me about it.

How 'bout an Oreo first?

Shh! My wife.

RADAR: Hawk. Hawk?

She always hawks like that. Yes, dear?

Captain B.J. wants you in post-op.

Radar, can't it wait?

What happened to your voice?

I got a new pair of shorts from home.

Sorry to leave you in mid-grope like this,

but Hippocrates calls.

When will you be back?

Before you can whistle "Carmen."

Uh, sorry to interrupt you.

That's okay, Radar.

You saved me from contusions of the ego

and compound embarrassment.

-How's your patient? -He's really Radar's.

He alerted me to his condition.

I had a hamster back home

used to get the same look in his eyes

when he wasn't feeling good.

Let me see his chart.

You can go get some lettuce.

He's less responsive.

B.P.'s going up, pulse dropping...

signs of increased intracranial pressure.

-I'd stick close for a while. -Right.

-Can I too? Stick close? -Of course.

And if you have to, I'd put in another burr hole.

Fair enough.

That sound right to you, Radar?

Huh? Oh, yeah, sure.

Sounds pretty good to me.

What do you think?

Should we get a second corporal's opinion?

Should we ask some people in,

or should we just be boring on our own?

Whatever.

You're not drinking?

-I think I'll stop for a while. -Mm.

Getting nasty notes from my liver.

I've never seen you wear those.

Oh, I never do.

If you wear 'em, they get dirty.

If I keep washing 'em, they stay clean forever.

They're actually just to remind me of better times.

Argyle socks, angora sweaters,

Woody Herman, fumbling in rumble seats.

Rumbling in fumble seats.

That too.

What do you think of Nurse Able?

If I wasn't married,

I'd start nibbling at Nurse Able's toes

and stop when I got to her hairpins.

There is something there to arouse a male.

Unless he's been dead six months.

She was in here before...

um, with me, alone.

That's one of the worst kept secrets of the war.

She was in here before and, uh...

I, uh...

uh...

couldn't.

Couldn't what?

The big "couldn't."

Oh, that "couldn't."

Oh, maybe I tried too hard.

Maybe I didn't try hard enough.

Maybe it was her perfume.

Maybe it was mine.

She looks a little like my mother.

Maybe Oedipus wrecked it for me.

Look, it's perfectly understandable.

You've been going full tilt since you got here.

Your nerves are brittle enough to use for kindling.

-Tension. -The war.

Happens to everyone. Right.

Ever happen to you?

Never.

Fink.

We got fresh wounded in pre-op, sirs.

Right. Thanks, Klinger.

Don't thank me. Thank the Chinese.

-Hi, Frank. -I'm doing the best I can.

-What have we got? -Oh, chest wounds here,

leg wounds there. I've seen worse.

Only after you get through with them.

-Doctors.

I want my boys to have the best.

These guys from your unit?

I'm Colonel Coner.

Oh, yeah.

The famous advance man from Forest Lawn.

Oh, pay no attention, sir.

Their sense of patriotism is stunted.

Comes from smoking too many flags.

Let's get started on this guy.

Nothing personal, Colonel.

Just that we don't appreciate

your making so many dead soldiers

out of live soldiers

by trying to retrieve so many dead soldiers.

Every one of our fallen boys deserves an American coffin.

Prep him.

Do me a favor, Colonel.

If you find out I've died,

just let me lie there in the crabgrass.

I don't wanna help you make the cover of Life.

Or Death. Whichever comes first.

Let's get an X-ray on him, huh?

Well, shall we repair the effects of heroism?

After you, my dear Schweitzer.

-Hi. -Hi.

-I'm just going off. -I'm just going on.

You okay now?

Yeah. I was a little upset for a while,

-but it's passed. -For sure?

Well, at least my mouth is still working.

Okay, now we need a green piece for the sunglasses.

Hmm, is this it?

No. It looks sort of like, uh, Italy

but with a low heel.

Where were you originally born?

I mean, as a child.

Chicken Falls, South Dakota.

Twenty miles from Mount Rushmore.

Oh, hey, I was there.

-Yeah? -Yeah.

Army was cleaning out Lincoln's nose.

-Oh, that's an earlobe. -Oh.

I can't wait to get back home.

Yeah, me, neither.

You know, once I called that number

to get the time in Kansas City.

I listened for over an hour.

Really made me feel a lot better, too.

What do you miss the most about back home?

The most?

Yeah, one thing.

Oh.

Well, the grass, I guess.

Or the sky.

Everything.

Yeah.

-Radar? -Oh, yes, sir.

Where have you been hiding?

Oh, I was just helping out with Private Phelan, sir.

Did you order the new specimen bottles?

Oh, yes, I did, sir.

Let's watch this batch. Don't let any damn fool

try to play songs on 'em again.

How 'bout the V.D. films?

Uh, I ordered two new ones, sir.

Uh, Clean As a Whistle

and Buy You a Drink, Sailor?

Fine. What about those notes I left on my desk--

Also, I typed those notes you left--

-...to be typed last night? -...on your desk last night.

-My notes on equestrian etiquette? -Yes, sir.

They're in your in basket

underneath your toenail clippers.

Hmm.

Uh, sir?

Why do women ride sidesaddle?

Would you marry a woman that didn't?

No, sir.

How are you feeling, son?

Okay, sir.

He's gonna be just fine.

Thank you, Doctor O'Reilly.

That's an elbow.

Oh, yeah. Hey.

Wow. Look at that.

It's gonna be Jane Russell. See?

Uh, can we do this later, Radar?

I'm gettin' kinda tired.

Oh, yeah, sure.

Well, we couldn't have finished it anyway.

Major Houlihan confiscated all the best parts.

-Colonel Potter. -Burns.

I just wanted you to know I'm about to hold

my first garbage auction, sir.

Fine.

Would you like to see it?

No, thanks. I'll wait till the movie comes out.

The least you could do is wish me luck.

Luck.

How do I look?

Almost lifelike.

All right, gentlemen, right this way.

Please take a seat. Any seat.

Come on. Mush. Chop-chop.

Now, may I have your attention?

First, let me welcome each and every one of you,

wish you joy and, uh, chang-yo.

-"Chang-yo"? -Yeah.

You wish each of us a prostitute?

I must have looked up the wrong word.

We don't mind.

Well, I meant "prosperity."

Worked out the same.

All right, let's not get carried away, huh?

I guess people will always think it's funny

when one of their betters makes a mistake.

Now, you've all had a tour of the camp garbage dump,

and you have seen for yourself

that America throws away only the best.

Now, this waste will be auctioned off today,

and similar auctions will be held once a month.

Twice a month when it gets warmer.

Hey, we're not too late for the big garbage sale, are we, Frank?

I wanna get a little something for my apartment.

Oh, a Chippendale orange peel

would be perfect for my breakfast nook.

All right, here we go.

Now, how much am I bid for lot number one--

150 pounds of prime U.S. Army

grade-A garbage? Hmm?

He could sell brass knuckles to Gandhi.

Fifty. Do I hear fifty dollars?

One buck.

One buck. Do I hear one and a half?

One and a half. Very good.

One seventy-five, seventy-five, seventy-five. Anyone?

Listen, Beej, whatever the highest bid is,

bid five over it for me, okay?

You're gonna buy this garbage?

-Really? -Really.

What are you going to use it for?

Well, if I tell you now,

then you won't be surprised at Christmas.

Two seventy-five. Three dollars. Three dollars.

Do I hear fifty?

Right on time.

Oh, thank you.

You sure you don't mind being seen with me?

Of course not.

Some girls feel strange with married men.

Ohh.

Hi, kid.

I did everything I could, Radar.

How could he be alive like that one second and dead the next?

There's not much more than that in it.

It's not fair.

Fair's the last thing it is.

I mean, you operated on him twice.

The damage was just too extensive.

I could give you a lot of medical reasons, but...

understanding doesn't make it less painful.

Oh!

We got to be friends...

in just a few hours.

Friends don't need more.

Gee, I hope I don't cry.

It's no sin, Radar.

When was the last time you felt like crying, sir?

What time is it?

Very good, sir. You hit the ground.

Oh, afternoon, Pierce. Try your luck?

I used to play as a youngster.

Well, have a go.

Finally stopped when I realized my right arm

had become three inches longer than my left.

Good try. In '25,

I made the semifinals at Fort Dix.

I aced out a 300-pound supply sergeant.

He blubbered like a baby.

Don't try so hard. Let it go a little later.

-Good. -Thank you.

Bang on target.

First time I scored in days.

Been a rough one?

Well, about normal.

We're tossing horseshoes, and four miles away

-they're tossing grenades. -Uh-huh.

Frank's selling prewar garbage at postwar prices

to people who can't even afford the ground they're eating off.

-Uh-huh. -And I'm impotent.

Uh-huh.

I think I see your problem.

Aim two feet beyond the stake.

You've gotta learn to unwind, son.

When's the last time you really let go of the reins?

The back of a fruit truck...

on a pile of rotting peaches.

I had a copy of Fanny Hill.

The truck went over a bump and I was in heaven.

You need a hobby.

I toss horseshoes.

The wife needlepoints migratory fowl.

Grandpa Roy whistles moose calls.

I knew a woman collected clippings of mine shaft accidents.

There you go. If it's any comfort to you,

I had the same problem in World War I.

-And you got over it? -Mm-hmm.

But not until World War II.

-Aha.

Want some more coffee?

Uh, no, thank you.

Army coffee has made me a soprano.

- Colonel? -Please.

Listen to this. "The fastest amputation in medical history

"was performed by Dr. R. Liston in 1801

"without an anesthetic.

"It took 33 seconds and cost the assistant

"three fingers by his master's saw."

I like a heavy tipper.

Morning.

-Morning. -Morning.

Major Burns said I'm fit to leave.

Major Burns is an expert on fits.

I ordered your jeep, Colonel.

-Be ready in a minute. -Boy, I'm starved.

Extracurricular carnage really builds up an appetite.

Private Phelan died last night, Colonel.

Who? Phelan?

Gerald Phelan. He was one of yours.

Wounded last time he went out looking for coffin refills.

I remember that mission.

We retrieved every Joe that bought it on Hill 911.

And how many men did you lose?

Our losses were insignificant.

How many kids in an insignificant?

Two.

Phelan makes three.

We knocked out 15 or 20 Reds, old buddy.

That makes my kill ratio eight and a half to one.

Maybe nine and a half.

-Do I hear ten?

Sold to the grim reaper in the third row.

Good morning, Colonel. Colonel.

My, we have a lot of colonels here.

Yeah, we're up to our brass in 'em.

You know, I used to think you were clever

till you bought all that garbage at the auction.

-You bought the garbage?

Well, you said get a hobby.

Captain Pierce,

Colonel Coner's jeep's ready, sir.

Everything's ready, sir.

Well, I guess it's about that time.

Well, have a nice trip, Colonel.

Yes.

Colonel.

Colonel.

Come on.

What's going on, Pierce?

I thought we'd give Colonel Coner

an appropriate aloha.

Well, what are we lookin' at?

Beautiful! Beautiful! A Tintoretto in barf.

I had dreams like this all through puberty.

I didn't see any of it, but I loved it.

You're a pistol.

That's my garbage.

No, no, it's my garbage, Frank.

-I got a receipt. -Oh, for...

Hey, buy you a drink, sailor?

Uh, not right now, thank you.

I got the time if you still got that nickel.

All I've got's a quarter.

No problem. I think I can make change now.

-How'd your date go?

-I don't kiss and tell. -Sorry.

It was terrific.

Now, look, sir. We charge the men

a dollar each for helicopter rides.

Add that to our garbage income,

and we'll be in the black inside a year.

This is a hospital, Burns.

I don't want us listed on the Stock Exchange.