Original subtitles

I've been looking forward to lunch all morning.

-Breakfast here will do that. -Hey, Father.

How come when you gave up amateur boxing,

you didn't give up roadwork?

This is how I stay in shape.

You know what they say: "A body's a temple."

Then isn't it sacrilegious to be sweating all over it?

I prefer my way of staying in shape.

I can bench-press a five-ounce martini.

Well, just as you drink

to deal with life's frustrations, I run.

Although I will admit

today it's not working out so well.

I'm just coming back from the orphanage.

That place is falling apart.

They don't have enough heating fuel, enough food.

They don't even have a decent roof over their heads.

Bulletin! Bulletin! Hot news is good news.

Father, your legs are gonna have company.

What is it now, Klinger?

Jessup McFarland has been assigned to the 4077th.

Great! He can take my place, whoever he is.

Jessup McFarland just happens to be

a world-class hundred-yard-dash man from Ohio State.

This is amazing.

Just yesterday,

as I was elbow-deep in my sixth bowel resection,

it occurred to me.

What this hospital really needs

is a good hundred-yard-dash man.

But you don't understand.

He barely missed making the '52 Olympics

by a tenth of a second.

-Who cares? -What's with him?

Ah, you know how he is.

Little things get him down: war, orphans.

Well, I got just the thing to pick up everybody's spirits.

See, the 8063rd MASH

has a real good sprinter-- Earl LeMasters.

They love to sucker the other units

into putting somebody up to race against him.

Now we'll have McFarland,

but they won't know McFarland's coming.

-Get the picture? -Oh, sure.

We bet the 8063rd

that our best man can beat their best man.

Right.

They'll think we're being conned

'cause they won't know we've got McFarland.

-We'll get odds. -We'll clean up.

-Exactly. -Not interested.

-Me, neither. -Hey.

Aw, guys, this is a sure thing.

I need a doctor back here. I got some wounded engineers.

Corpsman at Battalion Aid said there's nothing real serious.

What happened?

You tell 'em, Porky.

We were b-b-b-building a bridge,

and some beams f-f-f-fell on us.

Th-Th-Th-That's all, folks!

-Hey, knock it off. -Come here.

The arm will be good as new, just as long as you don't try

to catch any more bridges with it.

Th-Th-Th-Th-Thanks.

Captains, I've been adding up some numbers.

Well, you better sit down. Your fingers must be exhausted.

Come on, you guys.

The 8063rd is just waiting to be plucked.

Pluck the 8063rd?

Yeah, like a dead chicken. We got a guy coming here

that can run rings around their ringer.

If everybody puts up one week's pay,

we can all clean up on the race of the century.

I'll give you a whole year's salary.

-You? How come? -I'd do anything

to get even with their head nurse

Major Judy Parker.

Or, as every sailor in the fleet

affectionately calls her, "Parallel" Parker.

Sounds like there's a wonderfully sordid story behind that, Margaret.

I don't want to go into any details,

but it has to do with the rather unsavory way

she commandeered the chief petty officer

from the U.S.S. Coral Sea.

I'm in for a week's pay. How about you stiffs?

-No, no, no. -No, thank you.

Come on. You two aren't gonna deny Major Houlihan

her inalienable right to revenge, are you?

Let her get even with her own money.

-You-- -I can't believe you guys.

McFarland took third in the N.C. 2 A's.

That's as close as you can get to the Olympics

without being singed by the torch.

Klinger, try to remember this. Forget it.

Please. Please, don't let this one get away.

Okay, okay, okay. Did anybody ever tell you

you're irresistible when you grovel?

Oh, thank you, sirs.

-I'll put up a day's salary. -So will I.

-BOTH: What? -Well, it's against my better judgment,

but usually my better judgment

is no better than my worse judgment.

Just a day's salary?

The 8063rd will laugh in our faces.

Come on, you creeps. Where's your guts?

-We gotta strike now-- -Yeah!

...before they know we've got McFarland.

We'll get great odds.

-Well? -Ah, what the hell.

All I'd do with a week's salary

is lose it in a poker game anyway. I'm in.

Me too. What I don't throw away here I send home to Peg,

and she throws it away on stuff like groceries and shoes for the kid.

You won't regret this. We're gonna walk out of this war rich men and woman.

God knows the only reason I came to Korea was for the money.

He's here. I got the money down

and the bets covered just in time.

-Here's your mail. -Uh, fine.

I'm looking for a Jessup McFarland.

Oh, he's inside.

Where is he? Where is my avenger?

He's in the truck. I still think

we should have gotten a band for this occasion.

Uh, which one of you is McFarland?

McFarland?

-How many more are still inside?

I'm it.

Well, where's Jessup McFarland?

We were told he was in there.

That's me.

I'm your new supply sergeant.

Can you help me with this, sonny?

And point a weary old soldier to his billet?

This guy could break the tape

without leaving the starting line.

You're Jessup McFarland, world-class sprinter?

Oh, you mean Jessie Junior?

That's my boy.

Just missed the Olympics by one tenth of a second.

People mix us up all the time.

That's him right next to me.

He's the thinner one.

I'd love to stay and chat,

but if I don't catch my afternoon nap,

I'm nothin'.

You jerk.

Klinger, prep yourself for surgery.

We bet a week's salary on a man

who's just healthy enough to be in the human race?

Who knew the kid had a father?

Captain Dr. Pierce, sir.

Klinger, you are not gonna get on my good side

because right now I don't have one.

I can't say that I blame you.

I guess I'd feel the same way if I were in your snit.

The handsome, dapper Dr. Major Winchester, sir.

Klinger, you don't have to suck up to me.

I didn't bet, and I don't like you anyway.

Thank you, sir.

Tape recorder material for you.

Must be some of that long-hair music.

Could you play it and soothe these savage beasts?

Sorry to disappoint you, Klinger.

This is another tape-recorded letter

from my sister Honoria.

At last, the words of an intelligent person.

Bye.

For the lovely and talented Major Houlihan.

Klinger, stuff yourself in an envelope

and mail it out of here.

Wonderful idea, ma'am. Goldman!

Aw, lighten up on him, folks.

It's in the lad's chromosomes

to ask for money.

The twerp told us that it was a sure thing.

Of course he did. It's an instinct.

Klinger goes for a dollar

like a puppy goes for a slipper.

Next time I'll swat him on the nose with a newspaper.

Better yet, an encyclopedia.

If Klinger is a jerk,

what does that make us for going along?

Fools who will soon be parted from their money.

Isn't there anyone else here

who can race against LeMasters?

About the only runner's legs we've got in camp

belong to the padre.

No good. We need a dash man.

Father Mulcahy takes the first three miles

to get out of low gear.

Hey, stupid.

Uh, yes, O Velvet Voice?

Just how long is this dumb race anyway?

Gee, we never really discussed it.

-Excuse me, doctor. -Yes?

-I'm Captain Sweeney. Engineers. -Hi.

You suppose I could talk to my men?

Well, I see no reason why not. They're doing very well.

-Hi, boys. How're you feelin'? -Fine, Captain.

Yeah, I guess we were kind of lucky.

And how about you, Palmer? You nice and comfy?

Y-Y-Y-Y-Yes, sir.

Oh, that's good

'cause I certainly wouldn't want it bothering you

that you almost cost three men their lives.

B-B-B-But I-- I had no way of knowing

that th-th-th-the b-bedrock w-was unstable.

Hell, I should have known better

than to give any kind of responsibility to a dummy.

I'm s-s-s-sorry, sir.

Well, a fat lot of good that d-d-d-does.

Excuse me, Captain Sweeney.

May I talk to you for just a moment, please?

-Sure, Major. What is it? -Right this way, please.

Okay.

Captain Sweeney,

if you say one more unkind word to Private Palmer,

I will personally write a report detailing your inhumanity,

and I will have it placed in your 201 file

where it will follow you for the rest of your career.

-But Major, that-- -Is that clear?

-Yes sir. -Thank you.

So you're the only hope we've got.

I'm sorry, I'm gonna have to say no.

-Chicken! -Margaret!

-I'm sorry, Father. -As a priest,

I don't think I should be a part of this kind of endeavor.

Pardon me, but aren't you the same Father Francis Mulcahy

who just last Thursday, in your priestly way,

laid down a king-high straight and said "Read 'em and weep"?

-Yes, but-- -And the same Father Mulcahy

who runs the hottest bingo game south of the 38th parallel?

-I'm afraid-- -Just answer the questions!

Okay, okay. Poker and bingo are one thing,

but to have the responsibility

for the money of others resting on my shoulders--

-Come on. -Cut the excuses,

Mr. Holier-than-thou. Just run!

If you don't do anything, the money's lost anyway.

And this way, at least we have a chance of winning.

It would be so much work.

Training for something like this is brutal.

You can't believe the pain.

But, uh, physical and ethical considerations aside,

what's in it for me?

What do you want?

-A roof? -Exactly.

Oh, we build them, all right,

but I'm not clear how this would work.

It's a bet. Father Mulcahy wants a roof for his orphanage.

If he wins, you build it.

And who's this priest runnin' against?

Earl "Jackrabbit" LeMasters.

Ah, him.

-Yeah, I heard he's fast. -Yeah.

And I only have to build this roof

if the priest beats the Jackrabbit?

-Right. Yeah. -So when, uh--

I mean, if the priest loses to the Jackrabbit,

then what do I get?

If he loses,

I'll give you a week's pay.

I don't know.

And so will these two doctors. Won't you?

Margaret, we're in this deep enough already.

That's why we've got to see it through.

That the kind of thinking

that's kept us in this war for three years.

You got a better idea, Jackson?

-Okay, it's a deal. -It's a deal.

I can't believe what we're doing.

Or how many times we've done it.

What's the matter?

BOTH: What's the matter?

If Mulcahy loses, we're out two weeks' pay.

-Each! Each! -You men.

You always worry about little things.

B.J.: Keep up the pace, Father. Only four more miles back to camp.

We'll be there quicker than you can say "Babe Didrikson Zaharias."

Four miles?

It doesn't have to be four.

We can take a detour through the minefield.

Ha...ha.

Come on, Father. Four miles is nothing.

-What's going on here?

-Any vital signs? -You can make it.

Four miles is nothing.

B.J.: Keep it up, Father.

HAWKEYE: Nothing keeps a runner's legs in shape like skipping rope.

I don't believe it.

This is the dopiest thing I've ever seen.

I can't help it.

I learned it in the third grade,

and this is the only way I can do it.

"A," my name is Arthur. My wife's name is Alice.

We come from Alabama, and we sell apples.

You sure you wouldn't like to eat some more before I take your tray?

Uh, I d-d-d-d-don't want any m-m-m-m-more.

Maybe you'd like me to just sit with you for a while.

You like knock-knock jokes? I just heard a good one.

Uh, n-n-n-n-no, thanks.

Okay. Well, I'll be back later if you change your mind.

Hey, Palmer, she likes you.

Why don't you ask her for a d-d-d-date?

Of course, by the time you get the question out,

she'll be married with six kids.

Good evening, Private.

-How are you feeling? -Okay.

-Well, everything here looks very good. -Great.

Is there, um, anything you need?

No. I'm off duty in about an hour.

If you'd like, I'll stop back.

We'll play a little, uh, gin rummy.

Believe me, I'm not nearly as good as I think I am.

Uh, I'm f-f-f-fine.

Could you p-p-please l-leave me alone?

Sure.

He doesn't look that great.

Is it too late to make this a spelling bee?

The whole thing spells disaster.

Margaret, why don't you just give me my money now

and let me go on over to the Officers Club?

I'm sure there's some good-looking guy over there

who's starved for an attractive woman.

Only one? Why don't you try them all?

-You've got an hour to kill.

Don't forget, Father,

a lot of folks have their wartime savings

riding on this.

A most comforting thought.

Padre, just do the best you can.

If you lose, don't worry about it.

Everybody'll survive.

In my own case, heck,

the Studebaker will last Mildred

for another couple of years.

Besides, double-clutching is good for her rheumatism.

Colonel, please don't try to boost my confidence anymore.

The church frowns on suicide.

Okay, everybody.

Uh, Private LeMasters, Father Mulcahy,

step over here, please.

POTTER: Attaboy, Padre!

Okay, you'll be racing from here

to the orphanage and back.

Approximately 12 miles. Just follow the markers.

There'll be checkpoints along the way.

And may the best man win. Run him into the dirt, Father.

I sure hope you win this one, Sherm.

I don't have the manpower

to build a new trophy case.

Crocker, don't count your trophies before they're won.

This ain't no sissy sprint, you know.

Are you kiddin'?

For LeMasters, 12 miles is a sprint.

-B.J.: He's all yours, Father. -KLINGER: Kick his butt.

On your mark!

Private Palmer?

N-N-N-Now what?

Oh, it's nothing critical.

Uh, Lieutenant, would you bring that wheelchair

over here for me, please?

Just want to take a few X-rays

and see how you're, uh, how you're mending.

Oh.

-Easy.

Tell you what. Why don't we--

here-- give Captain Marvel the rest of the day off.

Let him spend some time with Mrs. Marvel, all the little Marvels.

Will you?

Thank you, Lieutenant. I'll take it.

Like some water, son?

Sure, why not? I got plenty of time.

Nothing personal, Sherm, but your priest is awful slow.

Think maybe his beads are weighin' him down?

We got a sayin' back in Missouri:

Don't start skinnin' the catfish

till it's in the boat.

Sherm, this fish has already been boned and fried.

And eaten.

First time I've seen a fella come in fifth

in a two-man race.

Some water, please.

It's not impolite to drink and run, Padre.

You haven't lost yet. You'll wear him down.

He's just a sissy sprinter.

Here we are, Private.

There.

I don't see any X-ray m-m-machines.

Well, I must confess that the X-ray story was a ruse.

I d-d-d-d-don't understand.

I just thought it, uh, would be better if this conversation

took place out of earshot of your sniggering comrades.

I notice you're a devotee of comic books.

S-S-S-So?

So...nothing.

Uh, I'm all for losing oneself

in the pure adventuresome fun of a first-rate Captain Marvel.

You read C-C-C-C-Captain Marvel?

-Ever since he was a noncom.

Of course, there are other sorts of literature which one can enjoy.

Have you ever read the classics?

No. I'm, uh, too d-d-d-dumb for that stuff.

Ah. Quite the contrary. I have read your record.

You have an I.Q. that is well above average.

I can-can-can-can't even talk.

Palmer,

it so happens that there is no correlation

between intelligence and stuttering.

As a matter of fact,

some of the world's brightest people have been stutterers.

N-N-Name one.

I'll name you several.

Demosthenes, Thomas Jefferson

King George VI, Winston Churchill.

Even if I were sm-sm-smart,

n-n-no one would know it

'cause I c-c-can't say anything.

Palmer.

Walt.

The point is that you know it.

You can aspire to a world

that offers you a lot more than comic books.

I want you...

to have this.

It's Moby Dick.

That is a wonderful adventure.

I know. I r-r-read the c-c-classic comic book.

Uh, somehow, I suspect

that this version will cover aspects

that the other one didn't.

Th-This is real l-l-leather.

I can't take this.

Please.

I want you to have it.

That is worthy of your intelligence.

Thanks, M-M-Major.

How come you're d-d-d-doin' all this for me?

I think you should get some rest, uh, now.

There we are.

Easy on that stuff.

You don't want to carry all that extra weight

in your kidneys. Come on.

Easy on that stuff!

I gotta hand it to you, Father.

You're really runnin' your heart out.

It's for a good cause.

Oh, yeah?

HONORIA: My dear brother Charles.

It was wonderful to receive your latest t-t-t-tape.

I have so m-m-m-much to tell you.

Last night was the beginning

of the s-s-symphony s-s-s-season.

The guest, artist was P-P-P-Piatigorsky.

I've ordered some shoelaces.

I think I'll see if they're in.

-One more step and I'll lace your face. -Hey, look!

-He's catching him! He's catching him!

What did I tell you, Parker?

My Jessie Junior could beat both of them

with one leg tied behind his back.

Aw, eat cleats!

HAWKEYE: Come on, Father! Come on! Go, go, go!

Thank you, Allah. I'm alive and rich.

Well, Crocker, we may have the catfish,

but you got scrod.

-POTTER: That-a-boy, Padre!

You got him! You got him!

KLINGER: Come on, Father!

I will cross the line on one condition:

that all the winnings be donated to the orphanage.

Allah, talk to him. You speak the same language.

You don't have much time. Either donate it or lose it!

Just forget the money! Cross the damn line!

Father, where's your humanity?

Giving a guy's hard-earned money to a bunch of orphans.

Oh, quit your bellyaching, Klinger. All you lost was your winnings.

Then they're not winnings. They're losings.

In other words, thanks for nothing.

-Good race, Father. -You too.

-Wait a minute. I saw that. -So did I.

-MULCAHY: What? -That. What is all that?

-Yeah. He's taking his loss awfully well. -Yeah.

Wait a minute, Padre.

Back at the water hole, you were drowning.

The next thing I know, you're bustin' the tape.

I suspect there's some "cahootinizing" going on.

-Father. -Well, I could see

by the way LeMasters was toying with me,

I didn't have a prayer.

So, every time he let me get within earshot,

-I made conversation. -Conversation?

Oh, I talked about this and that--

the weather,

about how the rain would leak through the roof

and drench those freezing, starving orphans.

You know, just your average chitchat.

So he, uh, agreed to throw the race.

You didn't beat him, you browbeat him.

When I got to the finish line

I suddenly realized, what's a roof

without a good floor underneath it and walls to hold it up?

-Well, I really gotta hand it to you, Father. -Not bad.

I was bombing out until we got to the orphanage

and he saw those dear little faces cheering me on.

That's what really broke his will. Thank God.

But Father, we gotta strike now.

None of the other units know that you've won.

The 8228th has a guy they think is greased lightning

and he's not even as fast as LeMasters.

Klinger, will you please leave me alone?

I just want to put my winnings in the safe.

I don't want any part of your petty profiteering.

You're passing up a golden opportunity.

I saw the way you ran LeMasters into the ground.

The smart money will be on you,

except you and I will be the only smart ones.

Klinger, the smart money is going in there.

Father, you're a winner.

For your information, the race was fixed.

Fixed? I don't believe it.

Yes. LeMasters threw it for personal reasons.

I couldn't beat him in a car.

Boy, I'm glad you told me.

I could have made some very foolish bets.

Thanks. Thanks for telling me, Father.

Sparky? Sparky! All bets are off!