[Man On P.A.] Attention, all personnel.
The winner of this month's lottery...
Sergeant Arthur T. Williams...
will receive a high colonic, worth $9.
Congratulations, Sergeant, and don't spend it all in one place.
And that's another thing I'm going to change around here! No more gambling.
Frank, it does give the men something to look forward to every month.
Margaret, you're beginning to sound like Blake, soft.
Nonsense! I want this place to be as G.I. As you do.
What a slob that man was, may he rest in peace.
Another of my new regulations:
Under no circumstances will enlisted men use the officers' latrine.
- They've been sneaking in at night, you know? - How can you tell?
One knows where one's own kind has been.
Major Frank Burns, commanding officer.
A boyhood dream come true:
My own command, you at my side...
an incoming box, an outgoing box.
War. God help me, I love it.
[Giggles]
I better get this new regulation posted.
Corporal! Corporal O'Reilly!
He left the minute the mail came in.
I ordered him to bring me the mail first, the little sneak!
No respect.!
I'll teach those dirty, little, enlisted rats to love me.
- Ah! Done. Nice little bar. - Right in our own neighborhood.
- What do we call it? - It's in the corner. Let's call it The Corner Bar.
[Chuckles] It's been used.
I got it! "Frank's Bed," now doing business as "Joe's Bar and Grill."
- If my wife calls, I'm not here. - [Chuckles]
- Henry would've loved this. - Fair man with a bottle, you say?
Henry? He could have been a comparison drinker.
The man was born with a spare tank.
I really miss him.
How about the Henry Blake Memorial Bar?
I'll buy that.
Let's break it in. I'll throw out the first drunk.
With any luck it'll be me.
[Knocks] Sirs?
- Yes, young man. How many in your party? - Huh?
You can see, we're jammed. If you give us your name, we'll have you paged here at the bar.
The couple at table 27 are leaving.
Busboy, set up table 27 for the young man in the green tuxedo.
We usually hold it for Cesar Romero, but he sprained his mustache.
- Sirs, with your permission, would you stop horsing around? - You hate the table.
- The table's fine really. - Can I fix you a Shirley Temple or a Roy Rogers?
- Is it true about those two? - Come on, would yous? Shh.
We're getting a new commanding officer.
- Frank's out? - Shh!
- Great! - Great? I've been sticking pins in my Frank Burns doll for a year.
- Colonel Sherman Potter, surgeon, medical... USA! - Regular army?
- Career man. - Trouble?
An army doctor! He'll have people bleeding by the numbers.
He's gotta be a loser, otherwise why would they dump him in a MASH?
A career man. That's even worse than Frank, who's neither one nor the other.
How'd he take it? Frank?
Are you kidding? My palms are sweating off. I'm afraid to tell him.
- You'd better show him the orders, Radar. - He'll hit me.
- Come on. - He's been murder on me.
Making me shave... He makes me bathe!
The man has no respect for crud. Let's go with him, B. J.
- A pleasure. - Would you really? That's terrific.
Hold table 27.
No, no, no, Sergeant.
From now on, you will not simply slop food onto these trays.
- Look at this random arrangement, Major. - I'm looking.
The kidney beans have slopped from the bean compartment into the applesauce compartment.
The dehydrated potatoes are in the every compartment.
It's no wonder I never have an appetite.
Sergeant, I want standardization of compartment usage. When I look down a table at trays...
I want to see beans, beans, beans, beans!
Potatoes, potatoes, potatoes.!
- Applesauce, applesauce, applesauce! Got that? - Yes.
- Yes, what? - Yes, sir.
Yes, sir, what?
Yes, sir, yes, sir, three bags full?
Where's the mail? It got here ten minutes ago.
- I've got it, sir. - Is there anything for me?
Um, nothing from Mrs. Burns, sir.
- I don't care what I didn't get. - No, sir.
What did I get?
- Here's a card from your veterinarian. - Time for your rabies shot.
- Wisenheimer. Shouldn't you be eating or something? - We had a cupcake on the train.
- I've warned you, Hunnicut. Don't let this man corrupt you. - I'm doing my very best, sir.
What else is there, Corporal?
Your service station back home is having a free buffet to open their new lube rack.
They're gonna be having punch, balloons and Greasy the Clown.
Oh, what's this? It looks official.
Um, oh, you're being replaced, sir.
What?
Smelling salts for two, Doctor.
This is outrageous! It's completely unfair.
Oh, no, Major. This is not an unusual occurrence at all.
This is the way the army is run. We're all merely cogs in a giant military medical machine.
Each cog occasionally has to lose a tooth on the gear oflife.
If you'll all excuse me, I'd best prepare for the change of command.
You took that so well. I'm very proud of you.
- Que sera, sera. - It was a blow below the belt.
We've both had our share of those.
No, no, no, no! It's not fair! It's not fair!
It's my MASH. It's mine! It's mine! Mine, mine mine!
- I know, darling. There, there. Shh. - I already wrote Mommy.
- Your mother will understand. - I mean, my wife.
Buzz off!
You'll all be sorry when I'm gone. You'll see!
- Sorry, Henry. - Another national monument destroyed.
Come on! It's hot. I'm ruining my arm shields.
Major Burns's bed back, sirs.
Oh, gee.
It's a shame about the bar. I was only there once, but I really loved it.
All right. Gangway, mister.
Corporal O'Reilly, take your moving party. Get the rest of my things from the C.O.'s office.
Another week in command, and I'd have had you out of that dress.
I'm not that easy.
Welcome home, Frank. We kept your lice right where you left 'em. What's this?
My personal papers during my tenure as commanding officer.
When this war is history, I'll donate them to my college library.
They'll not only benefit humanity, but, uh, they're tax deductible.
That's classified!
"From Frank Burns, commanding officer, to Sergeant Zale, supply."
An order to glue a cracked bedpan?
History, Frank? Benefit humanity, Frank?
"To the mess sergeant, Hereafter, you will drain the oil from tuna fish."
- Every thousand miles. - Fine thanks, I get.
I took a sloppy, slipshod organization...
and turned it into a smooth-running model of efficiency.
I'm tossed aside! What are you gonna do with all this junk?
Donate it to my college.
- [Vehicle Approaches] - [Horn Beeps]
Stick that horn in your ear.
On your feet, soldier. I'm Colonel Potter.
Oh, my...
I'm sorry, sir. I had no idea you were who you are, Colonel Potter, sir.
- Get my gear, son. - Yes, sir. Your permission to cover up my "nakedidity"?
- Right. You got a name? - Yes, sir. Corporal O'Reilly, company clerk.
I'm sorry about this, sir.
Saddle goes in my office. That box in my office. The rest in my tent.
Yes, sir.
- What were you doing with that shiny cardboard? - Getting a tan, sir.
- That sun'll rip the hide right off of you. - Yes, sir. I was...
- You expecting a horse later, sir? - Wish I were.
I've had this saddle since my cavalry days in the Great War.
- World War I, sir? - 15 years old. Lied about my age.
Had big thighs for a boy.
I want that filing cabinet over there...
over there.
Colonel Blake tried it over there, but he found it worked better over there.
I think you'll find it works better for you too, sir. Over there, sir.
- Blake's gone, son. I'm here. I'll have it over there. - Over there.
Get some help. I don't want a ruptured company clerk.
Yes, sir. I'll do the best I can, sir. Klinger, no!
I saw him pull in. This is my chance!
- He's got a saddle. - I don't care.
- He's regular army. - And I'm regular crazy.
Colonel Potter, sir. Corporal Klinger.
I'm section eight, head-to-toe. I'm wearing a Warner bra.
I play with dolls. My last wish is to be buried in my mother's wedding gown.
I'm nuts. I should be out.
Horse hockey.
I've seen these dodges for 40 years, all the tricks.
Knew a private, pretended he was a mare. Carried a colt in his arms for weeks.
Another fellow said he was a daisy. Insisted we water him every morning.
No, no, Corporal. It ain't gonna go with me.
Now you get out of that froufrou and into a uniform.
And you stay in uniform. Dismissed!
Radar, I'm finished. I gotta burn my bloomers.
I see him around sometimes.
- Right here will be fine. - Yes, sir.
- I wanna see my officers. - Yes, sir.
Why, uh, "Radar"?
Oh, well, uh...
sometimes I can tell what's gonna happen before it happens.
- Is that so? - Yes, sir. The officers' latrine is to the right, sir.
- Thank you. - You're welcome.
## [Whistling]
[Feedback]
Sorry, camp.
Attention, by command of the new commanding officer...
all officers report to the commanding officer's office, sirs.
Father Mulcahy.
Oh, yes. Of course.
Uh-huh. Mm-hmm.
- Uh-huh. You're clean. - Thank God, sir.
- Catholic? - Yes, sir.
Can you do a Methodist thing for me on Sunday?
- I handle all denominations, Colonel. - Any other Methodists in the outfit?
- Two or three. - Good. I hate to sing alone.
- Major Houlihan. - Sir!
- Chief nurse. - Yes, sir.
- Ten years, spotless record. - Thank you, sir.
Major Frank Burns.
Just friends, sir.
I mean, he's not here, sir. He's indisposed.
- Captain Pierce. - Yo!
Keep your yo's to yourself.
Tsk, tsk, tsk.
- Captain Hunnicutt. - Yes, sir.
You two were reprimanded by Major Burns for setting fire to the latrine.
- That was an accident. - We were having a weenie roast.
- In the latrine? - We're not allowed to cook in our tents, sir.
Also, Pierce, it says here...
you had a live chicken flown here by helicopter, claiming it was a patient.
That was a rare bird, Colonel. It could tap-dance.
And a year ago the Tokyo provost marshal claims you stole a steam shovel.
I couldn't get a cab.
- I gather you drink. - Only to excess.
Colorful officers, I must say. That is one thing I do not need.
I would greatly appreciate it if, for the next 18 months, you keep your noses clean.
Dismissed!
It's terrific of Frank to put all that stuff in our service records.
Just where is No Lips?
He left. He was so upset when he didn't get the command. He just took off.
- You're kidding! Frank's run away from home? - Shh! No. Not a word.
- Oh, okay. I won't say anything. Not a word. - My lips are sealed.
- Attention, all personnel. You won't believe this, camp. - Oh, Pierce!
- Hello, camp. Are you there, camp? - Pierce. Pierce.
Would you, please? I'm trying to say...
Think Potter will object to the still?
If he makes me get rid of it, I'm gonna get into one of Klinger's dresses.
- Not while he's wearing it, I hope. - We'll see.
- Sirs? - Speaking of Mrs. Devil.
What's the matter? What's with the arms and legs?
Look! Ah! Wherever my uniform covers me, I got a rash.
- You ever been allergic to cotton? Wools? Synthetics? - No, sir. Ah!
Now for the $2 question. Have you been over to Rosie's Bar to visit a business girl?
No, no. They don't like me. They're jealous of my clothes.
- Have your freckles been moving from one spot to another? - Oh, no.
If you're referring to tiny livestock, sir, I'm very careful about that. Ah!
Rash ends where the uniform ends.
- Psychosomatic? - Elementary.
Started the minute I got out of my civvies.
- Civvies! That's it. - Civvies! Of course.
Your ladies' clothes are your defense against the system.
- What do I do? - Simple!
Take two aspirin and wear your best slip next to your skin.
Is that an order, sir?
- Why not? - Thank you, sir! [Whimpers]
- Straighten Lillie Bell. She's crooked. - Oh.
That's Royal King! Can't you tell a mare from a stallion?
- Sorry, sir. I'm good at hamsters. - Hamsters?
All they ever do is eat lettuce and make jelly beans.
Yes, sir. What do you want me to do with this lady's picture, sir? Up here?
No, no. That's Mrs. Potter. She always goes on the right side of my desk.
- Oh. Nice lady, sir. - Five sisters, and not a bum in the lot.
Right on the right side.
Good. I never start a day without throwing Mrs. Potter a salute.
Or, in lieu thereof, Mrs. Potter's picture.
- Thank you. - Welcome.
Good conduct medal with a clasp. Only an enlisted man can get one.
- MacArthur hasn't got one. Bradley neither. - Wow!
It sure is nice to know that you were once as common as I am, sir.
- What is it? - Choppers, sir.
- I don't hear anything. - [Helicopter Approaching]
Choppers.!
[Radar on P.A.] Attention.! Attention, all personnel. Incoming wounded.
Both shifts to O.R. On the double. Incoming wounded.
Let's go. Let's go, people.
Coming, sir.
- What did you find out? - He's mostly administration.
- He hasn't been in an operating room for two years! - Terrific.
Margaret, if this guy's a klutz, if he gets into any trouble, give me a nudge. Or B. J.
- Right. Corporal is it dark outside yet? - Almost, ma'am.
- Who cares? - Major Burns.
He might be cold. Or hurt. Or lost.
Major, he's throwing a temper tantrum.
He'll come home when he gets hungry, Mommy.
- You ready? - I hope so.
This way to the body and fender shop!
[Chattering]
Clamp.
Right in there.
Done! Get him into post-op.
Start him on 600,000 units of penicillin, V.I.P. Litter!
- Next! - Hold the clamp.
- How you doin'? - You don't get many bellies like this back home.
Comes from eating too many bullets.
- Close. I've got two Penrose drains in him. - Yes.
- How's he doing? - So far, fine. Simple operations.
Keep your eye on him.
[B.J.] Four-oh silk.
- May I? - Sure, Colonel.
I'd resect that area of small intestine. It may be ischemic.
Planning to do that, Colonel, just as soon as I get this bleeding stopped.
- Uh-huh. - Clamp.
- How's the rash? - Upstairs, terrible. Downstairs, okay.
- How come? - Wearing a half-slip.
Clamp.
- Got a bad bleeder here. - Oh, my Lord!
Retract that a bit more.
Get some suction in there. Suction!
Give me that. Can you get that bowel out of the way?
- I need some help here. - Pack it off.
Keep the pressure on it. You're not gonna lose him.
Ah, you're doing just fine, son.
- Little more suction, Nurse. - [Suction Hisses]
- Thank you, Doctor. - Yeah, that's coming along.
Put him under.
Colonel, you did a nice job with that kid in there.
You handled the rough part.
They were pretty shaky going in, I gotta tell ya.
Sittin' behind a desk for two years, I thought I mighta' lost my touch.
I guess surgery's like a bicycle. Once you learn it, you never forget.
Nice to know there's a little pizzazz left in the old digits.
- What time is it? - 3:30 a.m.
I could use a belt.
Colonel, Captain Hunnicutt and I know just the place.
- Checkered tablecloths, candlelight... - Out here? Pizza?
- No, but you can chew on a rubber glove. - [Chuckles]
- Talk about your backs. - Here, turn around.
- Oh! Dandy. - Uh-huh?
Learned that from an old Arab. He liked flat camels.
- [Clang] - [Men Laughing]
[Laughing Continues]
[Whispering] Margaret! Margaret!
Margaret! It's me, Frank.
Frank! Oh, Frank, my darling.
Are you all right? Where have you been?
What happened to you? I've been worried sick!
It was awful out there. All dark. I was hungry.
- A dog chased me and bit my duffel bag. - Poor darling.
- What happened to your clothes? - I fell down.
Oh, there, there.
Oh, it's so good to be home. Oh!
- Did anybody miss me? - I did, sugar.
What about the colonel? And Pierce? And Hunnicutt?
- Did they even care? Were they upset? - Of course they were.
- Margaret, I know this isn't the time to ask. - Ask, darling.
But after stumbling around in the dark, and here you are, all warm and loving...
Ask, Frank. Ask.
Have you got any cookies?
#There's a long, long night awaiting #
# Until my dreams all come true #
#Till the day when I'll be going #
# Down that long, long trail with you ##
- To Blackjack Pershing. - Inventor of 21.
- To Montgomery Ward. - And his orchestra.
And his orchestra.
- To Harry Truman. - To Bess Truman. To Margaret Truman.
To err is Truman.
That's not bad.
If you boys generate a little more heat...
and wrap a little tinfoil around the top, you'll get a better yield.
- And you'll land in jail. - And his orchestra.
I had a still in Guam in World War II.
One night it blew up.
That's how I got my Purple Heart.
- Keep it under your hat. - Consider it under, Colonel.
My friends call me Stud.
- To Myrna Loy. - Hear! Hear!
Speaking of Myrna Loy, I'd like to talk to you about Corporal Klinger.
- And his all-girl orchestra? - Seriously.
#There's a long, long trail a-winding #
# Into the land of my dreams #
#Where the nightingales are singing #
#And the white moon beams #
#There's a long, long night of waiting #
# Until my dreams all come true #
#Till the day when I'll be coming #
# Down that long long trail with #
#you ##
This is Opel's Pride, a filly. Bought her in '47.
From the hubcaps she looks like a '46.
This is Sylvia Bee, Opel's Pride's sister. Look at that rump.
You can tell they're sisters.
You've got an eye for horseflesh, Hawkeye.
He's good at rumps.
Colonel, sir, Major Frank Burns.
[Clapping]
Reporting for duty, sir.
That's a nasty bruise, Major.
Pain is, uh, no stranger to me, sir.
He's had athlete's foot all his life.
The colonel can count on me as his second-in-command...
to maintain peak military efficiency and discipline, which I established.
I appreciate that, Major.
Colonel Potter, sir!
- I found your bridle. - Good.
- It was in with the trusses. - Thank you, son.
Klinger!
Nice outfit.
Thank you, sir. It's from the Shirley Temple collection.